บททั้งหมดของ FATED TO THE ALPHA I WAS BORN TO KILL: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Kade's POVThe healers had barely finished binding my ribs before Riven told me the council had already convened without waiting for my summons.I went anyway, wound still raw beneath the wrapping, silver fire still simmering low and restless under my skin. I left Nyra behind deliberately, telling her only that I needed to handle this alone, and watching the flicker of something unreadable cross her face before she nodded and let me go. I didn't want her sitting in that chamber listening to men twice her age debate whether she deserved to keep breathing inside these walls. Whatever fight was coming, I intended to have it without her having to witness it.The council chamber felt smaller than it had in weeks, every elder present, torches burning low, the weight of two hundred witnesses' fear from the courtyard still hanging thick in the air even here.Marros didn't wait for me to sit before he began."You know why we've convened," he said, his staff striking the stone with more force t

Nyra's POVThey called it protection. Two guards outside my door, expressions carefully neutral, weapons carefully visible. I understood the difference between protection and containment well enough not to argue the distinction aloud. Whatever word the council preferred, I was not permitted to leave this chamber until someone decided what to do with me, and there was very little dignity left in pretending otherwise.I sat by the narrow window instead, watching the courtyard below slowly empty of the wolves who'd witnessed everything, and let myself finally think, clearly, about the shape of what Mogra had actually done tonight.I'd spent the last two days believing her ultimatum was a choice. Complete the mission, or be exposed. I had turned that framing over and over, searching for the version of events where choosing Kade meant surviving the consequences of choosing him, some future where loyalty and safety weren't mutually exclusive.Sitting alone in this borrowed chamber, guards p

Riven's POVI found the second sigil before Kade did.I'd been the one to check the perimeter first, old habit, the same restless vigilance that had kept both of us alive since we were pups fighting over scraps of meat neither of us technically deserved yet. I'd smelled the frost before I'd seen it, sharp and wrong against the ordinary night air, and traced it straight to the stone outside Kade's own chambers, the sigil burned black into rock that had no business burning at all.Vaela's torn silk sat pinned beneath the dagger like an accusation nobody had bothered to voice yet.I called for Kade before I let myself think too hard about what I was looking at. Some considerations were easier to survive if you kept moving instead of standing still long enough to feel their full weight.Now, hours later, with search parties combing the eastern wing and the western treeline both, with Nyra pale and shaken but upright beside Kade in the war room, going over every scrap of information anyone

Kade's POVThe healer's words hung in the chamber like smoke that refused to clear, and for one suspended moment, nobody moved at all.Then the room fractured into noise, elders demanding explanation, pack representatives rising from their seats, someone near the back already shouting for the guard to seal the healer's wing before whatever had taken hold of my brother could spread further. I felt the old, familiar weight of command settle over my shoulders, the specific clarity that arrives when chaos demands someone decide, immediately, what happens next."Riven," I said, cutting through the noise. "Take a unit to the healer's wing. Contain it. Don't engage unless it moves to harm someone. I want to understand what we're dealing with before anyone draws a blade against my own brother's body."He was already moving, three wolves falling in behind him without needing further instruction.I turned back to the council chamber, to Nyra standing exactly where she'd stood through her entire

Mogra's POVGrief was a language I had stopped speaking fluently a long time ago. I told myself that as I stood in the ruin of my own sanctum, ash from the offering bowl still smoking faintly at my feet, and tried to name the thing sitting cold and heavy in my chest since the courtyard.It wasn't grief. It couldn't be. I had built Nyra for a purpose, the way a smith builds a blade, and a smith does not weep when the blade finally decides to cut in the wrong direction. A smith simply forges another.I told myself that three times before I believed it enough to move.The Hollow's inner chamber had gone quiet in the days since her defection, the kind of quiet that unsettles rather than soothes, my most trusted lieutenants watching me from the shadows with the particular caution of people waiting to see whether their leader still deserved the title. I understood that caution. I had built this faction on results, on patience rewarded, on eighteen years of careful cultivation finally bearin