All Chapters of The Bane And The Alpha Beast: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

RonanThe air shifted the second we stepped back through the portal—biting cold, metallic wind, and the ever-present hum of desperation that lived in the Wastelands. It crawled up your spine and whispered that you were already dead. I exhaled through my nose and watched the breath freeze in the air like smoke from a dragon that forgot how to burn.Behind me, the others stumbled out one by one—Brad, Crawl, Wallace, Grimm—each one quiet, brooding, processing what the old fate-keeper had told us. The wall. The warnings. The prophecy nonsense.Crawl broke the silence first—of course he did.He dropped to his knees and started swiping at the snow, brushing it away like he was cleaning a damn dinner plate.“Crawl,” Wallace said flatly, “what the hell are you doing?”“Trying to bond with the earth,” he grunted. “You heard her. ‘Forge a bond with the earth.’ Maybe if I—” He stretched out and flopped onto the frozen dirt like a starfish. “—I don’t know, merge with it.”“You look like you’re tr

EliraThe halls twisted like smoke as Maela led me back through them—no footsteps, no echo, just the silent hush of stone that somehow felt alive. My body hummed. My skin still burned faintly from Ash’s touch, from the memory of being pressed to him, moved by him, seen.I shouldn’t have liked it.But I did.The door to my room opened soundlessly. Inside, the fireplace crackled low, casting long gold shadows that reached toward me like fingers. The sheets on the bed were drawn back. The gown laid out was made of something soft and sheer that shimmered faintly in the firelight.Maela turned to me, calm and unreadable. “Let me help you.”I nodded without thinking. Without protest.Her fingers were deft, unfastening the two buttons that secured the halter top of the dress around my neck. As the fabric slipped from my shoulders, Maela pushed the fabric down over my hips until it dropped, pooling at my feet, I didn’t cover myself. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t feel the usual tug of modesty I always

RonanThe trees here were too quiet.Not silent. Just… waiting.My boots hit the packed dirt with a rhythm I hadn’t felt in years—steady, sure, leashed. Ven walked beside me, shoulders relaxed, gaze sharp.We passed the perimeter stones before I realized what my instincts had already known.This was familiar ground.The air shifted as we crossed into the heart of Shadowhearth’s territory, and something inside me—something old and primal—lurched awake.I stopped walking.Ven took two more steps before noticing. He glanced back. “Problem?”I turned slowly, eyes raking across the trees, the slope of the ridge to the north, the sharp bend of the river to the east.“This territory,” I said. My voice came out low, rough. “It used to be mine.”Ven didn’t flinch. “I know.”The words hit harder than I expected.I faced him fully. “You knew? And you didn’t say anything?”“I wasn’t sure you’d come if I did.”My jaw clenched. “So your Alpha… the one running this place now… he’s the one who took o

CaelanThe door shut with a quiet click, sealing us inside the strategy room.No ears. No whispers. No distractions.Just five men I trusted with my life—and now, maybe with something far bigger.Ven stood to my left, arms crossed, tension etched into his jaw. On my right sat Hank and Samson. Across from me, two of our senior lieutenants—Breck and Zane. Both good fighters. Loyal. But not exactly known for open-mindedness.I leaned forward, forearms braced on the table.“Ronan isn’t here to reclaim Shadowhearth,” I said, watching their faces. “He’s come seeking aid.”Breck scoffed. “Aid? From us?”“For a mission to the Underworld, to rescue his… mate.” I said flatly, having to force the last word.Zane’s brows shot up. “You’re joking.”“I don’t joke in council.”“Forgive me, Alpha,” Breck said, voice taut, “but why in the fuck would we risk our pack—for her?”The words landed like a slap. Not because they were loud. But because they were cheap.My teeth clenched. My fist curled slowly

EliraI stopped asking how long I’ve been here.It doesn’t matter. Not in this place.Not when the hours melt into each other like candle wax—slow, warm, and irreversible.I don’t even remember what my voice used to sound like when I screamed.Now, when I speak, the air obeys.Today, I turned ash into bone. Wrapped the spine of a long-dead creature in velvet shadow and watched it twitch like it wanted to remember being alive. Maela clapped. Ash smiled. I curtsied, still glowing.There’s no judgment here. No fear. No punishment for losing control.Only… hunger.The magic here doesn’t resist me. It tempts me. Coaxes. Sings in my ear when no one else is listening.Want it, it whispers. Take it. Make it yours.So I do.I’ve stopped fighting the glow. It doesn’t burn anymore—it thrums. Like a second heartbeat just beneath my skin. Ash says it’s beautiful. Maela says it’s sacred. I say nothing. Because deep down, I’ve begun to believe it too.He dresses me in silks so sheer I barely recogni