บททั้งหมดของ Ghost In The Pack: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

Draven’s POV The tension in the room had eased, but it hadn’t disappeared. It was still there. It was hanging in the space between everyone. It was buried beneath the quiet hum of computers and the occasional crackle of a radio. The battle was over. Bernard’s men had retreated. Our people were safe. Yet nobody seemed ready to walk away. But I understood why. Darren had made his joke about listening to the scary little hacker girl, Byron had seconded it, and even Nico had admitted he wasn’t about to argue with whatever had told Elena where Bernard’s men were hiding. That should have been enough to break the tension. It wasn’t. Because now everyone in the room was looking at Elena. She seemed to feel it. She shifted slightly beside me, her eyes moving from one person to the next before settling on the laptop in front of her. Her fingers rested against the edge of the keyboard, but she didn’t type. I knew that look. She was trying to figure out what she had just done. The problem wa

Theron’s POV The house had been quiet for so long that I’d forgotten what it felt like to have anyone else around. I didn’t mind the silence though. After enough years, silence became its own kind of company. I sat in my old wooden chair near the fireplace with a book resting open across my lap, though I hadn’t turned a page in several minutes. The fire had burned low, leaving only a handful of glowing embers beneath the logs. Outside, the night had settled over the forest surrounding my home. This place had become my refuge. Or perhaps hiding place was the more honest word. I had lived here alone for longer than most Fae could imagine. I had learned how to hunt, grow what I needed, repair my own roof, and tolerate the terrible taste of the food I occasionally convinced myself was worth buying from the village several miles away. I had also learned how to wait. Waiting had been the easiest part. Finding out whether the thing I had been waiting for would ever happen had been much

Elena’s POV The house had gone unusually quiet by the time evening settled over the pack. After everything that had happened, I should have been exhausted. Instead, I found myself sitting on the couch beside Draven with my hands wrapped around a mug I hadn’t touched in nearly twenty minutes. My thoughts kept circling the same things. Ancient Fae. My parents. The royal family. The seal. Darwin. And the fact that somewhere in the middle of all of that was a little girl I had been once. Me. Three years old. I couldn’t remember her. That was the part I couldn’t get past. I could remember things from my life before Draven. Pieces of foster homes, school, computers, late nights, becoming Ghost, learning how to survive without depending on anyone. Those memories belonged to me. But when I tried to picture myself as a three-year-old child, there was nothing. Just an empty space where an entire life should have been. Theron sat across from us in one of the armchairs, his hands resting lo

Draven’s POV Elena stood there with the pendant resting in her hand. I looked at the small piece of metal she had just pulled from the box, then back at her. The markings along its surface caught the light, but there was something about the way Elena was staring at it that made my attention stay on her instead. She looked confused. Maybe even a little curious. Almost as if some part of her recognized what she was holding even though her mind didn’t. Fanny watched her closely, her expression filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “Your parents entrusted that to me,” she said quietly. “They told me to give it to you when your powers awakened.” Elena’s fingers tightened slightly around the pendant. “They knew this would happen?” Fanny nodded her head once. “After the first part of the attack,” she paused and took a deep breath. She shook her head, her eyes becoming glassy. “They were hurt. They prepared for the possibility.” Elena looked down at the pendant again. I stayed

Elena’s POV I didn’t like the tone of Draven’s voice. Draven could handle just about anything. That wasn’t the problem. It was the way he’d said it. His voice had carried that calmness he used when something was wrong and he didn’t want me worrying about it. Which, of course, guaranteed I was going to worry about it. I sat there for a few seconds after he left, staring at the door. Something was happening downstairs. I could feel it. I pushed the blankets away and climbed out of bed. I didn’t bother taking the time to make myself presentable. I grabbed the first clothes I could find, slipped them on, shoved my feet into a pair of shoes, and headed for the window. At first, I saw nothing. The territory looked almost peaceful from up here. Morning light stretched across the trees, painting the tops of them gold. The grounds were quiet compared to the chaos of yesterday. Then I noticed the gates. There was a group standing outside them. A large group. I moved closer to the wi