บททั้งหมดของ CHASING MONSTERS: บทที่ 161 - บทที่ 170

(Xavier pov)The throne room doors slammed open hard enough that the guards flinched. Xavier didn’t slow as he strode inside, fury carved into every line of his posture. Samuel, Ronan, the mages, and several high-ranking noble wolves already waited, forming a half circle beneath the high pillars.They rose as he entered.“Sit,” Xavier ordered, his voice cold steel. “We have a crisis.”The nobles obeyed instantly.Ronan stepped forward. “The people are rattled. The girl’s death was a message.”“A message,” Xavier repeated, pacing across the polished floor. “More like a threat. A warning. A declaration.” His jaw tightened. “And the rebellion believes I will cower in my castle and let them grow.”No one spoke.Good. Let them feel the weight of it.Samuel cleared his throat carefully. “Your Majesty, this execution staged to frame the hunters, was meant to tear open old wounds.”“It worked,” Xavier said sharply. “The markets are already hissing that I am weak. That I allow hunters too clos

Ronan hit the ground already shifting. The alert hit the palace channel like a slap, rogues at the sanctuary, and his body responded before the words finished. Bones lengthened, muscles surged, and claws tore into stone. His elite guard squad thundered beside him. Above them, fire lit the sky. Xavier launched from the balcony in full Fire Wolf form, landing at Ronan’s side in an explosion of heat and light. Flames raced over the king’s fur without burning it, his eyes glowing like coals in a furnace. Good, Ronan thought. If there was ever a night they needed their king in the field, it was this one. They hit the street leading to the sanctuary at a dead sprint. The noise grew louder, screams, crashing, the raw sound of bodies hitting walls. Then the rogues came into view. At least fifty of them. They were being held off by civilians in their wolf form at the moment. No matter the feeling towards the hunters, there was one thing the wolf nation couldn’t stand, and that was rogue

Xavier and Ronan moved through the palace hall at a clipped pace, their boots echoing off stone as they descended toward the healer’s wing. Neither spoke; the air between them was tight, carrying too much of what this night had become. Rogues at the sanctuary. An attack on the queen’s chambers. And now Abel, alive. Xavier wasn’t sure which weighed heavier. He pushed through the swinging healer’s doors. The scent of herbs and the low hum of whispered spells filled the room. Maera stood over one of the beds, sleeves rolled to her elbows, magic shimmering faintly around her hands as she guided healing energy into a battered, barely recognizable wolf. Abel. Xavier stopped at the foot of the bed. Maera glanced up. “He’s stabilizing, Your Majesty. Slowly. He’s had wounds that should have killed him three times over. Something kept him alive… sheer stubbornness, maybe.” Ronan snorted faintly. “That sounds like him.” Abel’s eyelids fluttered. He groaned, shifting as though forcing hi

Something shifted behind them again, nothing loud or obvious.Hunters didn’t flinch or give the game away the moment they sensed danger.Sophie kept walking, pace steady. Shiloh moved half a step closer, fingers brushing the hilt at her hip in a silent signal: Ready.Sophie gave the faintest nod.A figure stepped out of the shadows.She pivoted sharply, cloak snapping behind her, body braced to strike.“Easy,” a familiar voice drawled. “I’m not here to get stabbed.”Sophie let out a breath. “Fintan?”He lifted both hands. “You two walked out like mischievous thieves. Hoods up, fast steps. Anyone would think you’d committed treason. Thought I'd better keep an eye on you two.”Shiloh glared. “You nearly got yourself killed.”Fintan shrugged. “Better men have tried.”Despite everything, Sophie laughed once under her breath. “You scared us.”“Good. Means your instincts are sharp,” he said. “Now, what are we chasing?”Sophie pointed to the half-collapsed shed. “The would-be assassin crawle

Veronica moved through the narrow ravine with the quiet ease of someone born for the shadows, her cloak drawn close, her steps soundless against the dense, hardened earth. The world around her was dusky and muted, the last light of evening brushing the edges of the rock walls as though trying to cling to her figure before she slipped entirely into darkness. Malik had left hours earlier, marching toward the mountainous northern border with half their strongest fighters at his back. He’d spoken of an alliance, of meeting a territorial Alpha who might grant the rogues legitimacy if they proved themselves useful enough. He liked to imagine he was building a future for their daughter, for their pack, for her. He liked to imagine he was creating civilization out of chaos. Veronica had kissed him when he left, her hands soft on his jaw, her smile warm enough to soothe a suspicious man into complacency. She’d even waved as he and his fighters disappeared into the trees, dust rising from the