Lahat ng Kabanata ng CLAIMED BY THE CURSED ALPHA : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The air in the subterranean corridors of the Silver-Moon pack house grew progressively colder, thick with the sharp, burning scent of raw silver. My skin prickled in protest. As a human, the silver lines etched into the stone walls didn't incinerate my flesh like they would a werewolf's, but the sheer density of the oppressive magic made my breath rattle in my throat. I pulled my dark cloak tighter around my shoulders, slipping past the empty guard post. Silas had kept his word; the perimeter was clear for exactly ten minutes. I reached the heavy, iron-reinforced door of the deepest cell and slid the viewing latch aside. Inside, chained to the wall by heavy silver shackles that hissed against his wrists, was Caleb. My heart shattered. The brilliant, proud Alpha King was forced to his knees, sweat drenching his dark hair, his jaw clenched in pure agony. "Caleb," I whispered, unlocking the heavy deadbolt with the key Silas had stolen. I slipped inside and slammed the door shut behind

The wind in the Dead Lands didn't just blow; it bit. It carried the scent of ancient ash and the metallic tang of the silver chains that still hung loosely from my wrists. Every step I took felt like I was dragging a mountain. Behind me, the massive iron gates of the Silver-Moon territory were a fading shadow in the violet gloom of the eclipse."Move, human," a guard barked, shoving me forward. "The Alpha’s orders were clear. You walk until you reach the Black Marker, or until the shadows claim you."I stumbled, my knees hitting the frozen dirt. I clutched my stomach, the rhythmic thrumming of the hybrid heir pulsing against my palms. "I can't... the baby...""The baby is the reason you're out here," another guard sneered. "A witch's spawn doesn't deserve the pack's soil.""That’s enough."The voice was cold, sharp, and cut through the wind like a razor. Silas stepped out of the mist, his obsidian eyes fixed on the guards. He was dressed in his full Enforcer leathers, his hand re

The ash of the Dead Lands still clung to my skin, but it no longer felt like the dust of the grave. It felt like war paint. Beside me, Silas moved with the silent lethargy of a wounded predator, his eyes never leaving the golden glow that emanated from my very pores."You’re going back there?" Silas rasped, his voice strained as he clutched his side. "Elara, the eclipse is nearly total. The ritual is at its peak. You’re walking into a slaughterhouse.""I’m walking into my home, Silas," I said, my voice resonating with a depth that vibrated in my teeth. "And I’m taking back what belongs to me.""You look... different," he whispered, looking at my eyes. The gold hadn't faded; it had intensified, a molten sea of authority. "They won't see a human girl. They’ll see a goddess. They’ll be terrified.""Good," I replied, the word a sharp snap of ice. "They should be."The Silver-Moon pack house was ablaze with light, a grotesque celebration of a forced union. From the tree line, I could

The marble beneath me was slick with spilled wine and the gold-red pulse of my own blood. My water had broken in a rush of heat just as the ritual dagger shattered, and now every breath was a battle against the searing contractions of a hybrid birth. But there was no time to scream. The High Hall had become a slaughterhouse of shadow and silver."Elara!" Caleb’s voice was a tectonic shift, a roar of pure Alpha power that shook the very foundations of the estate.He was up. The violet threads of the Blood-Bind were nothing but scorched air around him. He looked like a god of war, his amber eyes burning with a decade’s worth of suppressed rage."Don't move!" Silas shouted, sliding across the floor to my side, his shattered black-glass blade replaced by a heavy silver broadsword he’d stripped from a fallen guard. "I’ve got her, Caleb! Kill that thing!"The "thing" was Seraphina. Or what was left of her. The Corrupted Wolf—a twitching, seven-foot mass of oily black fur and four glowin

The Silver-Moon territory had changed, but the man standing at the edge of the Moon-Cleft had not. The war was over. The Obsidian Crest was a memory of ash, and the "Great Merger" had ended in a bloodbath that redefined the hierarchy of the northern packs. Caleb was no longer just an Alpha; he was the Alpha King, his authority absolute, his power undisputed.But as he stood over the jagged ravine, his crown felt like a leaden weight."Sire, the Council is waiting," Silas said, his voice soft, devoid of its usual sharp edge. He stood ten paces behind Caleb, his arm still in a heavy sling from the Battle of the High Hall. "The Blood-Fang Alpha is demanding a signature on the new borders.""Let them wait," Caleb rasped. His voice sounded like it had been dragged over broken glass. He didn't turn around. He just stared into the gray mist of the ravine, the same mist that had swallowed his soul weeks ago."Caleb, it’s been twenty days," Silas stepped forward, his boots crunching on the