Semua Bab Bound To The Alpha, Claimed By The Vampire: Bab 1 - Bab 10

NyraThey say a condemned prisoner is supposed to be solemn on her way to the block. I, apparently, missed that memo.The chains on my wrists rattled as two guards dragged me across the courtyard, their boots crunching on wet stone. The dawn mist clung to everything – my hair, their armour, the gallows waiting for me in the middle of the square. A nice touch. Very dramatic. The Alpha's castle certainly knew how to stage a spectacle.My mind was too preoccupied to take it all in however. It was too busy going through my escape plan: 1. Get to the execution block 2. Anger the executioner just enough to distract him 3. Wait just until he raises his axe then...A hard tug broke into my thoughts."I'd keep that hand steady, if I were you." I muttered as the guard on my left jerked me forward. "Would be a shame if your last memory was me cutting it off.""Shut your mouth, witch," he spat."Hybrid," I corrected brightly. "Get it right. Don't worry, you'll be dead long before you get the chan

LucienLucien had learned young that silence was not safety.Even now, decades later, he still woke some nights to the phantom sound of screams. Blood. The smell of iron choking the air.He was ten, perhaps younger but the night still burned into him like a brand.The firepit in the council chamber roared higher, snapping Lucien back to the present. He realized his hand was clenched so tightly on the table that the wood had splintered beneath his grip.Across from him, Darius stood watching. Not with pity – Lucien would have gutted him for that – but with a soldier's patience, waiting for the Alpha to master himself."You should not go to her again," Darius said at last.Lucien released the table, flexing his hand. "You would forbid me?""I would advise you," Darius corrected, voice steady. "Every time you step into her cell, you drag the ghost of weakness with you. The men whisper, Lucien. They wonder why she still breathes.""She's leverage.""Leverage?" Darius echoed. "Against whom

LucienThe forest was alive with the scent of pine and blood, but all he could feel was her. Nyra thrashed in his grip, her shadows lashing out like wild things, clawing at his arms as he hauled her back through the trees. Her stolen sword lay discarded where he'd knocked it from her hand, and her curses filled the air."Let me go, you bastard!" she snapped, twisting against him and yanking back with all her strength. Her nails raked across his wrist, shallow cuts that stung like they were meant to insult, more than wound."So what's the plan, Alpha?" she continued. "Drag me back to your dungeon for another round of torture? Or are you just gonna execute me in front of your pack like you planned?"He dragged her harder, forcing her steps to match his. "What made you think you could just slip from my keep and vanish into the night?""Funny, I don't remember needing your permission." she said then jerked, nearly ripping free. He growled then shoved her against a pine so hard, the bark c

Nyra I woke up hungry again. Not the dull, gnawing ache I’d lived with most of my life, but the sharp, demanding kind that crawled up my throat and insisted on being acknowledged. My stomach growled loud enough to offend my pride, and I cracked one eye open to assess my surroundings like this was some kind of elaborate trap I might’ve missed the first time. Same room. Same bed. Same wall where the bond had decided to hum all night like it owned the place. I hadn’t slept much. Turns out sharing a wall with the man your soul had inexplicably latched onto did terrible things to rest. Every time I drifted, I felt him shift on the other side. Not physically, but something inside me reacted. A low pull. Awareness. Heat curling in places I had no business thinking about while technically imprisoned. Rude, honestly. I looked up and spotted a basket on the table that hadn’t been there when I fell asleep. Someone – Aria, probably – had come and gone while I slept. I sat up slowly, te

Lucien The council chamber smelled like old blood. Not fresh enough to alarm anyone, but present enough that Lucien noticed it the moment he crossed the threshold. The torches lining the walls burned unevenly, flames coughing and bending as drafts crept through the high ceiling. Their light stretched into shadows across the circular table, turning the single slab of ancient oak into something darker and heavier than wood. Lucien took the alpha’s seat at the head of the table. It rose only slightly above the others, but the message was clear enough. This was his ground. His pack. His responsibility. The Elders did not give him the courtesy of silence. Fenrik pushed to his feet, both hands braced on the table as if the oak itself were the only thing keeping him from lunging forward. His white beard trembled, not from age, but from fury held too tightly. “The hybrid still lives, Lucien. You halted her execution in front of the entire pack and now two of our own are dead by her han