Semua Bab Barren Luna Returns with Triplets: Bab 161 - Bab 170

Kharl POVThe forest did not feel the same.It never did when something was wrong.The air carried too much.Too many scents.Too much tension.Too much silence between the sounds.I moved through it fast, my boots crushing dry leaves beneath me as I followed the faint trail that lingered in the air. Most men would have lost it already. The smell of blood, dirt, oil, and fear had mixed together into something chaotic.But my wolf—My wolf knew.It surged forward inside me, restless, furious, clawing at my control with every step I took.Mine.The word echoed again and again in my head, not as a thought, but as a command.Mine.Celeste.Alora.Amelia.Taken.Something inside me twisted so violently that I had to stop for a second, my hand pressing against a tree as I forced myself to breathe.Control.I needed control.Because if I lost it—I would lose everything else too.I closed my eyes briefly and inhaled deeply.And there—There it was again.Faint.But clear.Her scent.Celeste.

Ryan POVBy the time the night had deepened, the war room no longer felt like part of a palace.It felt like the center of a storm.Maps were spread across the long table, some rolled open halfway, others pinned down with daggers and cups so they would not curl at the edges. Candles had burned low, their wax pooling in uneven circles, and the room smelled of parchment, sweat, and the kind of tension that kept men awake long after their bodies should have given up.I stood at the head of the table, both hands braced against the wood, staring at the map of the northern forest lines while captains waited for orders. Reports had come in one after another for hours now. Patrol routes. Scent traces. Broken tracks. Possible sightings that led nowhere. Every piece of information mattered, but none of it was enough on its own.Not yet.Kharl stood opposite me.That alone still felt strange.If someone had told me weeks ago that I would be standing in a war room with Alpha Kharl, planning side

Lydia POV The first crack did not come loudly. It came quietly. In the way Markus looked at a man begging for his life and did not blink. I had seen cruelty before. I had grown up around power, around punishment, around the way Alphas enforced control when it slipped from their hands. But there was always a line. Always a purpose. Even the harshest discipline in a pack had rules behind it, a structure that made it necessary, if not merciful. This— This was different. The man on the floor had been one of Markus’ own. I gathered that much from the way the others stood around, not intervening, not questioning. He had failed in something small, something I did not fully understand, and Markus had called him forward like one might call a servant who had broken a cup. There was no shouting. No raised voice. Just calm instructions. And then pain. The kind that lingered. The kind that made a man understand exactly where he stood without anyone needing to say it twice.

Third Person / Split POVKharl tore through Celeste’s ropes with hands that shook more from rage than effort.The moment her wrists were free, she pulled her arms forward with a sharp breath, the skin there red and bruised from where the ropes had bitten too deeply. Kharl saw it. Of course he saw it. His eyes dropped to the marks, and for one terrifying second his expression went completely blank.Not calm.Not peaceful.Blank in the way a storm becomes silent before it destroys everything.But Celeste had no time for his anger. The moment her hands were free, she turned toward the girls.“Alora,” she breathed, already moving.But Ryan was there first.He entered the room like a blade, fast and controlled, his eyes scanning every corner before settling on the two girls tied near the wall. Alora saw him and burst into tears immediately.“Uncle Ryan!”“I’m here,” Ryan said, dropping to his knees in front of her. His voice stayed steady, but his hands were gentle as he loosened the ropes

Ryder POVThe dungeon was colder than the rest of the palace.Not just in temperature.But in feeling.It was the kind of place where silence settled deeply, where even footsteps sounded heavier, where the air itself carried the weight of everything that had happened within those walls.Ryder walked down the stone steps slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression calm in a way that only came from years of control. Guards stepped aside the moment they saw him, lowering their heads slightly out of respect, but he barely acknowledged them.His mind was elsewhere.On the man waiting below.Markus.It had been a long time since he had last seen him like this.Not as a rival in whispers.Not as a shadow from the past.But as a prisoner.Bound.Defeated.And yet—Knowing Markus—Not broken.The final door opened with a low creak, and Ryder stepped inside.Markus sat against the far wall, chains binding his wrists and ankles, his head slightly lowered as if he were resting. But