Semua Bab Alora's Windsong: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Days had gone by, and graduation was quickly approaching. I reminded myself to stop by the gym and pick up my cap and gown. Sam said he’d take me since it was raining, and I had left my bike at home.I was heading out from training when Sarah blocked the door. Her arms folded tight across her chest, that smug smile plastered on her face like she’d been waiting all day to cut me down.“Alpha’s favorite little albino freak,” she sneered. “So you think you’re special? You’re not even one of us.”Jag stirred inside me, her growl vibrating in my bones. *Ignore her, Alora. Walk away.*I gripped my bag tighter, forcing myself to breathe. “Move, Sarah.”She tilted her head, her grin widening. “Why should I? You want the truth? Here it is—you’re nothing. You think Lyra was your perfect mom? She wasn’t mine. She never was. We don’t share a damn drop of blood. Not one.”Her words hit like a strike to the chest. “What are you talking about?”Sarah stepped closer, eyes burning with something twiste

By the time I reached the ridge, panic had moved into a living thing inside my head. The road up the mountain had been a ribbon of dark asphalt beneath my tires; I’d killed the engine and listened until the thud of my own pulse filled my ears.Someone could have followed me. Someone could have been waiting. I swung off the bike, every muscle humming, and crept the last few yards to the spot Jag had shown me. My hands shook as I checked the rocks, the underbrush, the edges of the tree line for cameras or drones. I hadn’t eaten all day—the hunger and the stress were hitting me hard—and my vision began to blur at the edges.“Alora?” His voice slid through like a ghost, close and urgent.I answered in my head, breath ragged. *Here.*I turned toward the sound, scanning the dark. He should be visible—Blaise always was—but he was a smear at first: dark hair plastered to his forehead, His black leather jacket clung to him, eyes molten gold even without light. Relief and shame landed together;

Tomorrow was supposed to be graduation day—caps and gowns, proud families in the gym, teachers shepherding lines of seniors to their seats. Instead, Ryker’s command rolled like thunder across the Pack link at dawn:Graduation is postponed until my daughter can stand beside her class and receive her diploma.The ripple was immediate. Hallways hushed. Students whispered at lockers, phones lighting up with texts and half-formed rumors. Teachers reshuffled schedules with tight, unreadable mouths. Parents on the group threads grumbled about travel plans and hotels—and then went quiet. No one challenged the Alpha. Not now. Not with the story already out: Alora was ill. And Alora wasn’t just another senior anymore. She was the heir.But Alora wasn’t in Ryker’s territory.She lay in a guest room of Jenna’s house, home and heart of the Rogue Pack that nested just beyond the southern ridge. The air was soft with steam and the bite of crushed herbs; a clay bowl smoldered in the corner, blue-gray

Blaise was busy fixing breakfast while keeping an ear out for any sounds coming from his room, where I had been recovering for over a week now. That's when he heard soft giggles and a meow. Jenna prepared the tray and handed it to him, with a soft kiss on his cheek, as he made his way to his mate. He was her only son and would soon be Alpha of her Pack when she retired.****I woke to a soft tickle against my cheek. For a dazed second, I thought I was back home in my condo until a rough little tongue dragged across my chin and a sharp meow pulled me all the way into the morning. My eyes adjusted slowly. His precious face came into view.“Rudy,” I whispered, my lips curving even before my eyes fully opened. He pounced from my stomach onto my chest, demanding attention like only he could, batting at the blanket until I scratched him behind his ears.When I finally blinked awake, the room wasn’t my condo at all. Rough beams. The faint herbal smoke still curling from last night. And there

The morning sun spilled across Jenna’s porch, casting long beams over the packed bags by the door. Today was the day I would move back into my condo, back into the life I had left hanging in pieces. Blaise lifted one of the heavier bags easily, muscles shifting under his shirt, while Rudy meowed in protest from his crate, demanding freedom.Ryker stood near the truck, his arms crossed, his golden eyes sweeping the yard. “Michael will be here shortly,” he said. Then he glanced at Blaise. “Would you ride Alora’s bike back to her condo?”Blaise’s mouth curved faintly. “Gladly.” He’d even slipped a few of his own things into the bags—shirts, a jacket, personal items—quietly claiming a corner of my world for himselfMoments later, the crunch of tires on gravel announced another Hummer pulling into Jenna’s driveway. She glanced at Ryker, who gave a single nod with a smile. He knew what was about to happen.Michael climbed out, brushing the dust from his jacket as if it were any other day. Je