All Chapters of TOO LATE TO CLAIM ME,ALPHA: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Elder Orion summons me to the subterranean library beneath the Ashford Packhouse, where he reveals an ancient scroll detailing my forgotten, royal lineage.The scent of dust and ancient beeswax hits me long before I reach the bottom of the spiral stone staircase. It’s a dry, heavy air, thick with the weight of centuries, completely isolated from the fresh mountain breeze blowing through the upper levels of the Ashford Packhouse. Every step I take echoes against the cold, damp rock walls, sending quiet vibrations down into the dark.Elder Orion called for me just as the sun began to dip below the tree line. After weeks of surviving Lady Camille's relentless social games and helping Rowan clear out the supply blockades near the border villages, I thought I was ready for whatever challenge came next. But this summons feels different. It wasn't delivered by a formal runner or announced in the main hall. Orion had simply leaned in during supper, his old, cloudy eyes fixed on mine, and whis

Aurora uncovers the dark truth behind her father's loss of status, realizing her family was systematically stripped of power to hide her ancient royal bloodline.The air inside the lower archives of the Ashford estate is cool and damp, smelling heavily of aged parchment, candle wax, and forgotten truths. Dust motes float lazily through the thin shafts of pale sunlight filtering down from the high, narrow windows. Up above, the pack prepares for the brutal Trial of the Moon Crimson, but down here in the dark, a completely different kind of battle is taking place.I sit at the long, scarred oak table, surrounded by stacks of ancient, yellowed ledger books and faded family trees. For hours, my fingers have traced the cracked ink of old record logs, comparing dates, titles, and land grants from the Crescent Moon Pack’s earlier history. The deeper I dig, the clearer the picture becomes, each document laying down another piece of a dark, calculated mosaic.My entire life, I believed my fath

Aurora learns that Kael was manipulated by his father to keep her lineage hidden, realizing Kael was a willing tool in his own father's cold schemes.The air in Marcus's private quarters smells faintly of dried lavender and old leather, a sharp contrast to the damp, metallic scent of the shifting caverns we returned from just hours ago. The glowing silver crescent rune on the side of my neck still hums with a low, rhythmic warmth, a physical reminder that my life will never be quiet again.I stand by the frost-rimmed window, looking out over the quiet courtyard of the Ashford estate. Down below, guards patrolled the perimeter with heightened vigilance. The news of what happened during the Trial of the Moon Crimson is already spreading like wildfire through the pack house. Camille and Elder Thomas had tried to bury me in those dark tunnels, sabotaging my climbing ropes and sealing the lower descent, but their trap only forced my true mark to wake.Marcus, Rowan's most trusted tracker a

Kael confronts the Alpha King in a quiet, dangerous rage after realizing his father manipulated him into rejecting Aurora, while the King remains entirely unmoved by his son's torment.The grand throne room of the Crescent Moon Pack is cold, built from massive gray stone that traps the winter air. Tall arched windows stretch toward the vaulted ceiling, casting long, pale shadows across the polished floor. It is a room designed to make men feel small, to force submission before a single word is ever spoken.Kael marches past the heavy iron doors, his heavy leather boots striking the stone with flat, echoey thuds. His heart pounds against his ribs, hot and wild, like a caged beast slamming its body against iron bars. Every breath he takes tastes like dust and old regret.At the far end of the hall, resting on a raised stone dais, sits the Alpha King. He looks entirely relaxed, one heavy arm resting on the carved armrest, his silvering hair slicked back without a single strand out of pla

Orion translates an ancient scroll revealing Aurora's true destiny as the Silver Queen, leaving her overwhelmed by the unexpected responsibility.The deep chambers beneath the Ashford pack house always retain a persistent, damp chill. Stone walls, black with age and slick with moisture, press in close around us. Old parchment smells like dust, pressed flowers, and dried blood.Orion spreads the fragile vellum across the heavy oak table. His weathered hands move with delicate, practiced care. The parchment crackles under his touch, threatening to turn to dust after centuries of darkness. Sunlight filters through the narrow high window, cutting through the shadows and illuminating tiny specks of dancing dust.Rowan stands right behind me, his solid chest a warm wall against my back. His broad hands rest lightly on the edge of the wooden table, framing my shoulders. That constant, grounding warmth is the only thing keeping my nerves steady."The script is written in the Old Tongue," Orio