All Chapters of Claiming her Reign: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Xian'na pov I was still tucked securely against Davon’s chest, the frantic, protective thrum of his Alpha heart a deafening sound against my ear. His scent—rain and pine—was thick with residual fury, a dangerous cloak around us. Kylah had stepped back, her hands hovering, ready to soothe or attack, depending on Davon’s next move. The silence that followed Chloe's banishment was heavy, broken only by my own shaky breathing and the echoing crash of the outer doors. But then, the world exploded. It wasn't a sound of entry, but a wave of sheer, unbridled power. The air didn't just vibrate; it was ripped apart. Three distinct Alpha auras—dark, potent, and utterly enraged—slammed into the castle like a trio of collapsing stars. The temperature dropped, and the very magic layered into the Red Moon Pack's stones protested with a low, agonizing whine. My lip throbbed, but I inhaled sharply. I knew that power. I knew those scents. My brothers. They arrived not in a line, but in a ch

Xian'na's POV The moment I consciously fed the Holy Power into the sealed wall, the stone did not crack or shift; it simply dissolved, melting into a vibrant, swirling mist of blue and gold. I stepped through, followed closely by Davon and the three advisors, whose faces were a mixture of awe and terror. The air on the other side was sweet and startlingly fresh, carrying the scent of pure ozone and blooming night jasmine. It was a place outside of time, intensely nostalgic yet completely foreign. It felt like coming home to a place I’d only known in dreams. The path was lined with luminous, golden plants that pulsed with a gentle light, and above, the sky was an impossibly clean, unending cerulean blue. The serene calm of the place was intoxicating, a direct balm to the terror that had been gripping me for a week. I walked a short distance until I reached an immense, arched gateway that shimmered with blinding light. The gate itself was fashioned from a single, carved element

xian'na pov The moment we crossed the invisible border into the Green Moon territory, the entire atmosphere changed. The transition was less like crossing a border and more like entering the secured perimeter of a massive, living weapon. The Red Moon Pack, Davon’s territory, had felt warm, ancient, and deeply rooted in comfort and tradition. This place—the Green Moon Pack—was utterly different. It felt like a strategic camouflage: the dark, ancient pines and rolling hills were merely a disguise for the razor-sharp mind that governed it. The architecture was a jarring yet brilliant blend of worlds. High-tech, faceted obsidian towers rose from the depths of the forest, their surfaces mirroring the canopy. The buildings weren’t just gray; they were deep, matte black, accented with the muted, military-grade green of the forest. It was efficiency made visible. Every shadow felt intentional, every corner guarded by systems far more complex than simple sentries. This is a fortress bui

James’s presence in the Black Box was instantly overwhelming. He filled the space, eclipsing the technological hum of the room with the sheer, raw intensity of his Alpha power. He didn't look like a strategist or a king; he looked like a force of nature—a storm contained in muscle and bone. I tried to push myself up, still weak from the battle with Kelvin’s drone. James didn't offer a hand. He simply waited, his silver eyes blazing with an impatient ferocity that bypassed my mind and spoke directly to my trembling spine. “Get up, little sister,” James growled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that promised agony. “Kelvin taught you how to use a shield. He taught you how to command the power with your thoughts. I don’t care about your thoughts.” I struggled to my feet, bracing myself. “What is Phase Two?” James gave Kelvin a dismissive glance. “Kelvin deals in data. I deal in blood. You spent twenty years being the maid—flinching, hiding, apologizing for your presence. That

Davon pov The journey back toward the desolate Ironwood Territory felt less like travel and more like falling. James’s report—spies moving specialized equipment toward Seraphina’s origin point—had injected a corrosive acid of urgency into my blood. All I could think about was the clock, racing against a deadline I couldn't yet see. Samuel kept pace beside me, silent, his attention inward. I focused on the practical element, relying on the breadcrumbs dropped by contacts who owed me favors, tracing routes only the most desperate or the most arrogant would utilize. "They’re using old, forgotten trails," I stated, the tightness in my voice reflecting the concern in my chest. "The equipment is heavy, bulky. This isn't just a supply run; it's a construction project." Crossing the territorial line into Ironwood was an immediate, sickening change. It was like walking into a lungful of stagnant air. The moon, usually a brilliant anchor, seemed dim and sickly here. The trees were the w