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Chapter Ninety
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The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety one
Draven strode silently beside Nathan, his powerful frame barely making a sound as he moved. His face was a mask of stoicism, his dark eyes reflecting the coolness of the night, but beneath the surface lurked an undercurrent of tension, a simmering agitation that spoke of a battle fought within his soul.Nathan, a jovial man with a mischievous glint in his amber eyes, deliberately slowed his pace, allowing a comfortable distance to develop between them. His laughter, a low rumble that resonated through the night, broke the silence. "So, my friend, what brings the great Alpha Draven to the humble territory of the Midnight Pack?" He asked, his tone laced with a teasing edge.Draven remained silent, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, the forest floor lit dimly by the moonlight. He was acutely aware of Nathan's amusement, the subtle mocking undertone in his voice. He knew the man was enjoying his discomfort, the turmoil that swirled within him."Word on the wind," Nathan continued, his voic
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety two
The scent of blood still clung to the air in the Moon Shadow pack"s council chamber, a faint, metallic tang that mingled with the musky odor of wolf and the damp earth of the approaching spring. Zoe, her shair pulled back from her face, sat at the head of the long oak table, the polished surface reflecting the flickering flames of the hearth. Her eyes, the same shade of midnight blue as the moonless night, scanned the faces of the council, her gaze lingering on each member, assessing their reactions to her words.She had become Luna by the most brutal of means, the murder of Alpha Landon, her own husband. The council had been complicit in his death, their silence a tacit agreement to her ascension. Zoe had ensured their cooperation, a well-placed threat here, a whispered promise there, twisting their fear into loyalty.The council members, their faces etched with worry and a hint of reluctant awe, sat rigidly in their chairs. There was a vacancy at the far end of the table, where Beta
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety three
"Silas." the lone figure spoke, his voice a raspy whisper. He turned, revealing the face of Den, a burly wolf with eyes that gleamed with a predatory hunger.Silas, his face obscured by shadow, pulled back the hood, his face pale and gaunt. His eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by dark circles that spoke of sleepless nights and a mind consumed by worry."Den." Silas rasped, his voice a strained whisper. "You shouldn"t be here. It"s too risky.""You know I"m no stranger to a little risk." Den replied, his tone laced with a hint of smugness. "And you, my friend, you"ve been hiding for far too long."Silas shifted his weight uneasily. "I am cautious." he said, his voice barely a murmur. "These are dangerous times.""Cautious? Silas, we are all cautious. Zoe has us all living in fear. She rules with an iron fist, and her grip tightens with every passing day."Den"s words ignited a flicker of anger in Silas"s eyes. He had seen firsthand the consequences of Zoe"s reign. Whispers of rebellion
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety four
Zoe Madison, her face a mask of icy composure, held court at the head of the long, mahogany table, the polished silver of the council’s insignia gleaming beneath the flickering candlelight. The council, a group of senior wolves whose clothes was laced with silver and whose eyes held the wisdom of countless moons, sat facing her, their expressions a mixture of suspicion and apprehension.Zoe, clad in black velvet that shimmered with an almost predatory glint, met their gazes head-on, her crimson eyes burning with a cold, calculating fire. Her claws, meticulously manicured, tapped a rhythmic beat against the polished surface of the table, the sound echoing in the hushed room like a drumbeat of war.“The time has come.” she began, her voice a silken whisper that held an undercurrent of steel, “for us to address the elephant in the room. Alpha Draven.”The council members shifted uneasily in their seats, their expressions turning wary. The name Draven, once spoken with respect and fear, n
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety five
The weight of the world, or at least of his pack, pressed upon Draven"s heart like a leaden fist. He sat in the dimly lit confines of the Midnight Pack"s gathering room, the scent of pine and damp earth heavy in the air. The warmth of the crackling fire in the hearth did little to soothe the icy chill that permeated his being. He had retreated to this temporary haven, this borrowed haven, along with his pregnant mate Jessica, her loyal friend Vicky, and his own Beta, Asher. Even Tom Madison, the former Moon Shadow warrior who had pledged allegiance to Draven, sat amongst them, his presence a reminder of the tumultuous times.He yearned for the familiar scent of his own pack, the Blood Moon Pack, the scent of home. But that home was now ruled by Mateo, his former closest friend, the wolf who had betrayed his trust and usurped his leadership. Draven felt a bitter pang of shame and helplessness, his normally steely resolve fractured. How could he, the mighty Alpha, the one who had sworn
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety Six
The night was a canvas of inky black, punctuated only by the occasional flicker of lightning in the distance. The rain had just ceased, leaving behind a damp chill that clung to the air like a shroud. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the storm to return, or perhaps for something more sinister. A figure draped in black robes, the hood pulled low, emerged from the shadows with their movements as silent as the night itself. Each step was measured, each rustle of the robe a calculated whisper against the damp earth. The figure paused before a dilapidated barn, its wooden doors creaking on their rusty hinges, a testament to years of neglect. The figure cast a wary glance around, eyes searching for any flicker of movement in the darkness, any sign of a shadow that didn"t belong. Satisfied that they were alone, the figure pushed open the door, the hinges groaning in protest. The barn interior was a cave of darkness, the only light coming from a single, flickering oil lamp hu
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety seven
Draven, the exiled Alpha of the Shadow Pack, sat hunched in a worn armchair, his gaze fixed on the flames, but his mind a thousand miles away. He had been adrift, lost in the storm of his own despair, ever since Mateo, his former ally, had betrayed him and seized control of his pack. But something had shifted within him, a subtle yet powerful change.The weight of defeat, the crushing sense of doom, was slowly lifting. The spark of defiance, a whisper of hope, had rekindled in his heart. He was no longer the broken, defeated wolf he had been. He was Draven, Alpha of the Shadow Pack, and he would reclaim what was rightfully his.Jessica, his mate, sat beside him, her hand resting reassuringly on his arm. Her presence, a steady beacon in the darkness, fueled his resolve. She had been his rock, his unwavering support, even in the darkest hours. He looked at her, her golden hair catching the firelight, and a wave of love crashed over him. He would do this, not just for himself, but for he
The Alpha's Wolfless Mate Chapter Ninety eight
The air in the Pack House was thick with tension, a tangible force pressing down on the assembled pack members. The scent of fear and betrayal hung heavy, a chilling counterpoint to the roaring fire that blazed in the hearth, its flames casting flickering shadows across the faces gathered around the long oak table. At the head of the table sat Mateo, his eyes like chips of obsidian, his jaw clenched in a tight line. His posture was rigid, back straight, hands clenched into fists on the polished tabletop. The leather of his gloves, usually a symbol of power and authority, seemed to constrict him now, like a suffocating cage. His hair, usually meticulously styled, was now ruffled, strands falling over his furrowed brow, revealing a flicker of vulnerability he rarely showed.Around him sat the members of his cabinet, their faces a study in varying degrees of anxiety. Some, like the hulking figure of Silas, a muscle-bound warrior with a perpetual furrow in his brow, seemed to be bracing
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