Lahat ng Kabanata ng Fated to the Shadow Alpha: Kabanata 171 - Kabanata 180

The command tent filled quickly, bodies pressing into the cramped space until the air grew thick with the scent of wolves and anticipation. Marcus took his place at Damien's right hand, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression guarded beneath the flickering lamplight. Hale positioned himself near the entrance, his scarred face unreadable, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade as though trouble might walk through the flap at any moment. Gideon remained by the map table, his lean frame hunched over the charcoal markings as he traced possible routes with a calloused finger, exhaustion carved into the lines around his eyes but his focus absolute.Natasha stood at Damien's left, close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm when she shifted. The contact sent a pulse through the bond, warm, steady, a reminder of what waited beneath the tactical calculations. She forced herself to focus on the map, on the terrain, on the cold logic of war. But part of her remained acutely aware

The ravine narrowed as they pushed deeper, its walls pressing close like the ribs of some ancient beast. Natasha could feel the change in the air, heavier here, damper, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke and something else.Metal.Oil for weapons.Her wolf senses prickled, drawing her forward with quiet certainty.Gideon tapped her shoulder twice.Slow down. Ahead.She obeyed without hesitation, dropping her pace to a crawl.The three of them moved through the undergrowth in tight formation, bodies low, every footfall placed with surgical precision. Soren flanked left, disappearing into the shadow of a fallen oak, his lean form barely distinguishable from the rotting bark. Gideon held position to her right, his broad frame pressed behind a cluster of boulders thick with moss.Natasha found her own cover behind a dense thicket of brambles, their thorns catching on her leather armor as she settled in.And there it was.The enemy camp sprawled before them in a natural clearing where t

Natasha crouched low behind the thick underbrush, her breathing shallow and controlled as she watched the enemy camp below.Torin moved through the perimeter with the deliberate pace of a predator surveying his territory, tall, broad-shouldered, his dark armor catching the faint moonlight. He walked with the confidence of a wolf who owned every shadow around him.But he was looking outward.Not behind.Not at the dense treeline where Natasha lay hidden beneath layers of darkness and stillness.She held her position, counting his steps, mapping his patrol pattern.Three heartbeats.Five.Ten.Torin's gaze swept past the ridge where she crouched without pause, without flicker of recognition.He hadn't sensed them.The forest's thick canopy and the downwind position Gideon had chosen were doing their work.Torin disappeared around the eastern edge of the camp, his boots crunching softly on dried leaves.Natasha waited until the sound faded completely before she moved.She snapped her fing

The forest swallowed them whole.Damien moved at the front of the column, his body cutting through the darkness like a blade itself. Forty warriors followed in his wake, their footfalls muffled by damp earth and years of training. The moon hung low, a pale sickle offering just enough light to see by, not enough to be seen.The bond tugged at his chest—Natasha's presence flaring warm and steady somewhere to his left, already peeling away from the main column with Gideon and Soren at her flanks. He didn't look. He couldn't afford to. If he looked, he'd pull her back. He'd drag her behind him and chain her to his shadow where no blade could reach her.Focus.The ravine opened ahead, its narrow mouth flanked by dense pine. Gideon's advance team had already cleared the forward sentries—two bodies lay crumpled in the underbrush, throats opened in silence. Damien stepped over them without pause."Marcus," he murmured into the dark.A shadow detached from the tree line to his right."Eastern

The eastern sky had barely begun to lighten when Damien returned.Natasha heard him before she saw him, the crunch of boots on loose gravel, the low murmur of voices as warriors parted to let him through.She turned from the fire, her body tensing instinctively, every ache and exhaustion sharpening into alertness.The bond flared between them, hot and urgent, and her breath caught at the raw intensity pouring through it.Damien emerged from the tree line like something forged in the fires still smoldering on the northern horizon.Blood caked his chest and arms, most of it not his own. A shallow gash across his ribs had already closed, leaving only a pink line against his bronzed skin. His dark hair was matted with sweat and ash, his crystal-blue eyes burning with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.He moved through the camp with the controlled prowl of a predator still in hunting mode, every muscle coiled, every sense alert.Their eyes met across the clearing.The bond pulsed,