บททั้งหมดของ GIVEN TO THE WRONG ALPHA: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Moira bows.The Others kneel.Six monsters made of shadow and gold, heads down in my direction.Draven steps between me and them. His claws are out. His wolf is in his eyes. “Get away from her.”“She’s not yours to guard anymore, Alpha,” Moira says. She doesn’t stand. She stays bowed, but her smile cuts. “She’s ours. She’s always been ours.”The bone knife is cold in my hand. I don’t remember grabbing it. The gold light crawling up my arms feels like fire and like home.“Wren,” Draven says. His voice is quiet. Careful. “Put the knife down.”I look at him. Really look. The bond is still there. Still burning. But under it, something else hums. Something older. Something that calls the light.Clay’s cry destroyed the tanks. Not the pack. Wrath was right. First Blood doesn’t kill wolves. It kills enemies.And right now, I don’t know who the enemy is.“Alistair,” I say. My voice doesn’t sound like mine. “Is he dead?”Rowan moves through the smoke. He’s bleeding from his ears too, but he ch

The shadow steps through.It’s not an Other.It’s a wolf.Black fur. Gold eyes. Bigger than Draven. Bigger than Wrath.It hits the courtyard and the stone cracks.Then another steps through. And another.Ten. Twenty. Fifty.All black. All gold. All Hollow.The twelve-year-old doesn’t move. “Hello, Mother,” she says again. To me. “I’m Sybil. Redfang’s vessel.”Redfang. The most violent Hollow ground. Gone for twenty years after the fire.“They burned,” Draven says. He puts himself in front of me. Again. Always. “Redfang burned. No survivors.”Sybil tilts her head. “No *wolf* survivors. The Tree saves its seeds, Alpha. Didn’t your Mate tell you?”The portal pulses. More shadows push against it. Hundreds.Rowan shoves Alistair behind a Thorns shield. “Orders?”“Hold,” Draven says. “Nobody fires first.”“Too late,” Moira whispers. She’s still in fake chains, but she’s smiling. “Sybil doesn’t wait.”Sybil raises one hand.The fifty wolves move.Not at us. At Alistair’s soldiers.The men ar

Cove licks his fingers.Two hundred Blackmire wolves pour through the wall behind him.No roar. No charge. They walk. Slow. Hungry.“Contact!” Rowan shouts.The courtyard erupts.Thorns open fire. Not bullets. Tranq rounds. We need alive, not bodies. D.C. is watching. Alistair’s feed went live six minutes ago.Doesn’t matter. Tranqs bounce off Blackmire hides.“Wrath!” Draven roars.Wrath is already moving. He hits the first line of Blackmire like a truck. Bone breaks. Bodies fly. But for every one he drops, two take its place.Redfang moves next. Fifty black wolves slam into two hundred. No howls. No war cries. Just killing. Efficient. Hollow killing Hollow.“Cove!” I yell. I step forward. The bone knife is back in my hand. I don’t remember drawing it. “Call them off!”Cove tilts his head. Eight years old. Pajamas stained red. Gold eyes too big for his face. “Why? I’m hungry.”He points at Caiden.Caiden’s already moving. Blade out. He doesn’t go for Cove. He goes for the wolf guardi

Sundown is four hours out.Four hours to fix this. Or lose him.“Cove,” I say. “Can you track your brother?”He cocks his head. Blood still on his chin. “Which one? Blackmire’s not the only one coming.”Ice hits my gut. “How many?”“Two.” He holds up fingers. “Silversong’s next. She’s thirteen. She burns.”Thirteen. Fire. Great.“Where?”Cove points north. “Mountains. Two hours run. She’s waiting. Watching.”Watching what we do. Watching if I can control Cove. Test one.“Wrath,” I call to the tree line.He appears. Silent. Always. “Mother.”“Get me Caiden. And Rowan. And Lyana.”“Lyana?” Wrath frowns. “She’s not—”“She’s pack,” I cut in. “And she’s the only one Pride listens to. If this goes bad, we need every First Blood we have.”Wrath nods. Gone.Moira claps slowly. “Going to war, daughter? With children?”“I’m going to stop a war,” I say. “You’re coming too. In chains.”Her smile slips. “Why?”“Because D.C. needs a villain. And you’re it.”She laughs. “You want me to confess again

We run.The mountain blurs. The trees tear past.Fifty Hollow in front. Wrath leads. Cove in my arms, unconscious. Ash over Rowan’s shoulder, breathing but out. Lyana clutches Pride. Geralt guards her. Moira in chains, dragged by Caiden. Alistair gagged, carried like luggage.The camera’s off. D.C. saw enough.Duskbane saw enough.Draven’s howl still rings in my head. Not rage. Not call.Pain.We hit the tree line.Smoke.Not campfire. Not cookfire.Building smoke.Black. Thick.The south wall is gone. The one Cove broke. Now the rest follows.“Report!” Wrath barks to the Hollow line we left.One steps out. Black fur. Gold eyes. Blood on his muzzle. “Blackmire. Second wave. Hit ten minutes ago. While Mother was north.”While I was gone.While I played savior on camera.Sybil set me up. Again.“Casualties?” I ask.“Pack.” He says it flat. “Inner keep breached.”The inner keep. Where I sent Clay. Where I sent Cael. Where I sent Love.No.I run faster.We break the trees.Duskbane is bur