Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 41 - Chapitre 50

*Ronan*Storms in the wolf world don’t always come with rain.Sometimes they come dressed as council.The great hall is stone and shadow, banners hanging heavy from the rafters—old victories bleeding into new tension. Firelight licks the walls. Every important wolf within a day’s run seems to have crammed themselves onto benches and chairs, their scents layering into a thick, suffocating stew.Elders in dark wool. My own high‑ranking wolves. Visiting Alphas from neighboring packs. Cassian and Leo stand at my back, one step behind and to either side.I sit at the head of the long table, the carved Alpha’s chair feeling more like a set of stocks.Across from me: Malric, all righteous indignation and carefully schooled grief. To his left, two elders in ceremonial gray. To his right, a visiting Alpha with pale hair and colder eyes. Further down, Jax, in Thorn black—relaxed, deceptively at ease.He doesn’t look at me at first. It’s a power play. I ignore it.“What we are asking is not unre

*Lilah*I don’t make it three steps toward the main building before he finds me.Or maybe I will find him. It’s hard to tell when the bond is a live wire under my skin, humming with his tension. Every foot of space between us feels like it wants to snap closed.He steps out from between two stone pillars, like he’s been pacing there, waiting.We stop a few paces apart.Up close, he looks worse than he did in the hall last night. Not physically—no fresh wounds, no blood. Just a tightness around his eyes, a drained pallor. His shoulders are held too straight, like he’s forcing them square. Alpha‑level exhaustion. The kind you can’t sleep off.“Lilah,” he says.My name in his mouth always lands too deep. Today, it hits bone and grates.“Cassian already gave me the headline,” I say. “One full moon. Three flavors of catastrophe.”His throat works. His fingers curl once at his sides, then loosen. “It’s more complicated than that.”“It usually is,” I say. “But the result’s the same.”We stan

*Lilah*The first blow rattles my teeth.Heat coils under my skin. My wolf stirs, ready to claw free, but I force it down—control first, strength second.Cassian’s staff comes in high and fast; I barely get my own up in time. Wood cracks against wood. The impact shudders down my arms, into my shoulders, all the way through my spine.“Eyes up, Hart,” he calls. “You flinch, you die.”“I’m not flinching,” I grit out.I shove his staff aside and pivot, just in time to catch a second strike from the left.The mid‑rank warrior—Tomas, broad‑shouldered, eager to prove himself—grins as his staff slams against mine.“Thought we were going easy on the Luna,” he pants.“Don’t,” I say, breath burning. “You’ll hurt your feelings when I win.”He laughs—and then I sweep low for his knee.He hops back, barely avoiding it. At the same time, Cassian darts in again, staff aiming for my ribs.Two on one.I asked for this.Sweat slicks the back of my neck. Dust clings to my hair. My boots scuff grooves int

*Jax* Malric smells like old stone and older grudges. The room they’ve given him for “private counsel” is a narrow study off one of the side corridors—too small to be a council chamber, too large to be a storage closet. Shelves line the walls, cluttered with scrolls and ledgers. There’s dust in the corners. Someone lit a single candle and decided that it counted as hospitality. Fitting. He stands by the window slit when I enter, hands clasped behind his back. The view is a slice of forest and gray sky. “Alpha Thorn,” he says without turning. “You came.” “I was curious,” I say, closing the door behind me. “You don’t request secret meetings with a rival without a good story.” “I don’t consider you a rival,” he says. “Then you’re not paying attention.” That earns me a thin smile over his shoulder. He gestures to a chair like a host. I sit, stretching my legs out just enough to look relaxed, not enough to be impolite. The candle throws his face into planes of light and shadow. “

*Lilah*Naomi's scream echoes across the training yard.I spin from the weapon rack, heart spiking—but then I hear the laugh that follows it, sharp and bright, and I relax.She's fine. She's just losing spectacularly.Cassian has her in a basic disarm hold, one arm twisted behind her back, her face pressed against his shoulder. She's thrashing like an angry cat in a sack, feet kicking at nothing."This is a dirty move," she snarls."It's a textbook disarm," he corrects, visibly trying not to smile. "You've been practicing this for three days.""Three days of you cheating," she shoots back."Firecracker, I could do this with my eyes closed.""Obviously not, because you're watching me suffer."I lean against the rack, arms folded, watching the spectacle. A few wolves passing by slow down, amused. Some of them even smile.Two months ago, Naomi would have been dragged off to a cell for this. Now she's being taught holds by the Beta and getting called nicknames.Progress.She catches my ey