Lahat ng Kabanata ng Between Destiny's Chains and Moonlight (Book series): Kabanata 111 - Kabanata 120

I knew it wasn't a coincidence the moment the heavy brass handle of The Silver Kettle gave way under my grip, throwing a wall of warm air, spilled beer, and loud laughter directly into my face.Steel had directed me here, tracking Inzinga's scent through the stone corridors of the packhouse and straight down the gravel path to the lower edge of the residential area. The beast inside me had paced a agonizing circle in my mind until I finally yielded, following the phantom trail of pine and fresh milk like a hound on a leash.I hated myself for it, but the pull was a physical ache I couldn't ignore.The pub was packed to the gills, the low timber ceilings trapping the thick noise of off-duty warriors and couples winding down after a long week. The air was a comforting fog of burning woodsmoke, roasted nuts, and stale ale, vibrating with the collective buzz of a pack at ease.I didn't want a scene, and I certainly didn't want Jace’s brother realizing his Alpha was actively tailing his da

The game went through a few predictable rounds. Toby was dared to down a pint of raw eggs, which he did with a lot of dramatic gagging that made the guys roar with laughter. Then it was Maya’s turn."Truth," Maya stated firmly, leaning back and bracing herself."Alright," Marcus chuckled, leaning forward on his elbows. "Is it true that you deliberately took the long route on the southern patrol just to bump into Senior Warrior Briggs?"Maya's face turned a brilliant shade of crimson, her scent spiking with embarrassment."Shut up, Marcus! That was a tactical route adjustment!"The laughter was loud, but it felt forced, the undercurrent of hostility growing heavier by the minute. Nahash controlled the room like a puppet master, her knuckles flicking the neck of the glass container aggressively. She wasn't listening to their jokes, her eyes never wandered from my face.And then, inevitably, the bottle showed her way.The dark glass spun across the timber tabletop, slowing down until the

Heat clung to the training grounds from first light, rising off the red earth and mixing with sweat the nervous energy of the crowd.Half the White Fangs pack had turned out.They lined the perimeter of the primary combat ring, a deeply recessed bowl carved out of black basalt rock, worn smooth by centuries of territorial challenges and warrior evaluations.The Obsidian Pit.I stood at the northern edge of the stone ring, stretching my arms across my chest, feeling the deep, familiar ache in my core. My body wasn’t fully healed from the ordeal that had brought me to this territory, but my wolf, Diamond, was awake, pacing behind my ribs, her ancient instincts thrumming with lethal anticipation.‘No shifting,’ I reminded her firmly, keeping a tight, iron grip on our shared consciousness. ‘If we shift, we show them the size of our aura. We show Oney what we used to be. Keep it human and hidden.’"You don't have to do this, Inzinga," Seth muttered, stepping up beside me.He looked entirel

The sharp bite of silver hung in the air, twisting the sticky summer heat into something almost unbearable. Breathing came rough, every draw scraping at my chest. Without Diamond’s strength running through me, my body dragged like it was stitched together with stone.Still, the instincts I’d carried long before I understood what it meant to be a wolf stayed razor-sharp, refusing to dull.As Nahash drove the blade toward my heart, the world tilted into a slow motion. I couldn't block the steel, the mere proximity of the toxin made my muscles unresponsive, a traitorous mutiny within my own frame. Instead, I twisted, my boots sliding on the grit of the pit. The blade grazed my side, slicing through my worn tunic and biting deep into the soft flesh just above my ribs. The searing, acidic sting of the silver was instantaneous, a white-hot trail of agony that sapped the remaining sensation from my left arm.I let out a strangled cry, not of defeat, but of pure, cold focus.Nahash, emboldene

The week following the bout in the Pit was a surreal blur.The pack’s demeanor toward me had shifted from speculative curiosity to a wary, almost heavy-handed respect. It wasn't the kind of warmth you’d find in a normal home, but the nod of a warrior acknowledging another. I walked through the halls, and the conversations would die down, replaced by lowered eyes and quick steps to clear a path.Seth and Maya had become my best of friends.After I’d soundly dismantled the pack’s ‘elites’, Seth seemed to have developed a weird, puppy-like admiration for my technique, while Maya, bless her soul , had become my primary shield against the rest of the pack’s politics. They were always there: in the mess hall, near the barracks, or just sitting in my apartment while I tried to keep my head down and my secrets buried.Then, the official decree came down from the upper levels: I was to report to the training grounds every morning, without exception. To make sure I wouldn't have any excuses, t