บททั้งหมดของ Claimed by the silverfang alphas : บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

FIRST NEGOTIATIONS~TATE'S POV~The conference room smelled strange, like fear masked as air freshener. There was a long table with too many chairs. Supernaturals were on one side and humans on the other. There was a small space between each seat; close enough to feel the tension but far enough to act polite.I was sitting between Edward and Silas. Edward's heartbeat was calm. Silas had a strong, confident energy that made others pay attention to him.My heart was racing loudly.Across from me was Sarah. She had been with Heriberto for seven years, and her intense gaze felt like it could see right through you. She didn't wait for introductions."Tell me why we should trust you." No warm-up. Straight to the throat. The room went still. Even the witches stopped their restless whispers."You shouldn't," I said. Surprise rippled through the humans. Annoyance through the supernaturals.Sarah's eyes narrowed. "That's not an answer.""No. It's honesty."I leaned forward. My hands were flat o

THE MARTYR'S TRAP~MARCUS BLACKTHORN'S POV~I was in the middle of pressing a shirt when the message arrived.There is something meditative about ironing. The heat, the steam, bringing order to chaos. It was 3:00 AM, the world was quiet, and I was enjoying a glass of Merlot that cost more than most people's vehicles.Then my phone nudged against the coffee table with a quick, quiet buzz. I picked it up, annoyed not by the news, but by the interruption."Old River Meeting Grounds. Breach in progress. 200 hostile. Non-combatant status unclear."I sighed, folded the shirt strictly, and finished my wine. I adjusted my cufflinks, checked my reflection... Immortality has its perks, specifically the inability to look tired, and walked out into the rain.The Old River Grounds were kind of a neutral zone, mostly used for treaties and the occasional duel. Tonight, it looked like a refugee camp for the insane. Two hundred humans stood in the mud. They weren't armed with guns. They weren't holdin

THE BLEEDING EDGE~HOLLY'S POV~The meeting place was an old train yard on the outskirts of the city. It was dirty and rusty, and it was raining. This was a spot where people made deals or hid bodies. Maybe both.I stood by a pile of shipping containers, pulling my coat closer. The air felt electric, and that meant magic. Angry magic."You are standing too close to the edge," a voice murmured. I turned around. Marcus Blackthorn was fixing his cufflinks nearby. He seemed out of place in the mud, looking sharp in his suit, but he was still very dangerous."I am just watching," I said."Watch closely," Marcus replied, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Peace treaties are rarely signed in ink, Holly. They are usually signed in blood. We are just waiting to see whose vein opens first."He moved away, disappearing into the mist to talk with Silas. I turned back to the line of human envoys. They did not look like the scared refugees Tate had described. They stood in formation. Tough. Eyes forwa

THE CASTING OF STONES~DAXON'S POV~The Seven Day Grace had ended.We hadn't caught the entity yet...it was unreachable, a shadow that moved through walls and drained magic like a leech...but we had stabilized the perimeter. We had kept the Pack alive for one more week.But tonight, survival wasn't enough. Tonight, judgment was coming.The Great Hall was stripped bare. The tables were gone. The banners were still. In the center of the room stood the Urn of Judgment...a massive iron vessel that had sat gathering dust for fifty years.Beside it were two piles of river stones. One pile was white quartz. The other was obsidian black."This feels like a funeral," I muttered, standing in the shadows of the archway."It might be," Marcus Blackthorn replied. He was leaning against a pillar, dressed in black, looking like the Grim Reaper's sophisticated cousin. "If you lose this vote, the Silverfang legacy ends tonight."Mathias stood at the front of the room. He looked regal, but pale. The dr

THE BLEEDING CLASSROOM~TATE'S POV~The training hall smelled of sage, chalk, and nervous sweat.We turned the old armory into a classroom. Fifteen desks were set up in a circle. On one side were fifteen excited humans, and on the other side were fifteen supernatural teachers, looking doubtful."Welcome," I said, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "You are here because you want to understand magic. Not steal it. Not weaponize it. Understand it."A young woman named Sara nodded eagerly. Beside her stood Shane, the skeptic from the safehouse. He didn't nod. He watched the mentors like they were predators deciding which part of him to eat first."This program has two rules," I continued. "One: You learn ethics before you learn power. Two: If you use what you learn here to harm anyone, the lesson ends permanently."The mentors shifted. Among them was Lyssa, a witch from the High Coven. She had silver streaks in her black hair and eyes that looked like amber glass. She had fought tooth