All Chapters of To Breed a Beast BOOK 2: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

My eyes widen in absolute disbelief. "Divorce the master of the bloodline?"Bianca gives a rigid, firm nod. "His temper parameters are completely volatile. His fists struck your frame with maximum force just now. My own lenses witnessed the assault, and it broke my inner wolf's heart. Your station would be far more secure operating completely outside his command structure."My fingers wring together in a knot of pure panic, my voice cracking with financial worry. "But what strategy do I deploy after the separation? My terminal holds zero personal credit streams. How will my lifestyle manage without his vault?"Cedric's legendary rage was notorious throughout the underworld, and his frustration frequently resulted in physical damage to my frame. Despite the brutality, his office always compensated by transferring a massive monthly allowance into my private ledger. With those syndicate resources, my hand could secure luxury items daily, maintaining an elite high-society Luna status acro

Every single member of the vanguard orchestra is currently locked into deep combat rehearsal, their focus completely undeterred by my temporary suspension from the ranks. Walking past the reinforced glass of the war-room rehearsal chamber, my eyes catch a quick glimpse of Grace and the other front-line musicians executing their sonic drills. Without breaking my stride, I turn my back and trail directly behind Darren’s boots toward the master monitoring bunker. Spotting my covered frame passing the glass, Malik Arden blinks his eyes in absolute, stunned disbelief, his brain completely rejecting the data entering his lenses.Did Chika Whitmore's scent profile just pass my coordinate sector? Malik and the surrounding pack warriors lock their eyes onto my retreating form. Is his rank not currently under an absolute suspension order from the high council? Why are his boots marching back into the command fortress? Did the warlord authorize his immediate return to active duty?The exact seco

"Remove your presence from my sight line!" I glare up at the Blackwell heir, my eyes brimming with absolute disgust and raw resentment. "Did your lenses not track that scout's operations? His gear was secretly capturing intimate media files of our bloodlines standing together in the dark. The underground networks are bound to unleash a wave of negative propaganda against my name before the next watch. Your pathetic shadow is only making my survival parameters infinitely harder!"Forcing my trembling muscles to engage, I struggle to stand up without his assistance, limping heavily toward the elevator doors. There is a secure pack infirmary on the upper deck where my own hands can treat the damaged joints.Knowing his uninvited presence contributed directly to my physical injury, Ronan falls into a silent, protective trail behind my boots, his inner wolf silently vowing to act as a shield against any further compliance threats. Unaware that his shadow is still tracking my pace, I contin

TROYWith Darren’s heavy vanguard covering our flanks, Chika slips completely past the paparazzi scouts waiting at the secondary gates and reaches the inner medical facility for alignment treatment. Holding my encrypted laptop case tight against my chest, my station remains faithfully anchored by his side. As the pack doctor wraps the synthetic compression bandages around his swollen joints, my voice tries to mimic the weight of an older commander. "Lord Chika, the warlord issued a direct command ensuring my unit secures your safe return to the primary stronghold the exact microsecond the medical treatment concludes."Chika blinks his dark eyes, turning a highly analytical gaze onto my uniform. "Troy, how many moon cycles has your wolf lived? Has your frame even passed the age of majority?"Clearing my throat to deepen my tone, I answer, "My station has recorded nineteen winters. My mind operates with total maturity.""Does your unit still attend the sector training academy?" he asks,

SIENNA OKAFORThe exact second my scouts reported that Ronan Blackwell had crossed back into the city lines, my boots immediately advanced toward his favorite high-tier hunting tavern to pack an inventory of raw, premium game dishes to welcome his alpha frame back to the estate.My station had visited the Blackwell pack lodge so frequently across the previous moon cycles that the frontline guard wolves recognized my scent profile on approach, allowing my frame to pass through the reinforced security gates without a single tactical fuss. I hand the packed game meat over to the head domestic servant, commanding her unit to heat the flesh over the open hearth and serve the platters to Ronan at a later watch. Turning a highly concerned face toward the old omega, I ask, "Where has Ronan deployed his frame? My eyes have not tracked his silhouette since my arrival. Is his core vitals stable?"The servant bows her head with absolute, deferential pack discipline. "The young alpha is currently