บททั้งหมดของ Dagger of the Blood Moon: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

Kai POV​The world has already ended.​That is my very first thought as Atlas violently tears through the collapsed quartz wall of the glade-vein.​I hit the pulsing emerald moss with my claws fully extended, ready to rip Cassian and the Fae Queen limb from limb. I am completely prepared to slaughter every last winged horror in this cavern to get my mate back.​But the battle is already over.​A towering, colossal monolith of living night dominates the absolute centre of the cavern. It is the Shadow Beast. It is a shifting, roiling mass of umbral smoke, void-light, and serrated shadow-teeth. It is so massive it physically scrapes the cracked ceiling, howling a deafening, apocalyptic sound that shakes the marrow in my bones.​And Liora is nowhere to be seen.​I freeze. The pack warriors piling in behind me skid to a terrified halt.​My silver eyes frantically sweep the ruins of the cavern. The skull-altar is completely pulverized into a glowing blue dust. The thorny vines are incinerat

Dax POV​Even bathed in the warm, golden afternoon sunlight of the packhouse, I still catch myself shivering.​It has been three days since the Iron Fang mines collapsed into rubble. Three days since Kai’s blood shattered the Fae Queen's rite. But every time I close my eyes, I still see it. That colossal, world-ending monolith of living night. The Shadow Beast. The sheer, apocalyptic scale of the curse we had nearly unleashed upon the world still turns my blood to ice.​But when I open my eyes, the nightmare vanishes, replaced by absolute, unadulterated chaos.​We are home. And Kai is on a mission.​"The white roses need to be on the eastern archway, not the western flank!" Kai's voice booms across the courtyard. "And tell the sentries to double the perimeter patrols! I want this perfect. Absolutely perfect."​I lean against one of the great oak pillars, crossing my arms and shaking my head with a slow grin.​My Alpha is currently a terrifying combination of giddy and stern. He has no

Kai PovThe drive into the western territories is suffocatingly quiet.I keep my hands steady on the steering wheel of the SUV, but my gaze keeps drifting to the passenger seat. Liora has been silent for the last forty miles, her forehead resting against the cool glass of the window, her hazel eyes staring blankly at the passing pine forests.It has been six months since the glade-vein. Six months since the blood moon fell, the Fae Queen's court shattered, and Cassian was finally put in the ground.Blood Moon has healed, but the rest of the world has not been so lucky. Cassian’s greed and the Fae's toxic magic had displaced hundreds of wolves. Small, vulnerable packs across the continent had been scattered, their homes burned to ash to fuel a war they wanted no part in. The territory borders are currently flooded with desperate, starving rogues who have nowhere else to go.And now, my mate wants to face the epicentre of that destruction. She wants to see what is left of the home she w

Kai POVMy office is blessedly quiet after Dax movedI sit behind my heavy oak desk, leaning back in the leather chair. Liora is standing by the large bay window, the afternoon sun catching the rich auburn tones in her hair. She is looking out over the training yards, her posture radiating a quiet, unshakeable confidence.A sharp, disciplined knock sounds at the heavy wooden door."Enter," I command, letting just a fraction of the Alpha aura bleed into my voice.The door swings open. Torin and Mara step into the office, stopping precisely two paces from the desk.They are a study in contrasts, but together, they represent the absolute best of Blood Moon’s frontline. Torin is a mountain of a man, his broad shoulders practically filling the doorway. He is steady, entirely unfazed by pressure, and loyal to his very marrow. Beside him stands Mara. She is lean, sharp, and coiled with a fierce, nervous energy. The livid, jagged scar tracing up her neck—a brutal reminder of Cassian’s thorn-v

Kai POVThe noise outside the ruined packhouse is deafening.Chainsaws bite through fallen timber, heavy diesel engines roar as debris is hauled away, and the shouts of Blood Moon builders echo off the valley walls. We have been working for six straight hours, clearing the worst of the ash and collapsed stone from the main courtyard.But inside the shadowed, cavernous halls of the east wing, the noise is muted.I step carefully over a collapsed ceiling beam, my flashlight cutting through the thick, swirling dust. Liora is right beside me, her hazel eyes scanning the scorched wallpaper of what used to be a grand dining hall. Torin and Mara flank us, their silver blades drawn but lowered, sweeping the rooms for structural damage or lingering Fae traps.Suddenly, my wolf freezes.Atlas’s ears pin back. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight up. Beneath the overwhelming scent of wet ash and ancient soot, I catch something else.Stale sweat. Fear. And the distinct, sharp tang of a