All Chapters of The Bane And The Alpha Beast: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

EliraBrad’s cabin was tucked just deep enough into the forest that it felt like the trees had claimed it. A wraparound porch sagged under the weight of winter, smoke curling lazily from the chimney. I could hear voices before we reached the steps—laughter, something clanking, the thud of boots.Ronan knocked once before pushing the door open.“Don’t bother knocking,” came a voice from inside. “You don’t knock on family.”Brad.We stepped inside, and I was instantly hit with the warmth of woodsmoke and something that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon and sausage.Three men looked up from around a long kitchen table. One of them—shorter than the others, with a beard that tried to make up for it—grinned when he saw us.The tallest, with a scar across one brow and a smirk that looked permanent, gave a sharp nod. “Crawl,” he said. “And that grump beside me is Dex.”Dex was broader, with deep-set eyes and arms that looked like they could snap logs in half. He offered a chin lift and a qui

Elira“I was gonna cook these deer steaks the old-fashioned way,” Brad said, slapping a bowl of meat onto the counter with a thud. “But now that we’ve got a goddess in the kitchen, maybe she can just look at ’em real hard and poof—dinner’s served.”Crawl snorted. “You’re just mad she didn’t make you a glowing snowball.”“I’m just saying,” Brad grinned, ignoring his cousin. “Seems like a waste of divine power to let it sit idle when there’s hungry mouths to feed.”Everyone turned to me.I blinked. “You want me to… magic the meat?”Brad leaned against the counter, arms crossed like he was dead serious. “Unless you’d rather gut potatoes.”I squinted at the steaks. “I’m not sure cooking by emotional manifestation is in the Moon Goddess’s guidebook.”Janet chimed in from the sink, drying dishes. “Couldn’t hurt to try?”I sighed, stepped forward, and stared at the meat.Okay. Cook, dammit.I reached out a hand, hovering my palm above the thickest cut, willing it to sizzle. Nothing. I scrunc

RonanShe stood wrapped in that wool blanket, skin warm and flushed from the fire, but it wasn’t the flames painting her golden.It was her.That glow—the soft, pulsing shimmer just beneath the surface—lit her like something sacred and sinful all at once. And it wasn’t fading.“Still glowing,” I said, stepping closer.She bit her lip and dropped her gaze. “Can’t help it.”“You need to.” My voice came low. Measured. Intentional. “You have to learn how.”Her eyes flicked up to mine.“So this is a lesson?” she asked, coy but already breathless.My hand curled around her waist, dragging her against me. I could feel the hum beneath her skin. Like she was barely holding herself together.“No,” I said, brushing my mouth over the corner of hers. “This is training.”I kissed her slow—deep enough to make her toes curl, soft enough not to break her. And when her hips tilted toward mine, that glow brightened like it had a heartbeat of its own.I pulled back.Her whimper was instant.“Control, Eli

RonanThe basket was pathetic.Lopsided, brittle in places, half the weave too loose, the other half too tight. It looked like it had survived a war. Or been made during one.But Elira had made it. First thing she ever wove with her own hands. I’d watched her curse every strand of straw, had to pry the thing out of her fists when she almost lit it on fire in frustration. And she’d kept it. Proof that she didn’t quit.I held it up now, inspecting it like it was some ancient artifact.“We’re going to start with this,” I said.She blinked at me from where she was crouched by the fire, drying her hands. “You want me to… repair that mess?”“No. I want you to make a new one.”She frowned. “That’ll take me all day.”“Not if you use your magic.”Her shoulders stiffened.“I don’t know how,” she said.I walked over slowly, crouched beside her, basket still in hand. “You do. You’ve done it before. The orb for Cole. The snow. Me when you brought me back to life. You know how. But the more you kee

EliraThe world came back in pieces.Not all at once, but like fog rolling off a battlefield—bit by bit, breath by breath, revealing ruin underneath.The first thing I felt was cold stone beneath my back. Smooth. Too smooth.The second was the air—dry and still, heavy with something metallic. Not blood. Not magic.Power.Old, crawling power.I sat up too fast. My head spun. The world twisted.I wasn’t in the cabin.I wasn’t anywhere real.Dark stone walls surrounded me. A flickering brazier cast orange light across runes carved into the floor. Not werewolf runes. Not moon magic.These were older. Deeper. Etched in something black and veined, like obsidian laced with bone.I scrambled to my feet. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.“Ronan?” I called out, voice echoing off the stone.Nothing.I reached for the bond.And nearly collapsed when I couldn’t feel it.Gone. No warmth. No tether. No hum in my chest.Like he’d been cut out of me.“Hello, little moon.”The voice didn’t echo.It di