บททั้งหมดของ TOO LATE TO CLAIM ME,ALPHA: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Selena complains to her father about Kael's distance, unaware that their political alliance is already rotting from within while Aurora begins navigating her new life.The private sitting room in the Crescent Moon Pack manor always smells like stale wine and polished leather. It is a room built for cold transactions, far removed from the dirt and sweat of the warriors training outside. Sunlight filters through the high stained-glass windows, casting sharp blood-red shadows across the floorboards.Selena Frost paces the length of the silk rug like a caged predator. Her silk gown rustles loudly against the quiet room, a sharp contrast to her furious movements. She turns on her heel, her face twisted in angry frustration as she glares at the man sitting behind the massive mahogany desk."He is distant, Father," she complains, her claws digging into the velvet upholstery of her chair until the threads begin to pop. "He barely looks at me. We sit at the same table, we walk through the cour

Kael wanders his quiet palace, confronting the suffocating reality of his life with Selena while a forgotten sketch of the mountains pulls him into a wave of regret over Aurora.The silence of the northern wing used to be peaceful. Now, it just feels heavy, like cold water settling into my bones.Every corner of the palace seems to hold a memory of Aurora’s quiet, gentle presence. I walk down the dimly lit hallway, my boots scraping against the polished stone, but my ears keep listening for something that isn't there. No soft steps. No quiet hum of a song she used to sing when she thought nobody was listening. Just the hollow echo of my own breath.I open the door to my private study, pushing back the heavy mahogany frame. The room smells of stale ink, leather, and old parchment. It feels cold. Everything in this pack house feels cold lately, no matter how high the servants pile the logs in the hearth.I step toward the grand desk near the window, intending to review the border patrol

Aurora leads delicate trade negotiations with a guarded neutral village, using calm diplomacy rather than Alpha dominance to secure a vital alliance for the Ashford Pack despite Lady Camille’s quiet sabotage.The wooden palisade surrounding the Pine Ridge village looks more like a fortress than a trading hub. Mud clings to the hem of my travel cloak as Rowan and I halt our horses at the perimeter line. The air smells sharply of pine resin, damp soil, and the unmistakable metallic tang of distrust.We arrive at the neutral pack’s village, the atmosphere tense and suspicious.Their scouts line the wooden watchtowers, bowstrings pulled taut. They don't see an Alpha coming to trade; they see a powerful pack capable of swallowing them whole. Beside me, Rowan sits tall in his saddle, his broad shoulders relaxed, yet his golden eyes remain sharp, scanning the shadows. Lady Camille rides a few paces behind us, her mouth twisted in a faint, contemptuous sneer. She had made her opinion clear du

Aurora and Alpha Rowan walk through the moonlit gardens after a feast, sharing a tender moment of mutual respect and quiet, growing affection as Camille's petty schemes fall flat.The laughter and noise of the great hall fade behind us as the carved oak doors click shut. Inside, the feast is still in full swing. Silver goblets are filled, meat roasts over open hearths, and the higher-ranking she-wolves sit under the glittering sconces, exchanging quiet, sharp glances. Lady Camille had tried her best tonight, spending the entire evening making passive-aggressive remarks about my plain dress and my lack of high-pack noble lineage. She thought a series of snide comments and a subtle trip near the serving tables would make me cower or shatter my composure.She was wrong. I stood my ground, answered her insults with calm, razor-sharp grace, and handled the formal greetings like a true leader.Now, the cool night air hits my warm skin, instantly washing away the suffocating tension of the b

Aurora reaches her ultimate emotional turning point at the edge of the river, shedding her past trauma and embracing her inner strength right before Lady Camille's sabotage scheme collapses.The early morning air near the boundary river is cool and crisp, carrying the sharp scent of wet pine needles and crushed moss. Sunlight filters through the dense canopy of the Ashford territory, casting dapples of pale gold across the water's surface.I walk down to the bank, my boots pressing quietly into the damp soil. For weeks, Lady Camille has made it her personal mission to dismantle me. She has whispered venomous rumors in the training courtyard, orchestrated petty social embarrassments during evening feasts, and ensured every high-ranking she-wolf viewed me as nothing more than a fragile, useless runaway. She wanted me isolated. She wanted me to break under the weight of her quiet, relentless cruelty.I stop at the water's edge and kneel beside a smooth, moss-covered stone.I look at my r