Lahat ng Kabanata ng Kill Me Alpha, Before I Do (Beast Of Flames Book 1): Kabanata 141 - Kabanata 150

Romy povThe wind howling off the Stormveil cliffs tasted of oncoming snow and ozone, whipping the hem of my emerald-green gown against my boots as I stood near the edge of the ancient stone altar. From this height, the entire valley was laid out like a massive, jagged chessboard of gray limestone and dark pine forests, with the winding ribbon of the gully road disappearing into the northern mist. Below us, the estate was a hive of controlled, intense activity; vanguard soldiers were moving crates of ammunition, reinforcing the courtyard walls, and running tactical diagnostics on the perimeter sensors. But on the high cliffside pavilion, a different kind of preparation was underway–one that looked like a celebration, but felt entirely like a trap. "The dress is too light for this weather, Romy," Rowan’s deep voice rumbled behind me, cutting through the rush of the wind as he stepped onto the stone platform, his heavy hand coming down to rest on the small of my back. He had disca

Romy povThe clouds that had blanketed the Stormveil peaks for three days finally fractured, parting like torn charcoal silk to reveal the absolute, chilling brilliance of the full moon. It hung massive and low over the jagged eastern cliffs, casting a stark, silver sheen across the frost-dusted stone of the ancient altar. The wind off the gorge had grown sharper, carrying the scent of pine smoke from the twin ceremonial fire-pits and the sweet, cloying fragrance of the white jasmine garlands draping the iron boundary posts.Standing in the center of the high pavilion, the cold felt secondary, pushed aside by the thick, static charge of anticipation that hung in the air like a physical weight before a lightning strike.My white ceremonial robes, layered and heavy, billowed softly around my boots with every gust of wind. To any scout watching through thermal scopes from the surrounding pine ridges, I appeared to be a traditional bride, unarmed and draped in fragile silk. But beneath t

Romy pov   The blinding white glare of the full moon caught the first heavy flakes of winter snow, turning the air above the courtyard into a swirling canopy of silver and ash. Below the high pavilion, the absolute chaos of the breach was reaching a fever pitch, the air thick with the deafening roar of automatic gunfire, the sharp metallic tang of spent brass, and the sour stench of burning rubber. Rowan stood like an immovable titan directly in front of me, his submachine gun barking in short, lethal bursts that kept the first wave of Silas’s climbing infantry pinned behind the lower stone balustrade. But I could feel the heat radiating from his skin changing, turning volatile and dense as his inner beast clawed violently against the constraints of his human flesh. I did not wait for the enemy to bridge the final flight of steps. With a quick, smooth twist of my torso, I ripped away the outer layers of my w

Rowan pov Pamela sat sprawled on the gravel floorboards where my charge had thrown her, her dark-blue wool robes torn and smudged with soot, her graying hair falling in a tangled mess across her pale face.She didn't look up with fear or regret; she looked at the dripping blood on my arm with a cold, unrepentant bitterness that made my stomach turn with absolute disgust.   "You are a fool, Rowan," she hissed, her voice a sharp, venomous whisper that carried clearly over the wind. She pointed a trembling finger toward Romy, her teeth grinding together with a desperate, manic intensity. "You are destroying the entire lineage of Stormveil for a scrap of southern trash! She is a broken weapon, a ghost from a dead house that will draw the global directorate down upon our heads until there is nothing left but cinder! I did what your father would have done—I struck to preserve the pure blood of the fire line!""Silence!" I roa

Romy pov The air inside the main conservatory was a freezing maze of broken glass, hanging vines, and white winter snow. Outside, the loud roar of the vanguard battle had finally died down to a low rumble, but inside these glass walls, the silence was sharp and dangerous. The massive iron frames of the greenhouse had been twisted out of shape by stray mortar rounds, and millions of tiny glass shards covered the stone floorboards like a blanket of diamonds. I stepped through the ruins without making a single sound, my heavy leather combat boots finding the clear patches of dirt between the glass with absolute precision. My skintight black ballistic suit was covered in gray ash, but my hands were completely steady as I gripped the handle of my twin ceramic blades.I was tracking a monster. The thick, heavy scent of cheap tobacco and old sweat led straight toward the back exit where the mountain hills began. Silas was running. The great Hunter high commander, the man who had promis