Semua Bab Fake Bond of the Lycan Lords : Bab 141 - Bab 150

Mitchell POV"Take a step back," I say.My voice does not shake. I do not let it. I keep my eyes on the concrete under my boots, counting the grey cracks to stay grounded.Betty does not move. She stands three inches from the edge of the market stall, her chin high. Her fingers twitch against the strap of her leather bag."I heard you," she says."The crowd is getting thick," I say, reaching out. My fingers brush the cold fabric of her jacket. "Adriel and dad want us back at the perimeter before dark. This place is not like our village. It is too wide. Too loud.""It is beautiful," she whispers.She turns her head, her gaze drifting over the shelves of polished shoes and woven belts. There is a small, sharp smile on her lips. It is the expression she gets when she wants to strip a design apart and rebuild it from scratch."We need to move," I say."Give me two minutes," she says.She turns back to the stall owner,

Betty POV"Sit down, Darwin," I snap.My voice cuts through the low rumble of the pack tent like a blade. Robert has just walked out, his boots ripping through the grass, leaving a toxic cloud of silence behind him. Darwin does not sit. He stands there, his knuckles pressed so hard into the wooden map table that the pine groans. His shoulders are rigid under his leather vest.I do not look up at the rest of the warriors watching us. Instead, I stretch my leg out under the table. My boot strikes the toe of his heavy leather shoe. Hard.Darwin flinches. His eyes snap down to mine. His jaw is tight, a thick blue vein pulsing right along his jawline. I do not speak out loud. The tent is packed with Lycans waiting for a slip-up, and walls have ears. I tilt my head, tapping the side of my temple twice.Drop your walls, Darwin. Now.His eyes flicker. A sharp wave of static pops inside my head before his mental

Robert POVThe human girl has teeth.I am locked inside my own skull, surrounded by nothing but thick, black fog and the sound of my own frantic breathing. My Lycan is pacing the perimeter of my mind, his claws clicking against the imaginary stone, his tail tucked between his legs. I cannot see Betty. I cannot see her white wolf."Where are you?" I yell into the dark. "Get out of my head!"Robert.The voice does not belong to Betty. It is deep, heavy, and carries the weight of a thousand dead kings.Darwin steps through the fog. His chest is bare, covered in thick black hair and the silver scars of old silver burns. A split second later, a loud, metallic thud echoes through the space, as if an iron vault door has just been slammed shut behind him.Good, Betty’s voice echoes from everywhere at once. Now all the key players are in the room.What is the meaning of this

Betty POVThe silver screen of Laura’s laptop snaps shut. The last image of Adriel vanishes into black glass.I drop my hands to my sides. My breath leaves me in a slow, ragged exhale. The air in the room feels thick, heavy with the phantom scent of woodsmoke and pine.The fight is over. We survived.My boots click against the floorboards as I drag myself toward the low wooden bench by the window. Every muscle in my thighs aches. My lungs burn with a lingering, phantom smoke. I sink onto the cushions, letting my head fall back against the glass."Betty."Mitchell steps into the frame of the doorway. His shadow stretches long and dark across the floor. He does not cross the threshold. He stands there, his knuckles white against the doorframe, his dark eyes locked on my face."I am fine, Mitchell," I say. My voice sounds hollow, even to my own ears. "Just tired.""You are vibrating," he says. His voice is a

David POV"Move your hands away from the door handle," I say, my voice tight and rough.I do not look at the lycan in the driver's seat. I keep my eyes fixed on the cracked dashboard of the black estate car. The engine idles with a low, heavy rumble that vibrates through the soles of my shoes. My fingers press hard into my knees."The arena is clear," the lycan says. His voice is too deep. It sounds like grinding stones. "You do not dictate where I step, boy.""I do out here," I say. I turn my head just enough to catch the sharp glint of his jawline. "You smell like the monsters that broke my house. If the survivors smell you first, they will run deeper into the dark. They will never come out."The lycan tightens his grip on the steering wheel. The leather groans under his palms.In the back seat, Nina shifts. She holds the strange baby close to her chest. The baby does not cry. It just stares at the back of the lycan’s head with wide,