Semua Bab ALPHAS of the PEAK: Bab 81 - Bab 90

At the start, my haze-filled eyes didn’t register his shadow in the frame, but as the doorway finally snapped into focus, Serena permitted her lips to curve. She was relieved it was this specific wolf out of the two missing from the pack-gathering.He crossed the threshold with a predator’s grace, making a point to thud the heavy oak shut behind him, stifling the boisterous howls from the rest of the manor. The sudden silence was absolute.“Serena.”“Grant,” she answered, raising her arms high in a languid, feline stretch. She could feel his golden-brown eyes tracking the pale skin of her ribs as her tunic shifted upward.You may despise my scent, but you cannot resist the pull.His gaze was clouded with a dark, amused heat. “You’re intoxicated on the mash.”She made a clumsy attempt to right herself but found the gravity of the room far more treacherous than she’d anticipated. Her vision swam by the time her paws hit the floorboards, a jagged giggle vibrating in her throat. “It would

He let out a jagged breath and cut the flow of the wash, slowly dragging a pelt over his skin before sliding into a pair of breeches and retreating to the sleeping quarters. He hadn't bothered to ignite a torch, but the silver radiance of the moon spilling through the balcony archway provided enough light to navigate the chamber. However, as he pulled back the heavy furs and slipped between them, his instincts immediately flared—he wasn't alone in the den."Maddie?" he murmured, his voice thick with shock as he reached out to graze her shoulder. When his pads met the silk of her skin, Harrison knew his senses weren't playing tricks. It was truly her. "What are you doing in my territory?"She stirred at the low vibration of his voice, shifting so her spine was no longer toward him. She rolled onto her side, offering a hazy, soft smile from only inches away. While the sight of it made his heart hammer against his ribs, it was the sharp scent of the peat-mash on her breath that kept him

"You’re here to take what exactly? Because my patience isn't on the guest list."I stood at the top of the Great Hall’s staircase, my fingers digging into the polished mahogany railing until the wood groaned. The air in Cole Manor had turned to static. It tasted of old parchment and cold iron—the distinct, suffocating scent of the Council of Twelve.The man standing on the black marble foyer didn't look up immediately. He adjusted his white silk gloves, the silver embroidery of a crescent moon shimmering on his cuffs. He smelled of ozone and rotted lilies. Deceit."Madeline," the Herald said. His voice was a thin rasp, like dry leaves skittering over a grave. "The Council does not take. It merely corrects."Harrison moved before I could breathe. He didn't walk; he stalked. The floorboards vibrated under the weight of an Alpha’s fury. He stopped inches from the Herald, his silhouette dwarfing the messenger. The scent of woodsmoke and heated copper—Harrison’s scent—flooded the room, war

"Is it the poison or your conscience making you look so pale, Serena?"I leaned against the stone doorframe of the infirmary, my ribcage a cage of fire. The scent of jasmine still clung to the back of my throat, but it was the bitter almond of the wolfsbane that defined the air. Serena Whitlock didn't turn around. She was busy grinding herbs into a stone mortar, the rhythmic scritch-scritch of the pestle the only sound in the room. She smelled of sterile gauze and dried lavender. A mask for the rot."You should be dead," Serena said. She didn't look up from her work. A stray strand of hair escaped her clinical bun, damp with the humidity of the room. "My father doesn't usually miss.""He sent Nadia to finish it," I said. I stepped into the room, my legs feeling like they were made of cooling glass. I reached for a glass vial on the table, my fingers brushing against a stained tunic draped over the chair. The fabric was stiff with old, brown blood. "She failed too."Serena’s hand falte

"You shouldn't have brought that stench back into this house, Madeline."Harrison stood in the center of the Great Hall, his boots crunching on the glass shards from the shattered transom. The scent of woodsmoke and heated copper was jagged now, clashing with the lingering frost on my skin. He didn't move to touch me. He paced the length of the rug, his muscles corded under his shirt like thick cables. The frequency in the room was a low, discordant thrum that vibrated in my teeth."The Shadow-Pack didn't give me a choice," I said.I dropped the leather satchel onto the heavy oak table. It landed with a wet thud. The gold heart inside was cooling, but it still radiated a faint, rhythmic heat that made the air shimmer. I wiped a streak of frozen stag's blood from my cheek, my fingers trembling. The grit under my fingernails scraped against my skin."They called you High Queen," Harrison said. He stopped his pacing and turned, his amber eyes glowing with a sharp, predatory light. "The s