All Chapters of The Alpha's Enemy's Daughter : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The graves had no flowers.Lucien had never put flowers on them. Flowers were for people who still believed in soft things, and six years ago, every soft thing he had was buried right here in Ironmoor's ruins alongside his pack.He stood at the edge of the row, arms at his sides, jaw tight. Twenty-three graves. His father. His mother. His brother Eli, who was fifteen and had barely learned to control his shift and more than twenty wolves who had trusted the treaty. Who had gone to sleep believing the Oakshade Packs' promise of peace.They never woke up.Lucien crouched down and pressed two fingers into the cold ground above his brother's grave. He didn't speak. He never did. Words couldn't reach the dead, and he refused to pretend otherwise.But the vow was there, the same one he renewed every time he came, silent and heavy, and as permanent as the scar that ran from his left shoulder to his ribs.Not one Oakshade Pack wolf would die peacefully. Not a single one.He would make sure o

Greymist Ridge was exactly what the name promised.Grey. Cold.A long stretch of open ground between two tree lines, where neither pack had full advantage. Neutral ground, the Council called it. Lucien called it a place where wolves came to pretend they trusted each other.He arrived with Draven and four of his senior wolves. No more, no less. The Council had set the number. He had not argued. He was saving his arguments for things that mattered.They reached the centre of the field and stopped."They're already here," said Draven, in a low voice.Lucien had seen them. A group of Oakshade Pack wolves stood at the far tree line, dark cloaks, straight backs. At the front of them was a figure slightly apart from the rest. Smaller than the soldiers around her.Roric Vael was not among them. He had sent his daughter the way you sent a signed document. No need to be present for the delivery.Something about that made Lucien's jaw tighten."Move," he said.They crossed the field.****He ha

Nobody came to show her to breakfast.Alira had been awake since before the sun came up, which meant she had not really slept. She had lain in the unfamiliar bed and listened to the sounds of a new territory settling into morning. Distant voices. The creak of a gate. Somewhere, a mut barking once and then going quiet.She had waited till after the hall sounds picked up below. Then she got dressed, put her hair up, and went to find food herself.The great hall was not hard to find. She followed the smell.It went quiet when she walked in.Not the loud kind of quiet. Not the kind where people stop and stare openly. The kind where conversations lower and eyes cut sideways, and everyone suddenly finds something very interesting about their plate. She had grown up in Oakshade Pack territory. She knew that kind of quiet. It was the sound of a room deciding what you were.She picked up a empty bowl from the end of the table, filled it from the pot near the fire, and sat down at the far end o

Brix came in just before midnight.Two wolves carried him between them, one arm each, his feet barely finding the floor. He was a big man, the kind who had clearly been built for trouble in his younger years, broad across the shoulders and scarred in the specific way of someone who had survived things most people didn't. But a fever didn't care how dangerous you used to be. It just burned.Wren took one look at him and her face did the thing it did when she was already calculating how bad this was going to get."Brix," she said, guiding him to the bed on the right. "How long?""Two days," one of the wolves carrying him said. "He wouldn't come in. You know how he is.""I know exactly how he is," Wren said, pulling back the blanket. "Stubborn old fool."Brix made a sound that was probably meant to be a protest but came out as something closer to a groan. His skin was burning when Alira pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Not just warm. The kind of heat that meant the body had

She found Brix in the yard.He was sitting on a low bench outside the storehouse, face turned up to the thin morning sun like a man who had decided he had spent enough time horizontal. He looked better than he had any right to after three days in a sick bed. Older wolves healed stubborn, Wren had told her once. Like they had something to prove.He heard her coming and didn't look up. "Healer," he said."You're not supposed to be out of bed,” Alira said. “You're supposed to be resting," "I am resting," he said. "Outside."She sat on the other end of the bench without asking. He glanced at her sideways, then back at the yard.She took his wrist and checked his pulse. He let her, which she took as a good sign. Fortunately, his pulse was steady and strong. Better than it had any right to be after the fever he had put himself through. She finally set his hand down.Neither of them spoke for a moment."What you said," she started. "When your fever broke."Brix raised a brow, “I said quite