บททั้งหมดของ His rejected curvy secret : บทที่ 191 - บทที่ 200

Faye POV The silver energy raced toward us. I knew I could not dodge it. I could not block it. I could do nothing except shield my daughter with my body and hope it was enough. Time slowed as the bolt closed the distance. In that stretched moment, I thought about everything I had fought for, everyone I had tried to protect, and all the choices that led to this impossible moment. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I tried. I hope it was enough." Then the baby moved. She did not move physically. Her tiny body stayed still in my arms. But through the echo, through the network, through channels I did not know existed, my daughter reached out. Reality seemed to pause. The silver energy stopped mid-flight. It froze in the air like a photograph, hanging motionless just inches from my chest. Around the battlefield, everyone froze. The guardians, the pack wolves, even Jacob mid-stride—all locked in place by power I had never witnessed. Only I remained able to move. My daughter was deliberately

Jacob POV Jacob saw the rogue guardian's attack building and knew with sick certainty that he would not reach Faye in time to intercept it. The baby had stopped the entire group before, but she was clearly exhausted from that display of power. He could feel her weakness through the network. He could sense how much that intervention cost her. She would not be able to stop this one. Jacob threw himself forward anyway, knowing it was futile, knowing he was too far away, but unable to do anything except try. "Kian!" Jacob shouted. "Marcus! Move!" Then something impossible happened. The network—every wolf connected to it—moved as one. Not coordinated by conscious thought or deliberate strategy, but driven by pure instinct amplified across all of them simultaneously. They felt Jacob's desperation, felt Faye's terror, felt the baby's exhaustion, and they responded with perfect synchronization born from shared purpose rather than individual decision. Twenty-three wolves moved in p

Jacob pov Three days had passed since the network became fully bound, and Jacob was struggling to adapt to a reality where his body no longer felt entirely his own. He woke each morning with aches that belonged to other wolves—Sarah's arthritic knee, Marcus's old shoulder injury that never healed properly, Kian's residual pain from his near-death experience. He tasted food through multiple palates simultaneously, experienced weather through dozens of different sensitivities, and could no longer tell with certainty which memories were his and which had bled through from the others. The physical binding had intensified everything the emotional network created. They did not just feel each other's emotions anymore. They experienced each other's physical sensations, shared each other's dreams, lived each other's memories with enough clarity that individual identity became increasingly difficult to maintain. Jacob tried to lead the pack through this transition, to help them establish bo

Chapter 198 – Jacob pov Jacob made the hardest decision of his leadership in less than thirty seconds: they had to abandon the territory immediately. There was no time to pack properly, no time to gather supplies or organize an orderly retreat. They took what they could carry and they ran, leaving behind everything they had built, everything they had fought to protect, because staying meant certain death or corruption for everyone. The evacuation was chaos incarnate. Injured wolves who could barely walk were carried by those strong enough to support them. Children were gathered and guarded by rotating defenders. The connected wolves struggled to function as the network became overloaded with panic and grief from two dozen sources simultaneously. Jacob tried to maintain order, to keep everyone moving in the same direction, but he was fighting a losing battle against fear that was entirely justified. They did not know where they were going. They did not know if anywhere was safe. T

Jacob POV Jacob stared at the figure emerging from the corrupted forest and felt his mind struggling to process what his eyes were reporting. Korran should be dead. The injuries from the awakening, combined with the corruption seed's destruction, should have been more than enough to end him. But the thing walking toward them wearing Korran's face was no longer entirely alive in any conventional sense. The corruption had consumed most of his body, replacing flesh and blood with something that looked like a living shadow held together by desperate will. Only his face remained mostly intact, recognizable, human enough to identify but twisted by pain and obsession into something barely sane. He moved with unnatural fluidity, no longer constrained by normal physical limitations, and the corrupted land itself seemed to part for him, to welcome him, to serve him in ways that suggested he had become something far more dangerous than the calculated scholar who first entered their territor