Semua Bab Alora's Windsong: Bab 131 - Bab 140

The counsil's five black sedans cut through the back forest roads in a hard, silent convoy — brake lights glowing red through pine shadow. No music. No idle talk. Windows up. Engines deep.No one wanted to be the first to speak.They had all seen the same thing.They had all felt it.The Moon Goddess herself — in a child’s body — is the force behind this pack. She is not to be messed with; to do so is a death sentence, and they all knew it.The first car carried the Head Councilor; it was his voice that finally broke the silence.“We are fools if we pretend that wasn’t divine authority,” he said, his jaw set tight. “That child wasn’t posturing. He was her chosen vessel.” He let that sink in.One woman from the back seat swallowed hard. “The Dark Fae were there. Calm. Confident. Not threatened. Some of them are mated with the Lycans. That means they are already family. You don’t separate family. They will fight us; the Dark Fae King himself is mated to their Socerror. That's suicidal

Months had gone by without incident.He walked the wardline with the patience of those who are old as dirt— silent as frost on glass — testing each thread that Thorn, Kira, and Oliver had woven. Ninety-three wards along this ridge. Ninety-three locks. Ninety-three keys of light and blood and promise.He checked eighty-seven.All stood firm.But ward eighty-six… That one pulsed wrong.It didn’t push back as strongly.As if something had curled inside it like a parasite.He smiled — wicked, pleased — and pressed his own power into the break. Not to heal it. Not to fix it.But to patch it just enough that no one on this mountain would notice the rot already chewing the inside.Now it was concealed.A trap neatly shut.This was always the plan; no one is perfect, he knew they’d slip sooner or later.Not to destroy the child outright……but to kill him through his own kind, those who claimed to protect him.He moved like a stain across moonlight, fading into the tree line when he heard the

Doreana did not waste time.The moment she ended the call with Bram, she lifted her hand and traced three quick symbols in the air. The cabin dissolved into illusion — wood and stone dissolving into nothing but a clearing of trees. Anyone passing now would see only pine, shadow, and wind. No home. No sorcerer. No danger.She walked to the center rug and flicked her fingers.The woven threads rolled back, revealing the hidden door. She reached down, grabbed the circle pull, and the door groaned open.Wood creaked. The smell below was spice and iron, with decades of perfecting her skills.Doreena descended the stone steps into the cellar beneath her cabin — shelves of vanquishing potions lining the walls in sealed black and red bottles, Demon-killers, Shadow-burners, and other things not spoken aloud. She had potions for everything imaginable. Below on a cured Cypress tree truck stand, was her book of Shadows, leather-bound, thousands of years old, it was handed down to her from her anc

Ella worked at the hospital, inside Ryker's pack. She was just a guard, but she could get what he needed. He made the call, and she reluctantly agreed. Now he had to figure out how to get Storm to the hospital.****Finals week burned the brain more than any battle ever did.Beth and I sat at the long table in the campus study hall — notebooks open, highlighters in one hand and flash cards in the other, my last exam, cramming to keep my mind from spinning out of control.We were both on our last day of finals, but my mind was elsewhere. After this semester, I’d ask to withdraw from my classes, I needed to make sure my son was safe.“Two more essays,” Beth muttered, tapping her pencil against her temple. “And then I swear I’m burning every sociology note I’ve ever written.”“We’ll have a bonfire!” I laughedI smirked. “Video it. Show your grandkids how education tried to kill you.”She snorted — loud — and three students two tables down looked up at us like we had broken the sacred qui

Later, the den turned into a sprawl of blankets and soft talk. Beth curled at one end of the couch, feet under Sam’s knit throw she’d stolen months ago and claimed as hers. Jenna and Oliver tucked into the love seat, fingers linked, not making a show of it and not hiding it either. Lyra lay with her head in Ryker’s lap, his hand in her hair, both watching the fireplace flames like they were listening for old stories.Storm dozed against my chest, heavy and warm, the way toddlers get right before they surrender to sleep. He traced a lazy circle on my arm with one finger and whispered, “Pretty tree, Mama.”“Pretty tree,” I agreed.He blinked slowly. “Family.”I kissed his crown. “Family.”Blaise stretched out behind us, arm around both of us, chin on my shoulder. He breathed out, and I felt the day settle where it belonged.For a little while, peace stayed.We carried Storm to bed and came back to finish the last few ornaments that needed the quiet of after. Lyra set a small carved moon