جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 138

Killian’s POVThe name hung in the air like smoke after a forest fire—thick, choking, impossible to ignore. For a long beat nobody moved. The main room felt smaller, the packhouse walls pressing in as the weight of it settled over every one of us. Not some faceless network boss. Not another Callum with tech and ego. One single person. The oldest living Anchor. Someone who’d chosen suppression four generations back and spent every year since making sure nobody else got to choose anything different.Ren sat down slow in the nearest chair, like his legs had suddenly decided the news weighed more than the rest of him. His usual sharp edge dulled for a second, shoulders slumping as he stared at the floor. The prisoner—Dara’s uncle—went very still beside her, eyes locked on nothing, jaw tight like he was chewing on decades of half-truths. Dara glanced at Marcus, her father, and Marcus looked right back at her, that old grief and new understanding passing between them in the quiet. Lorenzo t

Lorenzo’s POV“You’re sure you’re ready to talk about this?” I asked, spreading the maps and notes across the table in the smaller study. The third Anchor sat across from me, looking more settled than yesterday but still carrying that deep exhaustion in their shoulders.They nodded once, fingers tracing a faded line on one of the old territory charts. “Ready as I’ll ever be. You need to understand what we’re actually facing. Thirty years of suppressed ability suddenly released… it’s not just power. It’s precision built on decades of watching and waiting.”I leaned forward, pen in hand, processing every word carefully. “Walk me through it. What does that look like in practice? Not the theory. The reality.”The third Anchor exhaled slow, eyes distant like they were seeing old ghosts. “When an Anchor suppresses their gift for that long, it doesn’t just sit quiet. It builds. Layers on itself. When they finally let it out… it’s like a river that’s been dammed for generations finally breaki

Killian’s POV“You two good out there?” I called from the edge of the courtyard as Jordan and Eli headed back toward the trees for another round. The resonance from earlier still hummed faint in my chest, like the whole packhouse had taken a collective breath and hadn’t fully let it out yet.Jordan glanced back, that steady look on his face. “We’re good. Might be a while. You got the house?”“Yeah,” I said, waving them off. “Go do your Anchor thing. I’ll keep everything from falling apart.”Lorenzo was already inside helping with supplies, so I turned back to the courtyard where a handful of the older wolves had gathered near the big oak. Their faces were tight, shoulders stiff. The resonance had rattled them more than I expected. Not fear exactly, but that unsettled shift you get when the ground moves under your feet and nobody explains why.Marcus was already talking to a couple of them, voice low and calm, but I could tell it wasn’t landing all the way. These were wolves who’d foll

LORENZO POV“Welcome to my life.”Jordan’s words from the end of that last heavy silence still echoed in my skull like the final rumble of distant thunder. I sat there at the massive oak table, my scarred knuckles resting on the worn surface, feeling the weight of everything that ancient resonance had stirred up. The territorial force had settled, but it left this low hum under my skin, a reminder that the oldest Anchor wasn’t some distant myth anymore. He’d reached out. And now we had to decide how the hell we answered.The war room felt smaller than usual, packed with leaders and warriors whose opinions filled the air like smoke. I watched them all, my wolf pacing restlessly inside me, claws itching for something solid to tear into. This wasn’t just strategy. This was about the soul of what Jordan was becoming. An Anchor who chose connection over the crushing loneliness that old bastard had carried for four generations.Ren jumped in first, always the tactician. He tapped his sleek