The Alpha's Rejected Mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Ava’s POVThe mountain is struck by snow and the windows gently rattle against the frames.Sometimes after dusk, the storm rolled in and over the Valley Creek within a few hours burying it in white silence. The other side of the strategy room windows is now buried in snow which seems to be falling out of the sky and the rest of the outside world is obscured in shadow and wind.Lanternlight illuminates maps and paper inside.The room has a faint bit of an ink and cedar smoke and melted wax aroma.War-room atmosphere.Not because armies are on the move…All of us know they will, in time.I am seated at the long table in the center, with documents from Dario's files organized in sections on the wood. Financial transfers listed on the left. Council voting records in the centre. Medical authorizations that are closest to me.Cassian leans against one of the bunch of wall maps that show the archive and council time-lines; he has become terrifyingly efficient at this task.After a few minute

At night, when there is a lot of snow on the ground, the eastern wall is close to being impossible to endure.The wind forces itself across the mountain, biting exposed flesh with response and carrying much sharper snow, racked into vivid blue spirals through the torchlight. Valley Creek sinks below the cliffs in a sense of darkness and white drift as the lower bridges are barely visible under the storm.The majority of the mountain is asleep.Or just acting like it.No rest ever comes to a network.Now I can sense the awareness that drifted from far under the land, guards swapping posts along the western ridges, researchers still up and busy and moving about beneath the laboratory floors, dreaming threads crawling about in sleep and low rumblings of emotion.Yet all around me there's a strange quiet in the bond.Not empty.Contained.After a while I realize I'm the one doing it.Clutching onto things too tightly.The letter is tucked in my coat pocket.I've read it 12 times already.

Ava’s POVThe meeting place is incorrect.It is beautifully composed well before the arrival of Gregory.This mountain pass is too far north of the normal border routes, concealed among rugged rock walls and dense pine forests where snow accumulates in uneven snow drifts. No settlement nearby. No patrol fires. Only the wind was moving and blowing snow away from the rocks.Too isolated.Too controlled.I feel the soft passing of the network past my awareness beside me.Ninety-one threads were laid carefully across the mountain.Waiting.Hidden.Milrac may not be seen but is felt as always while not in sight.Steady.Focused.Watching everything.I clench my gloved hands in my coat and once more gaze at the line of trees.Nothing.That irks me more than having visibly stationed guards.Gregory never leaves any space unoccupied, except when it is his.I involuntarily tensed up with a low noise behind me.Movement.Next Gregory Grey emerges from the snow like a part of the snowstorm.Dark

Ava's POVIt's like the mountain is tired.Not weak.Just strained.Much like Valley Creek has had too many days of being under stone and snow without any release.The storm outside has intensified again.The upper cliffs are beaten by the wind, and sheets of snow are spun violently by the wind and fog through the dark, on the outside trails. Every part of the mountain heaves softly under the winter.The inside of the network is weighted.91 threads running under my consciousness, like exhausted heartbeat.Unease.Fear.Protectiveness.It's not said out loud, but we all feel the same thing these days:Gregory is not done.I haven't slept well since the trap.I closed my eyes each time, and I saw that empty meeting point once again.No mother.No antidote.No one but Gregory standing in the snow talking about me as if it was some precious asset I was waiting to be passed from one territory to the next.I'm standing by one of the eastern overlook windows, wrapped in a heavy dark cloak,

Solas's povWhen I talk, the room is in complete silence.Not tense.Focused.The silence of that nature only occurs when there's hope that's becoming life-threatening.I'm in the back wall with my arms loosely folded across my chest as all eyes in the strategy room fixate on me.Maps glow with lantern-light, and tired faces. The storm out here continues to pound the mountain with its heavy waves, but no one seems to notice it anymore in Valley Creek.Not really.It's all become limited in scope because of fear.Ava is watching me intently from the main table.Milrac does too.Different reasons.Ava seems to be on a desperate search for answers.Milrac is like a man that is already calculating the amount of blood those answers cost.I can understand both expressions.For 30 years I have lived with wolves, such as Gregory Grey.It's not long before you realize that information is more of a threat than claws.But he didn't believe in official structures,” I whisper.Nobody interrupts.“