《A Dorm With My Alpha Mate 》全部章節：第 81 章 - 第 90 章

Aria's POV The world was a broken symphony of pain. I was on my knees, one hand pressed to the slick warmth soaking through my trousers, the other still curled around the now-dull glow of the moon-blessed vial. Useless.But even through the pain-haze, I had seen her. Not when she blocked Alistair’s blade—that was just the last, stunning note. I had seen her long before.When the horns blew and Silvermane forces smashed into the fray, the battle became a whirlpool of confusion. It was then I first noticed the flash of simple steel that wasn’t Silvermane-issue, moving not with regimented force, but with a feral, efficient grace. She was a shadow at the edge of the collapsing Unbound line, a drudge-turned-demon. She didn’t roar. She flowed.I saw her cut the legs out from under a Silvermane soldier about to spear Gren from behind. I saw her use a fallen shield as a ramp to launch herself at another, her knife finding the gap between breastplate and pauldron with chilling accuracy. She w

Kai's POV The air in the Great This was supposed to be victory. This hall should be roaring with the chaos of celebration, not the chaos of dying. We should be toasting the end of Malrick’s madness, the preservation of the bonds. I stood near the barricaded doors, my shoulder leaning against the cold stone of the archway. From here, I could see the whole terrible panorama.My people—my pack, and the shattered remnants of others—were scattered like dropped toys across the floor. The wounded. My eyes skipped over them, my mind reluctantly putting names to the moans: Lorcan, arm shattered. Marta from the eastern croft, a deep gash across her scalp, pale and still from blood loss. And for what? A truth that felt like a different kind of weapon?My gaze was pulled, to the corner by the window. Sylvie. My sister. The word felt foreign and fragile in my mind… She hadn’t moved. She was a statue, the girl I remembered was all soft edges and quick laughter, a shadow who followed me with unw

Aria's POVThe pain in my leg had settled from a sharp, screaming agony into a deep, constant throb. The other pain was quieter, it was a hollow in my chest, a space that seemed to grow larger with every passing hour… the pain of watching Kai fracture before my eyes.He moved through the hall like a man haunted, his broad shoulders carrying a weight that bowed them slightly. He tended to the wounded, mediated squabbles over water rations, paced before the barricaded doors. He was doing everything an Alpha should. But his eyes… his eyes were never on the task at hand. They were always tracking to the corner, to the silent sentinel by the window.Sylvie.I understood, gods knew I understood. His sister, risen from the dead, a walking scar of their father’s betrayal. The shock, the guilt, the desperate, giddy hope—it was a storm that would break any man but it was settling over him, a permanent fog that left no room for anything else. Including me.He’d bandaged my leg with a tenderness

Aria's POVThe darkness after Joren slipped away pressed down with absolute weight, thickening the already suffocating air of the hall. I kept my eyes closed—to block the image seared behind my lids: Kai’s curt nod, the deliberate turn of his back, the unmistakable finality in every line of his posture as he walked away from me. The silence between us had hardened; its mortar mixed from his obsession and my steadily rising resentment.Time dissolved into fragments: pained breaths, an occasional sob drifting through the dark, the frantic hammering of my heart whenever I pictured Joren caught—his thin frame pinned, a cry ringing from the east wall. In my mind he remained a scrawny shadow against the moonless night, fingers clawing at dirt for the herbs I had named with quiet desperation—woundwort, feverfew, comfrey… Love itself now felt like an old, fragile thing unearthed from debris, almost absurd when weighed against the raw need to prevent a ghost from vanishing once more. My conc

Malrick POV The explosion had been illuminating.From our hiding place in the narrow servant’s conduit—a space barely wider than my shoulders, thick with ancient dust and the faint reek of rat droppings—the world reduced to vibration and muffled sound. The initial shriek pierced like a needle through the eardrum; what followed was chaos in textbook form.Derek flinched and I pressed my eye to a crack in the mortar and watched the Great Hall’s devastation unfold.Silver light flared. I saw the transformations: not the clean, voluntary shift of the wolf, but a messy, agonizing distortion.A perfect weapon—one that struck at the soul of the pack itself.And my father had no hand in it. That was the most critical detail. Through the shattered doors, I saw Silvermane guards recoiling, not advancing. They formed a defensive cordon; their faces showed shock, not triumph. This was not his plan. This was a new variable—an independent actor.Sylvie had been struck down. I watched her brother s