Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 5

POV BRIARThey say a wolf’s sense of smell never lies, "that it can track a trail days after it was left, distinguish fear from desire, loyalty from deceit, all in a single breath of air." But no teaching, "no pack law," nothing prepares you for the moment your own home — the place where you thought you were safe, where you dreamed of waking every morning — greets you with the thick, "sickening scent of betrayal."I walked beneath a downpour that seemed meant to wash the whole world clean, pressing the ivory satin box to my chest as if it were my own heart. I took care that not a single drop of water touched the edge of the lace. Inside lay my veil, "sixty hours of hand stitching, thread by thread, every pattern chosen with hope, designed for the ceremony where, just three days from now, I would become the companion, the Luna, to the future Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack." The dressmaker had finished early, "and in a foolish burst of joy, eager to share it with him," I drove back to th

POV BRIARThe climb toward Drakor’s heights was a journey wrapped in mist and untouched snow. Behind me lay the fertile, tamed valleys of Silvercrest, where I had grown up believing submission was the same as peace. Up here, the air cut like blades of solid ice, yet I barely felt the wind’s bite. Malakar’s broad back stood as an unbreachable shield against the gale tearing through the pass, and his heat — that steady, living furnace of pure lycan blood — folded around me in a warm bubble that felt as safe as it was addictive.My hands curled into the edges of his bear-lined cloak, seeking steady purchase with every jolt. Each time his great warhorse cleared a jagged crack in the rock, the King’s chest pressed firm against my shoulder blades, and a low, thrumming vibration rumbled deep within him. It was his wolf, awake, watchful, standing guard over me with a quiet possessiveness that raised gooseflesh along my skin."Stop holding your shoulders so tight," Malakar said suddenly, his w

POV BRIARThere are men who would sooner burn an entire kingdom to the ground than admit a woman walked out on them and left them looking foolish. Garrick was exactly that kind of man.The tense murmur of guards in the outer courtyard drifted softly through the north tower windows. I did not need to look outside to know who waited below. I could smell him. The stench of false courtesy and cheap Silvercrest cologne hung on the night breeze, sharp and unmistakable. For the first time in years, my senses were clear — no fog, no dullness, no poison clouding what I knew deep down. What I smelled was pathetic desperation.Malakar stood by the fireplace, fastening the leather straps of his combat bracers with a calm that sent shivers down my spine. He wore only a loose dark linen shirt, yet the heat rolling off him filled the room, steady and grounding."Stay here," he said without turning around, pulling the last buckle tight. "He is nothing but a cheap messenger. I will cut off his hands,