Todos los capítulos de Her Alpha’s Kryptonite: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

Jasmine’s POVI told Tristan about Fabian’s revelation, we were in the penthouse living room after Marc had gone to bed. The city lights made a low glitter beyond the glass. I kept my voice steady and told him everything without escalating things. Fabian had identified me as a silver wolf, he had told me the amulet I had worn since childhood was not simply protecting me from an ordinary curse or muting common wolf abilities. It had been suppressing a rare bloodline. Then I told him about the offer—protection, access to the Clay family archives, a place in Fabian’s network where I would not be treated as someone else’s asset.Tristan listened without interrupting.When I finished he did not say anything right away. He walked to the office window and stood with his back to me, looking out over Cresthaven. The silence stretched long enough that I understood he was working to keep his reaction under control. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and deliberately held in check.“Fabian

Jasmine’s POVI was still sitting in Wade’s back room when I found an envelope.The clinic records stayed open on the table between us, the same records that had rewritten my mother’s death from ordinary illness into something deliberately inflicted. Wade had stepped away to pull another file from the secure drive. I kept scrolling through the pages carefully, matching dates and symptoms the way he had shown me, when I sighted something that did not belong, hidden carefully on the desk.An old envelope had been tucked neatly under the keyboard of the computer, it was pressed flat and hidden so carefully that it could not have slipped there by accident. Someone had placed it on purpose.I drew it out slowly.My mother’s name was written across the front in faded ink. The handwriting was hers, I would have known it anywhere, even thinned by years and the dim light of the back room, the seal still looked untouched. Whatever sat inside had been meant to stay closed until the right person

Jasmine’s POVAbe spread the information across the table with the same careful energy he brought to every lead he had been holding too long.They contained old sighting reports, photographs that were grainy or taken from too far away, travel records that stopped and started without clean explanation. Locations pinned across a map in a scatter that refused to form a single fixed point. I stood over the spread and forced myself to look at each piece before I let the whole shape land.The trail was incomplete in a way that felt deliberate.The sightings were separated by months, sometimes by years. Each one placed Winton Payne somewhere different—border towns, temporary addresses, brief appearances in cities that did not keep him. He had spent years moving, never staying long enough for anyone tracking him to close the distance. The pattern was not the chaos of a man lost. It was the discipline of a man who knew how to stay ahead of pursuit.The final confirmed sighting was fourteen mon

Jasmine’s POV I took Marc back to the old house to spend the afternoon with Zea. Since the move into Tristan’s penthouse, ordinary time with her had become rare. The rooms still smelled like the life we had built before everything tightened—laundry soap, the faint crayon scent from Marc’s drawings, the particular quiet of a place that had held us through worse years. Marc ran straight to Zea and wrapped his arms around her waist. She laughed and lifted him off the ground the way she always did, and for a while I let myself sit at the kitchen table and simply exist in the familiarity. We talked about small things, like the new security detail, how Marc was sleeping, whether the cracked amulet had worsened. Nothing that required a strategy board, just the kind of conversation that reminded me I still had a friend who knew the shape of my life without needing every classified detail. The normality did not last. My phone rang while I was standing near the kitchen window, watching th

Tristan’s POVJeff had called and informed me about the meeting, I drove to the park and I watched the meeting from inside the car.The angle gave me a clear enough view of the bench without putting me close enough to interfere with the conversation itself. Jasmine sat with Marc against her side. Marshall occupied the space within reach of both of them. Jeff held his position nearby, exactly as planned.I had been watching Marshall from the moment he arrived.The way he spoke to Jasmine, the careful sincerity layered over every sentence. The repeated attempts to draw Marc into the exchange despite the boy’s obvious reluctance. Every movement, and every small lean that tested how much closer he could get before someone shut it down. Then Marshall reached toward Marc.The movement was not aggressive, it was not even particularly fast. A hand extending in the space between adult conversation and a child who had not invited the contact. Instinct did not wait for reason to finish its asse