Lahat ng Kabanata ng Fated to the Crowned Wolf: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 6

Sam stared at me, his eyes flaring with a mixture of genuine concern and a frustratingly naive sense of justice. He shook his head, the dish towel in his hand gripped so tightly his knuckles were turning white.“You can’t seriously be planning to let her off the hook again, Elara! Have some goddamn self-respect. The woman is a calculated menace. She doesn’t just come here for the food; she comes here to hunt you. She keeps dragging in these bottom-tier pack guys just to start a riot and humiliate you in front of everyone. When is it going to be enough?”I looked at him, my insides churning with a toxic cocktail of humiliation, physical pain, and a mounting sense of dread.“You think I don’t want her to pay?” I hissed, the salt from the soup still stinging the fresh burns on my neck. “You think I enjoy being a punching bag for Beta's daughter? She has backing, Sam. Total, systemic backing. Her father is Thorne Elvyr. He doesn’t just run the pack’s security; he runs the lives of everyon

Because my people have an ingrained preference for living in close-knit clusters, I find myself constantly navigating a gauntlet of familiar, judgmental faces. I am fortunate in one small regard, though: both my low-paying job at the diner and my cramped apartment are situated on the fringes of the pack’s inner sanctum. To the elite, being relegated to the border is a form of exile, a mark of shame. To me, it is a sanctuary. I have never minded the proximity to the human world. In my experience, humans are inherently kinder and more empathetic to my plight than the shifters who were supposed to be my family.The history of the Wolf Kingdom is deep and ancient, pre-dating the explosion of human civilization on this continent. But while we possess power and longevity, humans possess numbers. They multiply with a rapid, relentless pace, eventually forcing our kind to retreat into the shadows of secrecy. To the modern human, we are nothing more than characters in a fairy tale or myths wh

The healing center was a labyrinth of clinical efficiency, a place where the ancient hum of restorative magic met the sterile, sharp reality of human medicine. Edith guided me through the maze, her stride purposeful, until we reached the very last examination room at the end of a long, dimly lit corridor. She ushered me inside and clicked the lock, the sound echoing with a finality that made my nerves jump. Turning to me, her face was a mask of grim concern.“Tell me exactly what happened, Elara.”I tried to offer a nonchalant shrug, but the movement sparked a protest from my bruised ribs. Edith’s eyes snapped with a sudden, sharp light.“A shrug is not an explanation, child.”“What difference does it make if I tell you the details?” I asked, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. I eased myself onto the edge of the cold metal table. “Can you stop it? Can you guarantee that tomorrow I won’t be back here for the same reason? Because we both know I will.”She didn’t look away, an