บททั้งหมดของ Beasts Of The Moon Rise Of The Outcasts : บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Emerald. Thursday, 4th March. Next day. Morning. Ford Mansion. Silvaton Ridge. The meeting hall is filled with aggrieved family members. People who lost their loved ones to the massacre that occurred three nights ago. I still can’t get my mind off the carnage that greeted me the following morning, when I finally accompanied Scar and Luke to see the bodies of our slaughtered pack members. Torn limbs. Torn flesh. It was all too gruesome. And the wailing of their loved ones, it cracked me in half. I remember crying on the way back. Scar had to pull the car over somewhere, just to hold me while I sobbed like I was breaking apart from the inside. All through that day, I stayed indoors and cried like a baby. And Scar, he stayed. He didn’t leave. He just stayed. Supported me. Much to my mum’s surprise. “Scar has been very attentive to you throughout this grieving moment,” Mum quietly acknowledged later that night, just before she went to bed. We were alone. Scar had gone to overs

Primrose. Night. We sit at dinner now. Hot meals spread before us. Roast beef, potatoes, vegetables, and that savory white sauce, dripping thick over everything. And not to forget the wine Scar brought. Vintage. Expensive, even from the smell alone. Not to talk of the taste. Rich, deep, almost sinful. We all sit down. Quiet tension sparks across the table at just the sight of all of us gathered here, considering the recent developments and the argument that erupted between Asher, Luke, and I just minutes before Emerald and Scar arrived. Memory detonates inside me. The harsh words I threw at them echo loud and unforgiving in me. “What I am saying, Primrose, is you can’t just invite him for dinner without telling Asher and me. It’s inconsiderate of you, considering that our son has feelings for the woman he’s dating…” “So I’m just supposed to take permission from the almighty Luke and Asher, because Asher can’t grow some maturity and accept that Emerald was never his?” I snapped,

Emerald. Saturday, 6th March. Next day. Ford Mansion. Late Evening. I pace the office at home, clenching my fists so tightly my nails bite into my palms. My eyes keep darting back and forth at the clock as I wait. No, starve for news from Scar. Not a word about him since last night. Not a whisper. Not a signal. Nothing. I’m out of my wits’ end, trapped in this restless waiting. Memories of dinner last night crash into me with full force. Asher’s outburst. The entire conversation circling around late Aunt Erianna, all because I brought her name up. And why was Scar so interested in Erianna? Why did that name affect him like that? I recall the way that glass shattered. The sharp crack still echoes in my chest. And not to talk of the way he bolted out of the room the moment he heard Aunt Primrose’s song. “Ugh!” I groan, sinking onto the sofa. My eyes burn. Hurt from crying. Crying because of the harsh words I threw at Asher mere seconds after Scar disappeared. Crying at what I did

Emerald. Minutes later… I stumble into a clearing, right where Scar’s scent led me. Nothing. No sign of him. My lungs burn from running so fast, from pushing through shrubs and tearing across the earth like a woman deprived, deranged, desperate. I’m still in my wolf form, panting heavily, my trained eyes darting wildly, searching, hunting for him. But he's nowhere in sight. And the revelation from minutes ago floods my mind like soot. Thick, choking and suffocating. Scar is my mate. The one stolen hours after birth. The one we mourned for years. A broken, frustrated sound tears out of me as I morph back into my human form. “Scar!” I cry, my voice cracking through the clearing. The cold bites into my bare skin, sharp and merciless. But I don’t feel it. I don’t care. I have to find him. I have to talk to him. Everything is crashing into me, hard, fast and unforgiving. Then a twig snaps behind me. I freeze. Slowly, I turn. And my eyes land on him. A wolf, large and monstr

Scar. Saturday, 20th March. Two weeks later… Denvers’ Residence. I have been in this house for over an hour now. The longest I have been here since the truth surfaced. I sit with a stack of family albums, flipping through page after page. Watching frozen expressions of Luke, Primrose, and Asher in every photograph. My family. My parents. My brother. The words still feels foreign. Heavy. Everyone has welcomed me with open arms. Everyone in the pack. Even patrol members who were once loyal to Asher. They have all given me something I have never truly known. Warmth. I never had that with Erianna. Never. With her, everything was methodical. Calculated. Every word, every touch, every lesson, just another step toward shaping me into a weapon for her ultimate goal. Vengeance. And now here, in my pack, the pack I was born to rule before I was stolen by Erianna Ford, I find that warmth. Something tightens in my chest. It’s a familiar ache now. One that has lingered ever since the trut