Todos os capítulos de Chained To The Alpha: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

The creature takes a step forward and the whole clearing seems to lean away from it at once, Ashveil wolves long gone into the dark, Red Fang warriors holding their ground only because Kael hasn't given the order to run, and some part of me thinks that's the only reason any of us are still standing here at all. Nobody wants to be the one who breaks first in front of him."Tell her," the creature says again, softer this time, almost gentle, which is somehow worse than the growl. "Or I will, and I promise you, Alpha, I remember it far more clearly than you do. I was there. You weren't even born yet.""Enough," Kael snarls, but there's no weight behind it. It comes out cracked, a King's command with the King himself not believing it'll work."Twenty six years ago," the creature says, ignoring him completely, red eyes fixed on me now like Kael isn't even in the clearing, "your father's father found his fated mate. An Ember Wolf. Our pack. Do you know what a bond between two packs does whe

We push the horses hard through the last stretch of trees, branches tearing at my arms, and the smell of smoke gets thicker with every stride until it's not a smell anymore, it's a taste, bitter and hot at the back of my throat. Reyna doesn't slow down to check the terrain. None of us do. The orange glow ahead has gone from a flicker to a wall of light climbing up over the treetops, and every instinct I have is screaming that whatever's burning, it's burning fast.We break through the tree line into chaos.It's not Ashveil's main camp, not the kind of fortified stronghold I was bracing myself for. It's smaller, a cluster of low wooden buildings and canvas tents arranged around a central fire pit that has clearly gotten very, very out of control. Half the structures are already fully engulfed. Wolves are running in every direction, some shifted, some not, dragging supplies out of tents, throwing buckets of water that do nothing against flames that size. Nobody's fighting. Nobody's even

We don't wait for orders. Reyna kicks her horse into a full gallop down the ridge and the rest of us follow, hooves tearing up the wet grass, and I don't even remember drawing Kael's mother's dagger again but it's already in my hand by the time we hit the flat ground leading up to the gates.Up close, the wrongness is worse. The gates aren't broken like they were the night of the Shadow Claw raid. They're just open, quiet, almost polite about it, like whoever came through didn't need to force anything at all. That's not how an attack looks. That's how a betrayal looks."Where are the watchmen," Sila says from behind Vane, her voice small.Nobody answers her. We don't know yet, and none of us want to say out loud what we're all thinking.We ride through the gates into the courtyard, and it's empty. Not empty like the mill was empty, stripped and abandoned. Empty like a held breath. The stones are stained dark in patches I don't want to look at too closely, and the smoke I saw from the

Kael doesn't move for a long time. He just stares at the painted chain wrapped around his mother's wrist, at the way the artist took care to show the skin beneath it raw and red, like whoever painted this wanted the truth preserved even if nobody was ever supposed to see it again."Chains aren't a fever symptom," I say quietly."No," Kael says. "They're not."He crosses the room slowly, dust rising in soft clouds around his boots, and crouches in front of the portrait like he's afraid getting too close too fast will make it disappear. Up close, I can see what I missed from the doorway—a small brass plate fixed to the bottom of the frame, tarnished nearly black, with an inscription worn thin by time.Kael brushes his thumb across it, clearing away enough grime to read."Mira Draven," he reads aloud, his voice unsteady. "Beloved. Bonded. Buried too soon to know she was ever free."Nobody says anything. For a moment, the room is completely still."Buried too soon to know she was ever fre

"No," I say before he's even finished the sentence."Lyra—""You just spent the entire night telling me you're done being who your father raised you to be," I say. "And the first real test of that is you walking into an obvious trap alone because some part of you still believes the people who love you are safer standing somewhere else."Kael's jaw tightens."This isn't about love. This is about a note that specifically says *the Draven boy*. Singular. If I bring wolves, if I bring you, I don't know what that invitation turns into.""You don't know what it turns into either way," I say. "That's the whole point of a trap."Vane, still holding the folded map, glances between us."For what it's worth," he says carefully, "I agree with her. Whatever's waiting north of Shadow Claw territory, it's had twenty-six years to plan for exactly one version of tonight—the one where the Draven Alpha shows up angry, alone, and half out of his mind with grief."He looks directly at Kael."Don't give th