All Chapters of THE LAST BREEDER, CLAIMED BY FOUR: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

EDALThe grey morning light filtered slowly through the narrow stone slits of the bedchamber, casting long, pale streaks across the heavy oak floorboards.Tarek was still asleep beside me, his long frame buried deep beneath the black fur blankets. His chest rose and fell in a slow, deep rhythm that felt like a steady anchor after the chaos of the last three days. The tight white linen bandage around his waist was clean and dry, showing no fresh red spots, and the burning heat that had radiated from his skin during the fever night was completely gone.I sat up quietly, resting my elbows on my knees as I pulled the thick wool blanket around my bare shoulders.My mind was clear, stripped clean of the violent rage that had driven me down into the iron ring the night before. Helena was broken. The soil cure ledgers were being filled line by line. But as I looked at Tarek’s calm, resting face, I knew the real fight for Haven was only just beginning.A quiet, rhythmic knock echoed against th

EDALThe high solar was quiet, saved from the freezing mountain gale by the thick oak shutters and a roaring hearth of birch logs. Outside, the blizzard howled down the granite gorge, burying the lower battlements in white drifts.I sat at the head of the heavy oak table with three military ledgers spread before me under the warm glow of an oil lamp. Beside me stood Nikolai—one of Gregor’s young wild wolf trackers who had stayed behind to coordinate the joint perimeter patrols.He was broad-shouldered and tall, his dark hair falling in messy strands over a face mapped with light hunting scars. Though he carried a heavy hunting blade at his hip and had killed two coastal mercenaries in the eastern thicket without blinking, he looked deeply uncomfortable standing beside the table. His large, calloused fingers were nervously fidgeting with the frayed hem of his leather tunic."You've been standing there for ten minutes, Nikolai," I said, without looking up from my ledger. "If you need mo

EZRAThe lower aqueduct tunnels beneath the keep were dark, freezing, and slick with ancient ice.Down here, far below the warm timber halls and the roaring hearths of the high solar, the mountain’s subterranean spring ran through a massive, arched granite conduit. The air smelled of wet limestone, cold copper, and the sharp, piney scent of winter wolf pelts.I walked along the narrow stone ledge running beside the rushing water, holding an iron oil lantern high to cut through the shadows. The yellow flame flickered against the damp walls, casting long, dancing shadows over the heavy ceiling beams.Behind me, Nikolai walked with smooth, silent strides. His heavy wolf-skin cloak brushed against the damp stone, his dark eyes constantly scanning the ceiling arches and the iron water grates for any sign of rust, weakness, or movement."The third intake grate is two yards ahead," Nikolai said, his deep voice carrying a low, echoing rumble through the narrow stone space. "Rylan’s guards che

EDALThe grey dawn broke over the high peaks in complete, agonizing silence.The storm had finally died down to a dull, freezing mist, leaving the eastern forest coated in a thick, glittering layer of blue ice. But down near the lower timber line, fifty yards beyond the perimeter wall, the snow was painted in broad, violent smears of crimson.I stood over the body, my boots sinking four inches into the frozen drift. My hands, encased in heavy silver leather gloves, hung uselessly at my sides."Old Ducky," they called him. He wasn't old—he was twenty-four, with a splash of reddish freckles across his nose and a loud, foolish laugh that usually rang out from the lower armory every time he polished a breastplate. He had earned the ridiculous nickname during his first winter as a scout because his thick wool boots made a wide, wet slapping sound whenever he trudged through the lower garden mud.Now, Ducky lay motionless on his back in the stained snow, his bright blue eyes wide and starin

EDALThe narrow canyon opened up into a dark, snowy clearing surrounded by tall granite cliffs.At the far end, crouched on a ledge of thick ice, was the rogue wolf.It was a huge, terrifying beast. It was almost as big as a mountain bear, with a skinny body that showed its sharp ribs beneath its patchy grey fur. Its hair was matted with old blood, and its yellow eyes burned with wild, crazy anger. Across its left shoulder was a long, bloody rip—the wound Ducky had given it before he died.The beast let out a deep, horrible growl. Hot air blew out of its snout into the freezing wind as soon as it saw us."Stay up on the high rock," I whispered to Nikolai. I pulled the heavy bowstring back to my cheek, my fingers tight against the leather. "I will shoot its eye.""He is going to jump, Edal," Nikolai warned low in his throat. He dropped down into a hunter's stance, holding his iron spear out in front of his chest. "His back legs are bent."Before I could let the arrow go, the giant wolf