บททั้งหมดของ Claimed by the Seven Alphas: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Dorian's drone lifted off from the roof. Its rotor whine compressed into a sharp, droning buzz in the heavy air. The bottom right corner of the projection flashed a real-time image. The outer walls of Alpha City crouched ominously beneath the leaden sky. Every torch had been extinguished. Only a single narrow window deep within the west wing dungeon leaked a tiny, murky glob of yellow light. "Last night at nine-forty PM, the Three Lords transmitted a video via an encrypted channel." Dorian's mechanical voice paused. A hesitation so rare for him. "After intercepting it, I delayed its arrival to your communication devices. I spent seven hours analyzing the footage and audio. I have confirmed there are no simulation artifacts. It is not pre-recorded. It was a live transmission." The projection shifted.

The sound of the iron door scraping across stone wasn't a sharp metallic cry. It was a dull, grinding ache. A rusted iron tenon forcing through a stone groove. So heavy it felt like a file rasping against the eardrums with every inch. The echo ricocheted down the corridor. Several times. Then it died in the dark. The corridor was narrow. Every ten paces, a niche had been gouged into the stone. An oil lamp sat in each one. The wicks had burned down to charred nubs. Fingernail-sized. The flames had shriveled into dim, sallow specks. They trembled in the stale air. No matter how they flickered, they couldn't push back the darkness beyond three feet. Under the lamps, ancie

She was still backed into the corner. Detonator high. Thumb on the switch. The bloodstain spread across her bandages. Down her throat. On her collar. Her eyes still laughed. "You brought your pack. Six on one. Your Alphas fight. But the detonator is mine. One step. I flick it. Your lackeys. The guards upstairs. The drone. Everyone." I stared for three seconds. Both blades to left hand. Right hand free. One step forward. "The third button is a dud." Her pupils snapped. "If it were real, you'd have pressed it. Not shown me." Another step. Three paces between us. My gaze

By the time we reached the front courtyard, dawn was breaking. The eastern sky bled from deep indigo to ash-gray, and from that gray seeped a thin line of pale orange. Morning light spilled through the blown-out gatehouse, falling across the shattered basalt flagstones of the courtyard, dust motes still suspended in the fractured beams of light. Rex's motorcycle was hauled out of the rubble, its engine growling over crushed gravel. Aurelius's white stallion was tethered in the dead pine grove behind the castle's rear gate. As he swung into the saddle, he glanced back. Kane and I were walking out of the gatehouse, the morning light dragging two long, tangled shadows behind us. Aurelius pulled the chocolate pouch from inside his coat, looked down at the golden griffin crest stamped on the bag, tucked it back, and spurred

Cain lay beneath the glare of the surgical light. Elias peeled the tattered combat gear from his body. The fabric had fused with dried blood into a single crusted shell. It tore away with a sound that was faint yet skin-crawling, like ripping parchment soaked through with blood. Cain didn't make a sound. But his abdominal muscles knotted into blocks of iron the moment the fabric separated, every ridge and furrow strained to its absolute limit, carved sharp under the harsh, white glare. Not a single inch of unblemished skin remained on his upper body. The gash on his left shoulder ran from the joint all the way down to the base of his sternum. The wound's edges were glistening red, oozing a pale yellow pus. When Elias f