Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wrong Brother's Bite: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

Cedric steps out from the pantry, his old wolf eyes serious. "Mr. Everett and Baxter used to run wild together in their younger days. They pulled all sorts of dangerous stunts along the border.""They were reckless back then," I remind them softly, pulling a heavy cloak over my shoulders."It wasn't their age, Luna," Cedric counteracts grimly. "It was their bloodline. Baxter hasn't changed a bit, despite getting older.""All I know is Alpha Sterling will lose his mind if he finds out you went out drinking with Baxter," Maribel adds tightly."I will handle my husband when he decides to return home," I say, pushing open the heavy door."More likely his wolf will handle you," Maribel mutters under her breath.The Moonriver Trail lodge is packed with pack fighters and river scouts when I arrive. Rustic timber beams hold up the roof, and the walls are covered with mounted silver blades, wolf pelts, and old territorial maps. Baxter sits at the heavy stone bar, oozing charm as he slides a mu

"Put that comms unit down, Maisie, or so help me God, I will tear it off the wall," Sterling growls, his massive frame blocking the light from the hallway as he stalks toward me. His golden eyes flare with pure predatory fury, his Alpha aura hitting me like a physical punch that leaves my lungs fighting for air."I didn't invite him to call me, Sterling!" My voice trembles as I back away, my heels catching on the heavy oriental rug. My broad hips collide with the edge of the polished mahogany console table, trapping me between his towering, muscular form and the wall. "I've told Baxter a dozen times to leave me alone!""And yet he calls you at noon every single day like clockwork," Sterling snarls, slamming his hand against the wall right beside my head. The wood cracks under his raw strength. "Just like you used to sneak down to the edge of the Silvermoon River to whisper sweet secrets to him behind my back!""That was never what happened!" Tears burn the back of my eyelids, but I re

“Whose car did you clip?” Sterling’s growl rumbled through the floorboards, raw and possessive, echoing from a place three agonizing years in the past.He did not hit the brakes. He slammed his foot straight down on the accelerator.I shrieked, clutching my head as the heavy truck lurched forward, but the survival instinct of my pack kicked in before panic could freeze my veins. Fighting against the constriction of the leather harness pinning my plush frame to the passenger seat, I reached across the console with every ounce of force in my body. My hands locked around the leather steering wheel. I heaved with all my strength, trying to wrench the vehicle off its deadly course to avoid the bone-crushing impact ahead.The edge of the trail—the muddy embankment bordering the trees—it was right there. We had to hit it.The steering wheel would not yield. It stayed deadlocked in his iron grip, completely frozen against my full weight. There was nothing more I could do. A sharp, hysterical

“Someone help us! Please!” I scream in our native tongue, pounding my raw fists against the heavy oak door of the Veysey Pack House.The copper scent of wolf blood coats my throat, thick and metallic. Behind me in the cramped washroom, Elsie’s lifeless body rests in a darkening pool on the cold stone floor, her neck slit by her own desperate hands. Beside her, Marnie lies unconscious after striking her head on the stone basin during our panic. The bond in my chest aches with a phantom pressure, the collective grief of captive females pushed past the brink of sanity.I am Eira Montrose, a former Pack Healer, now reduced to a collared beast in the dark.Heavy, iron-shod footsteps echo down the corridor. My heart slams against my ribs like a trapped bird. I tuck the makeshift shank—a melted plastic brush with a razor embedded in the tip—deep into the sleeve of my ragged tunic. My inner wolf scratches at my ribs, snarling for blood, demanding retribution for our fallen sister.A heavy key

“Pick up your feet, girl,” I snap, my voice like gravel against the cold night air as I drag my gaze across the decaying border of the Northmere Industrial District.My breath mists in the freezing blackness, thick with the scent of pine, diesel, and wet ash. My inner wolf paces behind my ribs, restless, snapping at the bit. Viktor Dempsey—that rogue bastard Alpha—isn't showing tonight. Again.The security around this Veysey Pack House is a complete fucking joke. I watch the greasy rogue lookout slouching between the rusted shipping containers. He’s got a joint hanging out of his mouth, head bobbing to music in his headphones, totally oblivious to his surroundings. He hasn't noticed a six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-forty-pound Alpha wolf watching him from the shadows of an abandoned warehouse across the road. This territory is a shite hole. Normal humans keep their blinds pulled tight, and rogue packs hunt the streets like feral dogs. If this idiot belonged to the Fenmore Pack, I’d ri