Todos los capítulos de Fated to the Shadow Alpha: Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

The question hung between them until Damien answered it by pulling away.Not far. Just enough to break the almost-kiss, his hand sliding from her hip with deliberate slowness, fingers trailing across the fabric of her tunic like he was memorizing the shape of her beneath it. His eyes held hers for a long, charged moment, blue fire banked behind control, before he straightened and stepped back."You're staying here tonight." His voice left no room for argument. "Maren will check your bindings hourly. You don't leave this tent."Natasha's jaw clenched."I don't need a...""Natasha."Just her name. Low, firm, carrying the weight of everything he'd done in that interrogation tent and everything he would do to keep her from undoing it."You nearly tore the tissue again tonight. If you push it, you'll lose the use of that arm. Permanently."She hated that he was right. Hated more that he knew she knew it.Her fingers curled against the cot, nails pressing into the rough canvas. The bond puls

The tent flap was warm against his bloodied knuckles as he pushed through.Natasha sat on the edge of the cot, spine rigid, green eyes burning into him the moment he stepped inside. Maren hovered near the supply table, hands clasped tight, but Damien dismissed her with a single look.The healer slipped past him without a word.The tent flap fell shut behind her with a soft whisper.Silence pressed between them.The lantern flickered, casting shifting shadows across Natasha's face, her sharp cheekbones, the stubborn set of her jaw, the fresh bandages wrapped tight around her shoulder. Blood still flecked the gauze.His blood, not hers.He noticed the difference immediately, and something dark and satisfied uncurled in his chest."You're hurt," Natasha said.Her voice was flat, controlled, but the bond betrayed her. Worry laced through it like thread through fabric, sharp and insistent despite her careful composure."Rogue blood."Damien crossed the tent in three slow strides, stopping

Marcus returned with a set of crude iron restraints, heavy bands meant for wolves who needed to be reminded of their place. He handed them to Damien without a word, and the metal clinked with a sound that carried more weight than any threat could.The silent soldier's composure held, but his breathing had changed.Shorter.Shallower.The kind of breathing a man does when he's fighting the urge to bolt and his body knows it can't.Damien crouched behind him, one knee pressing into the dirt. He wrapped the first iron band around the soldier's left wrist, cinching it tight over the existing leather binding, then locked it with a pin that bit into the metal with a sharp click.He repeated the process on the right wrist, pulling until the man's shoulders strained backward, chest thrust forward, spine arched into a position that would become agonizing within minutes."Iron doesn't forgive," Damien said, his mouth close to the soldier's ear. "It doesn't stretch. It doesn't loosen. Every time

Maren worked in silence, her hands steady and efficient as she unwound the old bandage with careful precision.Natasha sat rigid against the tent post, jaw clenched, staring at nothing while the medic peeled away layers of bloodstained cloth.The wound beneath was ugly.Bruised flesh split along a jagged line, the edges swollen and angry despite days of salve and rest."Hold still," Maren murmured, pressing a clean cloth soaked in a sharp-smelling poultice against the wound.Natasha hissed through her teeth but didn't pull away.The salve burned cold.Then hot.It seeped into tissue that screamed with every pulse of her heartbeat.Maren's fingers worked quickly, spreading the paste evenly before pressing fresh linen over the cut."You're not making this easy," Maren said, winding the first layer of bandage tight around Natasha's shoulder and chest. "The more you strain this, the longer it takes to heal. And the Alpha made it very clear what happens if I send you back in worse conditio

The sky hadn't yet broken into full light when Natasha stepped out of the longhouse into the bitter cold of predawn.Frost clung to the palisade walls, glittering faintly under a moon that was beginning its slow descent toward the tree line.The estate was quieter than it had been in hours.Warriors had dispersed to their posts.The council had retired to their quarters.The fires had been banked to low, glowing embers.She stood for a moment at the top of the steps, letting the cold air bite into her lungs, clearing the stale heaviness of the council chamber from her chest.Her shoulder throbbed beneath the fresh bandages Maren had wrapped the evening before.The healer's hands had been steady but firm, her voice clipped with the no-nonsense authority of a woman who had seen too many warriors ignore their wounds.Two more weeks of rest. Minimum.Natasha had nodded, agreed, and immediately begun planning a ride that would take her three days through hostile terrain.Maren would be fur