《The Alpha's Plump Mistake》全部章節：第 21 章 - 第 30 章

Maya's POV The golden light that poured from my chest was not like the scorching fire of the Council, but a warm, overwhelming tide that made the stone foundations of the catacombs groan. I brought my hand to my mother’s medallion, feeling the metal burn against my skin through the black silk of my dress. The column of light illuminated every corner of the ruined dungeon, revealing Lawrence’s tense features and the wide-eyed stares of Hunter and Chloe, who watched the scene from the jammed elevator as if they were witnessing the end of the world. In front of us, the man in the golden mask did not move an inch. The tip of his golden sword remained fixed on Lawrence’s chest, but his hidden gaze seemed to be locked on me, drawn to the glow emanating from my full frame. “Ethan…?” Lawrence’s voice was a rough whisper, stripped of his usual military arrogance. He took a step forward, but his boots slipped for a millisecond on the melted snow. “It’s impossible. Your mystical core was destr

Maya's POV “Ten minutes,” I repeated, and my voice rang like the echo of a bronze bell in the middle of the weapons courtyard. The blizzard raged around us, sweeping up snowflakes that melted the moment they touched the black silk of my dress. I stared at the bloodstained parchment Kael held with trembling hands. The northern border refugees… the people from the outlying villages who had given me a crust of bread when Hunter banished me to the outer kitchens. Human families and outcasts who bore no blame for the ambitious wars of the Supreme Alphas. “You are not going anywhere, Maya,” Lawrence’s voice boomed behind me, heavy and filled with such possessive resolve that it chased away the cold from my back. His massive hand closed around my bare shoulder, holding me with rough firmness that forced me to straighten my spine. “They are innocent, Lawrence,” I replied, turning slowly to face him, forcing my eyes to meet the wild silver glow of his inner wolf. “Hunter captured them becau

Maya’s POV The cold of the Valley of Bones vanished instantly, replaced by a scorching hell that burned right down to my bones. I could no longer see the storm, the iron gate, or the capital convoy; my mind was a silver haze where the only beacon of reality was the suffocating heat of the arms holding me. Lawrence carried me with brutal urgency, his boots striking hard against the stone steps of the tribute tower as his broad chest rose and fell, agitated by the same mystical tide that was devouring me from within. When my eyes finally managed to focus faintly, I found myself in his private chambers. The room was vast, lit only by the crackling fire of a black stone fireplace and furnished with heavy arctic wolf pelts. Lawrence set me down on the enormous oak bed, but he did not move away. He dropped to his knees on the mattress, cornering my curvy frame with the sheer size of his broad shoulders. “Damn it, Maya… look at me,” Lawrence growled, his baritone dropping to a tone so deep

Maya's POV The darkness that buried us was instant, cold and suffocating in its weight, cutting off my breath. The roar of the mystical avalanche Chloe had unleashed died down abruptly, replaced by a thick, silent grave where the only sound was the frantic beating of my own heart. I could not move my legs; the frozen snow from the Council had compacted around us like blocks of mystical granite, blocking the air and freezing the black silk threads of my dress. Yet the cold never touched the skin of my chest. Above me, Lawrence’s massive frame formed a protective dome with his own body. His black iron armor plates creaked under the weight of tons of ice, which he held back solely by the strength of his broad back. His baritone breathing was a hot, heavy bellows that brushed my face amid the absolute gloom of the frozen den. “Are you… alive, woman?” Lawrence’s voice sounded like a dragged-out whisper, broken by the superhuman effort of preventing the ice structure from collapsing onto

Maya’s POV Hunter’s words hung in the air of the corridor like poisonous ash. Before us, the heavy oak and iron doors of the west wing began to glow with an incandescent golden hue. The runes of the Great Tribunal stretched across the frames like vines of sacred fire, sealing the exits and blocking the oxygen. The heat rose abruptly, evaporating the frost from the stones and threatening to consume us alive in the middle of the medical trap. Hunter let out a desperate laugh, but the sound died in his throat when Lawrence took one step forward. The King Lycan did not even glance at the golden glow of the doors; his gray eyes, completely clouded by the silver radiance of his inner wolf, fixed on the former Alpha of Silver Moon with such murderous resolve that it made the dungeon walls tremble. “Do you think some damn toy from the capital is going to save you from me, Hunter?” Lawrence hissed, his baritone dropping to a tone so rough and bizarrely animal that the air around us seemed to