บททั้งหมดของ Bound in Silver Flames: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

I had never liked Summits. Not really. Too many egos packed into one room, all pretending diplomacy could cover centuries of grudges. But being Eira’s cousin meant I was dragged into the chaos whether I liked it or not. From my position near the edge of the hall, I could watch her. Not in the stalker sense—well, maybe a little—but I’d always been protective. Family, duty, instincts. And Eira had a way of drawing every eye toward her without even trying. The Alpha’s daughter, Luna in training, walking that fine line between respect and defiance, all wrapped up in that aura of quiet command. She looked tense tonight. I noticed the small things most didn’t. The way she tugged at her braid when no one was watching. How her fingers drummed lightly against the edge of the table. The faint, restless shifting in her shoulders that made her seem… ready to leap. Her wolf, I knew. Veyla. I’d seen her slip before, in fleeting moments—a subtle flicker in her eyes, a tightening of her jaw, that

By the time I stepped into the Summit chamber, the room was already thick with voices—sharp, clipped, territorial. The long oval table at the center was filled with alphas, betas, advisers, and wolves who all believed their opinions shaped the world. The air smelled of polished wood, old stone, and the distinct dominance scents of a dozen rival packs. My wolf stirred bitterly. Too many egos, Veyla muttered. Too many wolves who think they are strong. I tried to quiet her, but the restless pulse beneath my skin hadn’t faded since the forest. It buzzed under my ribs, curled around my spine, refusing to settle. Jasper gave me a small nod as I slid into my chair beside him, and I returned it, though my fingers felt stiff. I hadn’t slept much last night. I’d tossed and turned until dawn—thinking about the stifling hall, the eyes always watching me, the heat that had grown in my chest when Kalen entered the room, uninvited and unsettling. And then this morning… Seeing him at the trainin

The doors of the Summit chamber closed behind me with a heavy thud that echoed far too loudly in my chest. I didn’t breathe—not properly—until I was halfway down the corridor and well away from Kalen Draven’s eyes. Moon above. What was that? I leaned against the cool stone wall, pressing a trembling hand to my ribs as if I could hold the chaos inside still. My wolf, Veyla, paced beneath my skin, sharp and restless, brushing against my thoughts with a wild urgency I’d never felt from her before. He eased our wolf. Veyla’s voice was a whisper of heat. He looked at us and she quieted. “Stop,” I murmured under my breath. “Don’t read into this. Don’t start.” But my heart hammered traitorously, remembering the way Kalen had looked at me across that table—steady, direct, startlingly unafraid. Like he saw something in me no one else could see. Like he understood the storm in my chest before I did. I closed my eyes. The worst part was the truth Veyla was trying to shove at me: for a si

The training grounds were nearly empty by the time Rowan finished with the post-summit patrol rotations. Warriors filtered out in small clusters, murmuring about the council decisions, the alliances forming, the ones cracking. None of them mentioned what Rowan had been watching all day—what he wished he could unsee. He leaned his forearms on the railing overlooking the lower clearing, letting the winter air bite through the sweat still drying on his skin. The pines were thick, their branches arching together like ribs over the path Eira had disappeared down earlier. Kalen hadn’t followed—not physically, at least. But Rowan had felt his Alpha’s wolf stretch toward her like a tether was being pulled tight enough to hum. Rowan exhaled slowly. Moon above. He knew exactly what that meant. When Eira had walked away—chin lifted, eyes hard, steps controlled despite the chaos cracking under her skin—Kalen’s entire body had gone taut. His wolf surged so sharply that Rowan felt the flicker o

The forest still hummed in her ears long after she left the Summit hall. Eira’s boots crunched lightly against the fallen needles, but the sound felt almost loud in the quiet of her own thoughts. The meeting, the politics, the endless carefully measured words—she could still feel their weight pressing against her chest. Her father had found her shortly after she stepped away. His presence was calm but firm, and his questions were measured. “You walked off,” he said, tone neutral but sharp enough to pierce through her thoughts. “What was that about?” Eira had shrugged, not trusting herself to speak the truth. “Just needed air. The politics… it’s suffocating.” Her father studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re right. But remember, Eira, every glance, every action here matters. Kalen Draven is no ordinary Alpha. Watch yourself. Always.” She had nodded, inwardly bristling. Watch herself. As if she were a child. As if she didn’t know the difference between power and