Semua Bab THE PROWL OF THE ICE: Bab 21 - Bab 30

"Don't get too comfortable, Quinn. The ice is thin today, and so is my patience."I stared at the locker room door, my hand tightening around my hockey stick until the composite frame groaned. Alpha Ronan Blackridge didn't even look at me as he spoke, his voice a low vibration that seemed to rattle the very marrow of my bones. He was already geared up, his massive frame making the cramped space feel like a cage."I'm not here for a lecture, Ronan," I snapped, my own voice sounding thinner, more human, than I liked. "I'm here to do my job. You provide the muscle on the ice; I provide the medical clearance. That’s the arrangement.""The arrangement is that you belong to this pack's jurisdiction," he growled, finally turning. His eyes flashed a warning amber, the wolf beneath the skin pressing hard against the surface. "Grimford isn't some safe haven in the UK. It’s a war zone. You being the son of Edward Quinn doesn't change the scent of 'victim' hanging off you like cheap cologne.""I

"That is indeed very strange," Dr. Samuel Hayes muttered, leaning over the holographic display in the Lunar Forensics Lab.I watched the flickering blue light illuminate his face as he analyzed the crime scene data from the Ravencroft Disposal Grounds. "The group is already tearing into this new discovery. We’ve been looking at the victim, Silas Crowe, but we missed the connection to the logistics."I stepped closer to the blackboard where the Pack Enforcers had pinned various relationship diagrams. My eyes narrowed as I traced a line between the rogue victim and a name I hadn't expected to see."Wait," I said, my voice sharp. "Look at this. Silas Crowe's stepbrother was seen at the Silverlight Broadcast Hall factory zones multiple times before the murder. And Noah Vexley was stationed there every single night.""The kid? Noah?" Sam asked, looking up. "How did they even cross paths? Silas's brother is a scavenger from the rogue sectors.""He went to the facility to find Silas," I expl

"Why?"I barely managed the single word, my voice cracking like thin ice under the weight of the betrayal. I stared at Caleb Rourke, the man I had trusted as my primary lab assistant for three years. He still wore that same unassuming, almost dull expression I’d seen every morning in the Lunar Forensics Lab, but the light behind his eyes had shifted into something predatory. It was as if a parasitic soul had hollowed him out and crawled inside.Caleb let out a low, guttural chuckle that didn't belong to the man I knew. "Dr. Quinn, don't try to use that psychological profiling on me. I’m not one of your victims on the table.""You were the one who tampered with the Silas Crowe evidence," I said, the realization hitting me like a body check on the rink. "You didn't just misplace the samples; you swapped them with rogue DNA to throw the Blackridge Task Pack off the scent.""The North needs a change, Jack," Caleb said, his fingertips twitching as they hovered over the silver-lined scalpel

"Dr. Quinn, open this door right now! I know you're in there!"I leaned against the heavy oak frame of the Blackridge Alpha Estate, my knuckles aching from the cold. The freezing Grimford rain was turning into sleet, slicking my hockey jersey to my skin. Behind me, the towering figure of Alpha Ronan Blackridge was leaning heavily against the stone pillar, his breath coming in ragged, whiskey-scented puffs."Ronan, shut up," I snapped, fumbling with the heavy iron handle. "You’re making a scene at your own doorstep. This is the Alpha’s residence, for Spirit’s sake. Have some dignity.""Don't want dignity," Ronan slurred, his voice a low, vibrating growl that rattled my ribcage. He lunged forward, nearly toppling us both into the mud. "Want you to stay. Why are you always leaving, Jack? You're a healer. Heal the ache."I sighed, catching him under the arm. The man was a beast on the ice—the most feared enforcer in the National Hockey League—and even more terrifying in the forest, but ton

Ronan, quit being a brat at your own doorstep! You’re the Alpha of the Blackridge Estate, not some rogue pup looking for a scrap."I glared at Ronan through the falling sleet of Grimford. The ice of the Northern Territory always felt like it was trying to sink into my marrow, but tonight, the cold was secondary to the giant, stubborn werewolf leaning his heavy frame against the ancient stone archway. He had a look in his eyes that usually meant he was either about to start a fight or demand my attention."But this is where you live too, Jack," Ronan growled, his voice a low vibration that rumbled in his chest. "Why are you always in such a rush to leave me?"I rubbed my temples, feeling the onset of a headache. I really wanted to take back every nice thing I’d ever thought about Ronan Blackridge being a disciplined leader. When he was in this mood—half-drunk on adrenaline from the hockey game and half-obsessed with the 'fated bond' nonsense—his destructive power was comparable to a lan