บททั้งหมดของ THE ALPHA'S SACRIFICIAL MATE: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

Silas lunged, his massive claws whistling through the air with enough force to decapitate a bull. Ronan, in his wolf form, didn't retreat. He leaned into the silver thread I had woven between us. As I tightened my grip on his wolf as I still sat on him .I funneled the raw lunar energy from my Mark into his muscles. Ronan moved with a speed that defied the laws of physics. He was a blur of shadow and light, ducking beneath the arc of Silas claws . As he passed Silas’s claws , he didn't use a blade; I used a lash of pure silver light. The whip of energy didn't cut deep—it didn't need to. It was a fatal strike, designed to bypass the thick winter fur and graze the skin. A single, bright red line appeared on Silas’s forearm. A single drop of blood hit the white snow, steaming in the frozen air. The drumming stopped instantly. The silence was so absolute that the crack of shifting ice sounded like a thunderclap. Silas shifted back to his human form, his chest heaving, his eyes fixed o

Lira’s POV The morning sun hit the courtyard, illuminating the hundreds of wolves who had been spared from the mindless void of the blight. They were weak, their skin still pale where the black veins had once pulsed, but they were alive. I sat on the edge of the stone fountain, my hands trembling as I tried to lift a cup of water to my lips. Every muscle in my body felt like it had been shredded and stitched back together with jagged wire. Ronan was at my side in an instant, his large hand steadying mine. He didn't say a word, but through the mating bond, I felt the heavy weight of his concern—and his growing fury toward the one who had forced me to drain my life force so completely. "You can't keep doing this, Lira," he whispered, his voice a low vibration that only I could hear. "Every time you reach into that darkness to pull someone out, you leave a piece of yourself behind. I can feel the silver thinning." "I did what had to be done, Ronan," I replied, leaning my head against

Lira’s POV The air in the Crag was thick enough to choke on, vibrating with the Witch’s mocking laughter. Ronan stood frozen, his own sword pressed against the hollow of his throat. His eyes weren't gold anymore; they were a flat, dead grey, lost in a vision of a world where he had already failed. "Ronan, look at me!" I screamed, but the sound seemed to die before it reached him. The Witch’s magic had created a vacuum of sound and light around him. I didn't have time to be gentle. I could hear Dominic’s heavy, metallic footsteps echoing from the tunnels behind us. I lunged forward, not grabbing his sword, but slamming my palms against his bare chest. The moment I touched him, the violet frost of the Witch’s trance bit into my skin. It felt like plunging my hands into a river of needles. I closed my eyes and pushed every ounce of our mating bond into the contact. I didn't send him words; I sent him the feeling of the morning sun in the orchard, the scent of the rain on the moors, a

Lira’s POV The narrow mountain pass was choked with a mist so thick it and filled with ancient grief. We were moving toward the Lunar Peaks, but the air felt heavy, as if the mountain itself was trying to push us back. Ronan walked at the head of the peak, his golden eyes scanning the rocks above. He hadn't slept since the Crag. The betrayal of Kael—his brother in everything but blood—was a wound that wouldn't close, festering more painfully than any physical strike. "Something is wrong," I whispered, my hand flying to the silver-gold pendant. The white glow in my veins, the new power that had replaced the thinning silver, began to hum. It wasn't a warning of sickness; it was a warning of intent. "Shields up!" Ronan’s voice roared just as the first volley of black-tipped arrows hissed through the mist. They didn't come from the Witch’s thralls. They came from the shadows of the rocks—men wearing the silver-and-grey of our own pack. Kael’s defectors. Chaos erupted in the narrow

Lira’s POV The final confrontation isn't fought on the snow of the peaks, but in the shimmering, distorted reality of the Void. As the Solar Eclipse begins, the sky turns into a cloud of black and fire, signaling the end of the old world and the birth of the new. As our hands stayed locked, Ronan and I were pulled from the physical battlefield into a realm of endless mirrors and swirling violet mist. The Witch stood at the center of a dying star, her form flickering between a beautiful queen and a skeletal horror. Beside her, Dominic now a hollow shell of the Star-Iron and shadow snarled, his presence cold enough to crack the air. "You brought the sun to my doorstep," the Witch hissed, her voice echoing like a thousand dying screams. "But here, in the dark between worlds, the sun is just a memory." Dominic lunged, his movements jagged and unnatural. But Ronan, in his metallic platinum wolf form, met him mid-air. It wasn't a fight of teeth and claws; it was a collision of light