Todos los capítulos de Wanted By The Alpha And His Brothers: Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

Jessica's POV(Special Chapter)Comfortable was a relative term. The room wasn't a dungeon. It was clean, if spartan, with a narrow bed, a simple wooden chair, and a small window high up on the stone wall that showed a sliver of iron-grey sky. It was cold, the air smelling of damp earth, pine, and a faint, underlying musk of wolf that wasn't Blackthorn or Lancaster. It was wilder, sharper. Night Fang.But I wasn't bound. I wasn't starved. A guard brought me simple, hearty food twice a day. They’d even provided a change of clothes. This wasn't the treatment of a typical prisoner of war. It was the containment of an asset. An inconvenient, unexpected asset.I sat on the edge of the bed, running through the scenarios for the hundredth time. The attack had been terrifying in its violence, but the moment Peter Holloway had looked at me in Ronan's hallway, there had been a flicker in his cold eyes not just hatred, but annoyance. As if I were a piece of furniture that had been moved without h

Lana's POV A latent ability. Dormant power. The words echoed in the sterile, soundproofed space of Maison’s office, far more terrifying than any overt threat. They suggested I wasn't just caught between two worlds; I might be something neither world had prepared for. "I... I'm asking for a friend," I lied, the words brittle. "Someone in the pack. They've been having... strange episodes. I'm just trying to understand." It was a flimsy cover, but it was all I had. Maison didn't look convinced, but he didn't press. He was a man who understood the value of secrets and the danger of forcing them. He nodded slowly. "I know of one reference. A case file from my grandfather's time. A werewolf, not from any major pack, who could generate and control electrostatic energy. They called him a 'Fox' for how erratically and cleverly he used it. But it was a personal mutation, as far as we know. Not something tied to bonds or bloodlines. And it was destructive. Uncontrollable. He didn't live long.

Ronan's POV It hit like a sledgehammer to the chest, then a live wire shoved down my throat. One moment I was in Gideon’s study, staring at a map of the northern territories, the taste of his expensive whiskey ash in my mouth. The next, my world was white-hot, silent agony. The mate bond was a constant, aching presence since the day I met her. It wasn't a pull or a plea. It was a detonation. A psychic scream of such raw, shattering force that my knees buckled. My vision bleached to nothing. A roar tore from me, not of anger, but of pure, uncomprehending pain, as if my soul was being flayed. My bones ached, my skin prickled with the urgent, violent need to shift, to rend, to answer this catastrophic distress call in the only way my wolf knew how—with teeth and fury. The air crackled around me. A vase on Gideon’s desk shattered, victim to the uncontrolled wave of energy that pulsed from me. “Ronan!” Finn’s voice, sharp with alarm, cut through the static. Strong hands grabbed me fr

Finn's POV (Special Chapter) I am the shadow to his sun. The echo to his roar. I am Finn Lancaster, the spare, the afterthought, the one who learned to move silently so as not to disturb the precious heir’s training. Ronan never had to learn silence. The world bent to make room for his voice. They think my resentment is petty. A younger brother’s jealousy. They don’t understand it’s a geometric truth. Every ounce of power, every scrap of admiration, every legacy that flows to him is a deficit I inherit. I am the living monument to what he is not: not the Alpha, not the savior, not the first choice. I am the contingency plan written in invisible ink. This? This conspiracy? It’s my first real piece of geometry. My equation. And Jessica… Jessica is my wild, beautiful, furious variable. I watch her now, asleep in the bed in the Blackthorn guest suite. In the pale moonlight, she looks like the girl I climbed trees with, not the strategist who schemed to marry my brother. Her hand rests

Ronan's POVThe air in the infirmary was thick with the scent of betrayal and dried herbs. She stood before me, her face pale but defiant, her eyes wide with what looked like genuine shock. But I’d been a fool for that look before. The bond between us, once a source of strength, was now a raw, screaming nerve, transmitting only confusion and a deep, gut-churning ache. It lied. She lied.“How long have you been conspiring with your parents to destroy my family?”The question hung between us, the culmination of weeks of poison, of evidence piling like stones on a grave. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t raise my voice again. The violence in me was a frozen lake, dangerously still. This was an interrogation of the soul, and I needed to see hers crack.Lana’s denial was immediate, fervent. “My parents are dead, Ronan! I never knew them! This is insanity! You have to believe me, look at the note! It’s about the baby, it’s about Finn and Jessica,”“Stop.” The word was a blade. “Stop using their