Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE PREGNANT SHE WOLF: Kabanata 181 - Kabanata 190

SANDRA’S POV I crouched behind a fallen cedar at the edge of the hunter’s blind, rain dripping off the brim of my hood and pooling in the hollow of my collarbone. The blind itself was nothing more than warped planks nailed between two pines, half-rotted and smelling of wet moss and old blood. I had chosen it because the wind always blew toward me here, carrying scents instead of giving them away. Darius arrived exactly when he said he would, midnight, boots crunching deliberately on wet needles so I would hear him coming.He stepped inside the blind without hesitation, shook rain from his coat, and dropped to one knee in front of me like a soldier reporting to command. His face looked thinner under the weak moonlight that slipped through the cracks. His eyes were hollow and his lips pressed tight.I stayed crouched, knife resting loose across my thigh.“Speak,” I said.He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sharon refused them flat out. She told the elders to leave her house

SHARON’S POV I stood at the kitchen sink rinsing breakfast plates when the second knock came, heavier this time, more insistent. The sound rattled the windowpane above the faucet. I dried my hands on the towel slung over my shoulder, glanced at Morris through the doorway. He was already moving toward the front hall, shoulders squared, jaw set in that quiet way that meant trouble. I followed. He opened the door. Harlan stood on the threshold again, flanked by Tomas and the two others whose names I never bothered to learn. This time they carried no hats in their hands. This time their faces looked carved from stone. Harlan spoke first. “We need five minutes, Sharon. That’s all we ask.” Morris blocked the doorway with his body. “You had your five minutes yesterday. She gave you her answer.” Tomas stepped forward half a pace. “The pack is fracturing. Alliances are wavering. Rogue groups are already testing the borders. We cannot hold without a clear leader.” I moved up beside Morri

SANDRA’S POV I sat on the cold concrete floor of the holding cell with my back against the wall, knees drawn up, wrists raw from the zip ties they hadn’t bothered to replace with proper cuffs. The single bulb overhead buzzed like a dying insect. Rain tapped steadily on the metal roof above, a rhythm that had started an hour ago and refused to stop. My coat lay in a sodden heap in the corner where they had thrown it after stripping me of every blade, every hidden wire, every scrap of dignity I had left.Footsteps echoed down the corridor, three sets, heavy, deliberate. I lifted my head as the door scraped open.Darius stepped in first.Just then my stomach dropped so fast I tasted bile.He wore the same rain-soaked jacket he’d had on at the quarry rim, but now his hands were free and his shoulders sat straight. There was no tremor, no guilt in his eyes. Just calm, cold and a final look.Behind him came Kelly walked in with a rifle slung across his chest, his face was blank. Morris fil

MORRIS’S POV I woke up earlier than usual, the house still wrapped in that heavy pre-dawn quiet. Sunlight had barely started to leak around the edges of the curtains. Sharon lay on her side facing me, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting across her belly. Her breathing came slow and even, there was tension in her shoulders, no lines carved between her brows. For the first time in months she looked peaceful, like the weight she carried every single day had finally lifted off her chest.I stayed still a minute longer, just watching her. Sandra was gone. She was executed at sunrise yesterday. Her body was left in the wilds outside Jordan Pack borders, there was no grave marker, no ceremony. Just empty space where she used to be. The thought should have brought relief, but all I felt was this strange, hollow calm. The constant low hum of danger that lived in my bones for so long had finally gone silent. I could hear birds outside. I could hear the soft creak of the house se

SHARON’S POV The truck rolled to a stop in front of the house just as the last sliver of daylight slipped behind the ridge. Gravel crunched under the tires, then silence. Kelly killed the engine. In the back seat Daenerys yawned so wide her jaw cracked and Daemon’s head lolled against the window, eyes already closed. The long day had finally caught up with them. I unbuckled my seatbelt, turned to look at them. Their small faces looked softer in the fading light, cheeks flushed from sun and wind.Morris opened the back door first. He lifted Daemon out in one smooth motion, cradling the boy against his shoulder. Daemon mumbled something sleepy but didn’t wake. I reached for Daenerys. She wrapped her arms around my neck without protest, legs dangling as I carried her inside. Her breath felt warm against my collarbone.We moved through the quiet house like a small procession. Up the stairs. Down the hallway. Into their rooms. Morris laid Daemon down first, pulled the quilt over him, brus