Lahat ng Kabanata ng Reborn as the Alpha’s regret : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

- CallaI stood motionless, staring at the painted symbol on the cold stone wall. The broken crescent moon. It was crude, faded by time and dampness, but unmistakable.The mark of the Shadow Pack.The air in the large tunnel felt different now. It was dry, still, and heavy with a sense of watchful silence. This wasn't a dead passage. It was maintained. It was active.My fear of drowning was instantly replaced by a sharp, cold calculation. I had run from Lucien’s power and plunged right into the heart of his enemy.The Shadow Pack was a legend, a cautionary tale. Stories said they were ruthless, skilled in stealth, and held deep hatred for the Nightmoor Alpha, Lucien’s father, who had supposedly wiped them out years ago. If they were still alive, they hadn't been defeated; they had simply vanished.And now, I was standing in their hidden territory.I reached up and touched the cool stone wall, my fingers brushing over the rough paint of the crescent moon. The thought of finding Willow'

- CallaAlpha Rian’s grip was immense, heavy, and too confident. When he finally let go of my hand, a cold sting lingered on my palm. It felt like a brand, a reminder that I was trading one Alpha’s prison for another's rough shelter."Take her," Rian commanded, his voice a deep rumble that filled the large, quiet cavern. He spoke to a stern-looking woman nearby. "Dry clothes, food. Then bring her back. I want the details of this 'vengeance' she promises."The Shadow Wolves obeyed instantly. They were silent, efficient, and their eyes, following me as I was led away, were sharper than any I had seen in Nightmoor.I was taken to a small, warm chamber carved into the rock. The healer, a quiet woman with hands that moved quickly and surely, tended to the scrapes on my knees and hip. The warm stew she gave me was simple but nourishing. The heat drove out the deep chill of the tunnels.An hour later, I was back in the main cavern. I wore a heavy, dark tunic and trousers, rough but dry. I sa

- LucienI was standing in the dark, stale air of my study, staring at the phone, waiting for Fenric to report on Vexley, when the pain hit.It wasn't physical. It was a cold, psychic fire that erupted deep in my chest, right where the mate bond knotted in my core. It was a vicious, calculated thrust of pure, raw contempt.I gasped, staggering backward, my hands flying up to clutch my ribs as if I could stop the internal tearing. The world dissolved into a blinding white flash, replaced only by the terrible, cutting feeling of rejection and absolute, burning hatred.It was Calla.I dropped to my knees, the floorboards cold beneath my palms. The pain was immense, sharper than any wound I had ever taken in battle. It was the deepest, most personal wound possible. It was the soul of my mate screaming that I was filth.My own wolf erupted in a torrent of agony and rage, fighting back against the psychic venom. No! Mine! The need to dominate, to claim, to physically possess her and silence

- CallaI lay curled on the cold stone floor near the fire, trembling violently. The agony had passed, but the psychic shock left me weak, nauseated, and utterly exhausted.My wolf, which had been so fierce in driving the hatred down the bond, was now whimpering inside me, raw and terrified. The backlash from Lucien was not a rejection; it was a brutal demand. His power, though unfocused, was overwhelming.I forced myself to sit up, leaning my back against the rough wall. I had wanted to hurt him, to make him feel the pain of my contempt. I had succeeded. But the bond was a two-way street, and the reciprocal agony had been crippling.He knows now, I thought, a desperate clarity washing over me. He knows I am an enemy. He will not stop looking.Lyra found me minutes later, just as I was pushing myself shakily to my feet. She carried a leather satchel and wore a dark, heavy pack, ready for the surface mission."You sent the message," Lyra observed, her silver eyes assessing my pale, swe

- LucienThe city air smelled like exhaust and rain, a pathetic excuse for atmosphere compared to the crisp pine of the Nightmoor forests.I leaned against the cold brick of the alleyway, the wound on my side throbbing a steady, annoying rhythm."Vexley really knows how to pick them," I muttered, looking up at the crumbling facade of the apartment building. "Nothing says 'trustworthy solicitor' like a place that looks like it’s held together by spite and bird droppings."Fenric stood beside me, checking his sidearm. "It’s a low-profile location, Alpha. Hard to watch, easy to disappear from.""It’s a dump, Fenric. Let’s call a spade a spade." I adjusted my jacket, the black ledger tucked securely against my ribs. The book felt heavy, a physical weight of proof that I was right and Calla was... well, Calla was currently a very thorn-sized problem in my side.Speaking of Calla, the bond was humming. Since I’d sent that spike of triumph through the link, she had been silent. But it was a