Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 111 - Chapitre 120

**Sophia’s POV**The word lingered in the park’s dim evening air, ridiculous and bone-chilling at the same time. Wolves.Thorne and I stared at Marcus, every careful wall we’d built—half-truths, careful wording, sideways glances—crumbling right in front of us. He stood there holding two takeaway coffees, his face showing not confusion, but a quiet, heavy kind of understanding.My brain scrambled for any excuse. “It’s… just an expression,” I managed, the words ringing false even as they left my mouth. “A stupid joke. You know, like ‘throw someone to the wolves’…”Marcus set the second cup gently on the bench.He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smile. “Sophia,” he said evenly. “It’s okay. I know.”Three small words that landed like stones. I know.Thorne spoke first, voice edged with distrust. “Know what, exactly?”His eyes moved from my panicked expression to the way Thorne stood—braced, ready to defend. “I know about them,” he answered. “I’ve had my suspicions about Marcus f

Sophia’s POVThe chill of the night air hit me like a wake-up call, jolting me into sharp focus. I couldn’t head back to my room in this state—ripped blouse, bloody palms, debris tangled in my hair. That would be as good as admitting everything. I slid to a halt behind a massive marble statue of some huntress figure, my breaths coming out in shaky, hushed bursts. I could make out yells from the west wing, but they sounded scattered. Emily had yelled “intruder,” not “Sophia.” In the shadows, from up on the balcony, she might not have gotten a clear view.Think. Fix yourself up. Act like nothing happened.I hurriedly picked out sticks and foliage from my clothes and locks. The tear in my silk top was up near the shoulder seam—I could angle my arm to hide it. My throbbing hands went straight into my pockets. The phone, loaded with those damning snapshots, pressed like a heavy secret against my leg.I steadied my breaths, putting on a tired, indifferent look like I’d just been out for an

Ethan’s POVThe words lingered in the space between us, like barbed darts piercing every vulnerable spot in my thoughts. Shadow Fang. Sabotage. Murder.For a moment, everything blurred to white noise—just the wild thump of my heartbeat and the cruel satisfaction etched on Emily’s face. The sorrow over my parents, a scar so buried I’d shaped my whole life around it, got torn wide and desecrated.“What did you just say?” The words scraped out rough and raw.“You heard every bit,” Emily snarled, bending farther across the desk, her gaze fierce. “The Langley name is a front. Her ‘human’ folks were Shadow Fang agents. They set the trap that plunged your parents’ vehicle over that edge. Alpha Victor has evidence. Bank trails, messages… it’s solid. She didn’t stumble into your path, Ethan. It was deliberate. Payback, or a cover-up. And now she’s getting close to my father, sniffing out more dirt. She’s not your mate; she’s your family’s nightmare.”Every gut reaction screamed to deny it, to

Sophia’s POVSleep came in restless snatches, like skimming over a frozen pond where the surface threatened to give way under every fleeting dream. I bolted upright at the noise—not a polite tap, but a heavy fist slamming against my door, fast and insistent, with no room for politeness.“Miss Langley! On Alpha Victor’s command, you need to head to the grand hall right now!”The voice belonged to a woman, edged with authority. I groped for the light, my pulse already pounding. The clock glowed 3:18 AM. Nothing decent ever unfolded at this time.I tossed a robe over my sleep clothes and cracked the door. A estate fighter, a stern woman with her dark hair pulled into a severe braid and the group emblem on her gear, waited stiffly in the corridor. “This instant, ma’am.There’s been a situation.”The trek through the hushed, dormant part of the estate felt dreamlike. The typical late-night buz

Sophia’s POVThe fragments of the mystery weren’t simply clicking into place; they were sketching an image so grotesque it risked overshadowing all else. Alpha Victor, the rejected out-of-wedlock son. A slain grandfather. A conflict with Night Fang that seemed overly neat, too flawlessly orchestrated to rally friends and paint a foe.“But what about other kin?” I asked, my tone hardly rising above a murmur amid the far-off city buzz.Marcus drew a measured pull from his brew, his stare faraway as he combed through the mental vault. “There was a sister. Not blood, though. Her name was Elara.She was the child of their folks’ nearest allies, leaders of a minor linked group who both fell in a edge clash when Elara was young. Esther and Kieran Sr. brought her home. Raised her like family. A charge of the Blackwell household, but granted the title and shield.”A charge. Like Emily was to Alpha Victor. The echoes