All Chapters of The Silver Wolf: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The Alpha King's private study had been transformed into a command center.Maps covered the desk. Guard reports were stacked in neat piles. And Aldric stood atthe center of it all, his expression carved from stone as he coordinated the search."Report," he said as another guard entered."We've searched the entire palace, Your Majesty. Every room, every corridor, everystorage closet. No sign of Lady Fiona.""The grounds?" "Also searched. The gardens, the stables, the guard barracks. Nothing."Aldric's jaw tightened. "Then they got her off the property. How?""We're checking the perimeter now, sire. Looking for any breach in the walls, any sign offorced entry or exit.""What about the servants?" Kieran asked from his position by the window. "The staff.Anyone who might have seen something.""We're questioning everyone," the guard confirmed. "But so far, no one saw anythingunusual. The entrance hall was crowded when the medical transport arrived. In thechaos, it would have been easy

Marcus had always prided himself on his competence.As Callum's beta, he was responsible for security, for strategy, for anticipating threatsbefore they materialized. He was good at his job. Excellent, even.And he'd failed spectacularly. He sat beside Siobhan in the waiting area, holding her hand, offering comfort he didn't feel. Because inside, he was screaming.Fiona was gone. Taken from the palace—from his palace, under his watch. And hehadn't seen it coming. Worse, he'd been so focused on external threats—on rogues and Covenant hunters attacking from outside—that he'd completely missed the danger within the palace walls.Vivienne.The royal beta's daughter. Someone he'd known his entire life. Someone he'd trusted.And she'd betrayed them all."I should have seen it," he muttered. Siobhan looked at him. "What?""Vivienne. I should have seen that she was involved. Should have noticed somethingwas off." "How could you have known?""It's my job to know." Marcus's voice was harsh

Isolde found Aldric in a small antechamber off the main corridor, studying a map withtwo guards. He looked up when she entered, and the expression on his face made herstop in her tracks.She'd seen her husband angry before. Frustrated. Disappointed.But she'd never seen him look at her with such cold fury.Inside her mind, Sigrid felt Grayson's rage through the bond that connected them—alpha to Luna, king to queen. The ancient wolf's fury was palpable, and Sigridunderstood it completely.He knows, Sigrid realized. Grayson knows what we did. What we allowed to happen.The she-wolf's shame deepened. Grayson—wise, powerful, protective—had acceptedFiona from the beginning. Had recognized something in her that Sigrid had been tooproud to see.We were wrong, Sigrid acknowledged to Grayson through their bond. So terribly wrong.The answering growl from Grayson was not forgiveness. It was fury and disappointmentand a demand for accountability."Leave us," Aldric said to the guards. The

The waiting room outside the surgical suite was small and uncomfortable, with harshfluorescent lighting and plastic chairs that seemed designed to maximize discomfort.Isolde found Siobhan Moonstone there, curled up in one of those chairs, her face buriedin her hands.Isolde hesitated in the doorway. She didn't belong here. These people had no reason towant her presence. But she couldn't just leave. Couldn't just walk away.She stepped into the room quietly. Siobhan's head snapped up. Her eyes were red and swollen,her face blotchy from crying. When she saw Isolde, something dark and angry flashed across her features."What are you doing here?" Siobhan's voice was raw. Hostile."I wanted to—" Isolde's voice failed. "I wanted to see if there was any news. About yourbrother.""Why?" Siobhan stood, her hands clenched into fists. "Why do you care? You didn't careabout my sister. Why would you care about my brother? I want to know why the Luna Queensuddenly cares about my family when

Somewhere between a dream and a nightmare, Callum’s eyes flickered open in the palace clinic. The world pressed down on him—weighty, muffled, as if he were underwater. The memory of chaos lingered at the edge of his mind: raised voices, the tang of blood, then nothing but a great black void. He struggled to orient himself, heart pounding, every muscle tense with an instinct that something was terribly wrong.The world was a haze at first—shapes and colors bleeding at the edges of his vision, refusing to resolve. Each blink made his head throb, a dull ache behind his eyes growing sharper with every swallow. There was a bitter metallic taste in his mouth, and the faint, acrid scent of antiseptic stung his nose. With effort,things sharpened. Above him, harsh white ceiling tiles glared down, broken only by the angular shadow of a hanging lamp. The steady beep of monitors punctuated the silence, a cold, clinical rhythm that seemed out-of-place in the surreal stillness. The sharp, sterile