Lahat ng Kabanata ng Between Destiny's Chains and Moonlight (Book series): Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

The garden is alive with laughter, a sound that feels like the only real thing in a world that used to be made of glass and documents.I lean back in the cushioned chair beneath the old oak, its massive branches stretching wide enough to shield me from the aggressive afternoon sun. The air here is different than it was in the city, it’s heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine and the faint, salt-licked breeze that follows Roderick wherever he goes.My twins—two golden-haired whirlwinds—are knee-deep in their sandpit, building castles that collapse as quickly as they rise. Every tumble is met with roaring giggles, their joy echoing through the pack’s grounds like a melody I never tire of hearing. They move with a coordinated grace that sometimes stops my breath, a synchronicity that feels far too uncanny for three-year-olds.I watch them, my hand instinctively resting on the high, hard curve of my belly.The weight is familiar now, comforting even. In just a few days, another son will

Waking up didn't feel like a miracle. Instead, it unfolded as a cruel parody of survival, a sick joke played at my expense.My first breath was a rough intake of damp soil and the copper stench of my own blood. I was face-down in the sludge of the ravine, my cheek pressed against a mossy root that felt like a cold, dead finger. For a long time, I just stayed there, waiting for the darkness to take me back. But the void was gone, replaced by a grey, weeping dawn filtering through the thick canopy of the North Ridge.I had crawled back from the edge of nothing, dragged into rebirth though I had never asked for such a privilege.As the fog in my brain cleared, the memory of the blade returned, sharp and vivid. I could still feel the silver sliding into my throat, turning my blood to liquid fire. But it wasn't the pain that stayed with me. It was the image of Ahri afterward.Before the guards had dragged my seizing body away, I had seen it all.Ahri didn't look away, nor did he show any r

The clearing stank of sweat and fur, the pack restless under the crimson moon as if the night itself demanded blood.Ahri sat at the head of the grand table, looking every bit the king of a rotting empire. He was restless, his fingers tapping a frantic cadence against the wood, his eyes tracking Raskha’s every move. He was ready to hunt. He was ready to claim a legacy he was not worth of.From my place in the shadows, I watched Britni move with practiced ease, weaving through the crowd with a tray of crystal glasses. She looked calm, yet through our thin mind link I could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, her anxiety vibrating faintly in the back of my skull, but she did not falter and she did not stumble.She reached the head table just as Ahri stood to signal the start of the ritual."Alpha," Britni’s voice was smooth, pitched just right to catch his attention without raising his guard. "A suggestion for the night's festivities? Something to amplify the mood for the pack's n

Time is a cruel thief when you’re waiting for the end of the world, or the beginning of a new one.The weeks had bled into a blur of grey skies and bone-deep exhaustion.Living in a cave on neutral ground while carrying an Alpha’s heir is not the romantic ‘return to nature’ some might imagine. Believe me, it is a gritty, relentless slog.Since Diamond refused to shift, my hunting options were limited to what a human woman with a growing belly and a persistent limp could manage. I had become a master of the primitive. I spent my days checking crude snares for rabbits and using a sharpened spear to poke at fish in the shallows.It was enough to stop the hunger pangs, but it wasn’t enough to nourish an unborn wolf.I could feel the lack of nutrition in my brittle teeth and in the dullness of my hair. I needed the strength only a pack‑kill could provide, the fresh vegetables, the mineral‑rich meat but there was no pack to protect me in this condition. There was only me, a pile of dried be

Alpha Oney of the White Fangs pack – Point of ViewThe borders of the White Fang are not just lines on a map, they are the bleeding veins of my territory, and I don’t tolerate anything daring enough to threaten them.For days, I’d been receiving reports of a lone wolf lurking in the neutral zone far too close to our border. My scouts insisted she was cautious, never stepping a paw across the line, but her unseen, unwelcome presence was a thorn that refused to be pulled.A rogue so close to my pack isn’t just an outsider, she’s a warning. Something darker is trailing behind her, something that clings like a bad scent you can’t scrub away. You don’t camp on an Alpha’s doorstep unless you’re hunting trouble, or running from something worse. I kept my senses razor-sharp, every nerve on high alert.“Stay sharp,” I ordered with a gravelly edge of authority, to the men flanking me as we crossed into the cold grey expanse of the neutral territory.The air carried the sharp sting of impending