Semua Bab No Longer Yours:Pregnant and Divorced by the Regretful Alpha: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Crossbow bolts hissed through the thick smoke like iron rain, splintering against the shallow stone overhang where Christopher and 30 surviving Blackwood warriors huddledBlood slicked the gravel floor, beside Christopher, Beta Marcus groaned in pain, his face deathly pale as blood pooled around the dark wolfsbane bolts lodged deep in his shoulder."Hold the shield wall!" Christopher roared, his voice raw and blood-flecked he slammed his broadsword against an incoming broadaxe, parrying the heavy blow and driving his knee into an enemy shock trooper's chest. "Do not let them break the center!"Ten armored shock troopers rappelled down ropes from the high cliff ledges, landing with heavy thuds directly inside their defensive perimeter. From forty feet above, Rihanna laughed a sharp, shrill sound that cut through the clash of steel."Look at him!" Rihanna mocked, leaning over the cliff edge alongside the towering, cloaked leader. "The great Alpha of Blackwood, hiding in a ditch like a

The dark falcon flew through the freezing storm, its strong wings cutting through rain and mist as it flew straight toward the dim lights of the Blackwood Packhouse.Inside the quiet lower study, Dennis sat near a crackling stone hearth. He looked exhausted, his face pale and lined with deep worry after the horror in the pass, Across the room, Elder Vance paced back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back.In the corner sat Christopher.He was stripped to his waist, heavy white bandages wrapped tight around his chest and shoulders. He stared blankly at a glass of dark amber liquor in his hand, his mind replaying the humiliation in the gorge over and over. Damian had saved his men. Sarah had ordered the rescue. The shame ate at his soul like poison.TAP! TAP! TAP!A sharp peck against the tall glass window made Dennis turn his head.A messenger falcon perched on the wet stone ledge, its dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. Bound tightly to its leg was a small, waterproof leather c

The air in the stone dungeon beneath Frost Ridge Fortress was cold and smelled of wet iron. Torchfire flickered against the damp walls, casting long, dark shadows over the heavy iron cell..In the center of the cell, the captured assassin was chained to a thick stone pillar. Heavy iron cuffs locked his wrists and ankles, and a metal brace held his broken jaw so he couldn't bite down on any poison pills..Damian stood right in front of him. His left shoulder was wrapped in tight white bandages, blood slowly seeping through the cloth, but his posture was straight as a sword. Beside him, Sarah looked at the prisoner with quiet, sharp eyes.Captain Logan stepped into the cell, holding a wooden tray filled with the assassin's gear."We stripped his armor," Logan said, his voice flat. "No personal itemz or tags, but we found this hidden in the double lining of his leather boot."Logan picked up a heavy piece of black metal and handed it to Damian.It was an iron token, shaped like a shield.

Christopher stood in the center of the devastation, his breath coming in ragged, painful hitches, his white bandages were soaked crimson from the force of the falling stone he had dove into he refused to sit or lean on his father, Dennis, even though his knees were shaking. His pride making him not to give inDamian stood a few paces away, his sword still drawn, his eyes darting across the dark shadows of the broken gatehouse. He ignored Christopher completely, his focus entirely on his men."Logan!" Damian’s voice snapped like a whip. "Get the wounded inside the Great Hall double the guards on the internal corridors. I want no one moving through these halls without a personal escort."Christopher’s head whipped around, his blue eyes flashing with fresh, hot anger. "My men are not your prisoners, Ashford. We move our own wounded to the infirmary.""Your men are bleeding out on my stone floor, Blackwood," Damian retorted, his voice chillingly calm. He didn't even turn his head to look

The morning sun broke through thick gray storm clouds, painting the ruined courtyard of Frost Ridge Fortress in pale, watery light. Black smoke still drifted lazily from the scorched roof of the Great Hall.Inside her private chamber, Sarah stood before a small washbasin, buttoning a heavy leather riding vest over her dark wool dress. Her fingers brushed against her lower abdomen, It was slightly firm now a subtle, soft curve that was becoming harder to hide beneath her clothes.Suddenly, a sharp wave of morning sickness hit her throat. Sarah gripped the edge of the wooden basin, closing her eyes and breathing slowly through her nose until the dizziness passed.Four months. She had kept this secret through the divorce, the fire, and the bloody battles. In a world of war and Alphas fighting for control, this unborn child was her only true priority.She smoothed down her thick vest, hiding any trace of her condition before opening the heavy oak door.Down in the courtyard, Damian was ra