Todos os capítulos de Rejected For My Curves. Desired By The War Alpha : Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

Pell did not wait for a full hunt party.“The trail is fresh,” he said. “One person. Light. Kade boots. I know the wear on that heel.”Asher looked at him. “A name.”“Not yet. I know the print. Supply runner. He has been in and out of this camp since the first alliance talks. People trust him because he carries grain and does not talk much.”Wren’s mouth went tight. “Loyal since Act 2. That is what we called it.”“That is what he wanted us to call it,” Sable said. “Show me the drain.”We took a fast walk to the east garden wall. The smell was still there if you knew the wrap. Old dust. Cold stone. A thin scrape of cloth.The tracks led to the outer drain and did not try to hide.He was there.On his knees in the wet cut, empty hands up, as he had already decided running would make it worse.Ronan had a blade out anyway. “Do not move.”The man swallowed. I knew his face. He had brought winter stores through the south gate more than once. He had nodded at me in the yard and kept his eye

No one picked the tokens up at first.They just sat on the ridge stone and looked like proof.Cal turned one over again. “This is not a lost mark. You do not drop your pack token unless you want it found.”Ryn spat to the side. “Or unless you are already dead.”Pell shook his head. “No blood. No drag. They walked away on their own feet. They left these so we would read them.”Sable stared east, then back the way we had come. “If the northern line is sold, the camp’s east supply is sold with it. That is the road the grain takes. That is the road the extra blades take. Asher is holding walls with people who may already have kin on this path.”Ronan crouched and touched the dirt beyond the tokens. “The prints keep going. Mixed. Clean unit and northern boots. Same direction as us.”My marked arm gave a small pull. Not hot. Just there. Like it knew the source was still waiting.Sable stood. “We turn back. Asher needs this before night. If the east line is bought, the camp is open from the

We stayed on our stomachs until the light pulsed again.Same thin thread. Same wrong beat. It did not need a full column to be real.Sable spoke first, almost no sound. “Count.”Pell’s eyes moved along the far rim. “Eight on the bowl. Four close to the scar. Two in the low scrub. Northern marks mixed in. They are not hiding.”Ronan’s shoulder was tight against mine. “They are not hiding because they do not need to. They already started it.”The cut on my arm burned in time with the thread. Not a pull now. A match. One beat in the scar. One beat in my skin.“That is my blood,” I said. “Not the wrap. Scrap and the tag. They lit it without the original piece.”Sable’s jaw flexed. “Garrick said they might copy it from you. He also said the stone still mattered.”“He was right and wrong,” I said. “They do not need the wrap in the scar. They need me within range. That is why the south test screamed. That is why this burns now.”Pell glanced at my bandage. A dark line had seeped through the

“No more stones,” I said.Sable already had her hands off the next one. “I see it. We fed it. We stop.”The light in the scar stayed thick and cold. It sat in the cut like a live wire laid in dirt. Each pulse threw a pale wash over the bowl. The dirt went bone-colored, then brown again. The hum ran through my teeth and into the bone behind my ears.My arm burned with the same beat. Under the bandage, the mark felt wet and tight, like the skin had shrunk around a second pulse.Pell lost another arrow at the back rise and dropped behind a cracked block. The block still had a faint glow in its broken cuts, leftover from when we fed the scar. “The heavy line is still coming. If we stay here they pin us to the bowl.”Ronan looked along the rim, not down the open path. The lane they had cleared was still empty and bright. “Then we changed jobs. We do not break the ring. We take the scrap out of the cut.”Sable nodded once. Sweat cut a clean line through the dust on her face. “You two on the

No one moved first.The man from the scar did not need to. He already stood in the bowl like the ground knew him. The sour light sat at his back and did not touch his skin.Sable’s voice came from the rise, low. “What are you?”He tipped his head, curious, as if the question pleased him. “I have a lot of names. Warden is the one that lasts. The rest were only mouths.”Pell kept an arrow on him and did not lose it. “He does not smell like a wolf.”“I am not one,” the man said. Simple. Mild. “I have worn wolves. I have worn better things and worse things. A mouth is a mouth. When one wears out, I take another.”Ronan shifted so I was not the closest body to him. The cloak with the seed stayed in his hands, off my skin.“Stay on the edge,” he said to me.“I am.”“If he talks you toward the cut, you do not take a step. You talk back from here.”“I hear you.”The Warden looked at my bandaged arm the way a person looks at a page they have already started writing on. The dark curve under the