All Chapters of Howl of the unchosen: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Chapter 69: Fiona's POV The first light of dawn crept down through the trees, smooth and golden, scratching against the ruins of the camp like a tentative apology. We had survived the battle, sure, but the fight was not over. Thing is, it never quite felt like it was over, not with Orin Blackclaw still running loose out there, slipping away like smoke in the wind. His followers had scattered, but the air surrounding me still felt thick, heavy. Almost suffocating.I was standing at the edge of the camp, hands holding myself tightly so as to halt this ceaseless churn of thoughts. I looked out at the forest ahead, the endless stretch of trees becoming a dark, ominous curtain. Relief battled with anxiety in my chest. We were still standing, yes, but was that enough? It didn’t feel like winning to survive.Behind me, footsteps crunched softly on the dirt, breaking me from the storm in my head. I didn’t need to look back to know who it was. Jason. His presence was a palpable thing — steady

Chapter 71: Fiona's POVI was stood at the very edge of the Ashford's pack house —my home, the snow that extended endlessly before me, my boots sinking into it. The air snapped against my skin, and every inhalation was a white plume of vapor that simmered and sat still in the weight of the stillness. Then there was the silence, which was not peaceful: It loomed, laden, as if the entire world was holding its breath. Waiting. Watching. I could just feel — it was an intuition — like something bigger than all of us was enclosing on our lives.Jason’s shadow fell behind me, a solid immensity as unyielding as the great pines that enclosed this frozen wilderness. His warmth was a whisper, a suggestion, piercing the scalding chill around me only a little bit, but it was there — a tether to keep me from coming undone completely. And yet, as much as I wanted to lean on it, lean on him, it wouldn’t make a difference about what was to come. It wouldn’t alter what needed to be done.“Do you know

Chapter 73: Lena's POVThe wind had changed and it was blowing with a chill spread through the land. I felt the air getting heavier, the silence around us growing thicker. Jason’s hand lay light on mine, always there, reassurance. After all that had happened, after all the killing, the alliances, the betrayals — we stood here together in a quiet moment, as if the world had cropped up for the briefest of seconds. And for once, it felt right.The days blurred after Fiona left, and all those hours I’d spent waiting — praying for peace — had led up to this moment. Jason had done everything he could to shield me from the horrors that tormented us both, but there was always something just out of reach. No matter how hard he tried to protect me, the world felt like it was crushing down on both of us. But as I stood here in the warmth of evening, it all seemed different.The pathway unfolded at our feet, lit in the soft silver light of the moon, everything felt peaceful and untamed. A low hum

Chapter 75: Ethan’s POVI woke before the sun shadowed the horizon — which it always did — spilling soft golden light over the Ashford Pack territory. The trees sparkled in the dawn fog, their vast against-the-light silence a guardianship over a peace we hadn’t had in years. I stood at the packlands edge, my fingers brushing the rough bark of the nearest oak tree, looking out over the valley. Even after all that time, the sight of it still astonished me.Peace. It was a thin thing, but it had fallen over the ashes of the Amory Pack after so many storms, coated over everything like a fine dust. I exhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the cool of the dawn. There was a time not so long ago that doubt would shadow me; I’d constantly be wondering whether I was enough — or doing enough — for this pack. But now, it was a different kind of weight. A burden I had come to accept, it was the weight of leadership, yes.I was wearing the mantle of Alphaas it was meant to be worn, but I was never r

Chapter 77: Orin’s POVFreedom —It wasn’t as sweet as the chaotic vision I had dreamed it would be. It sat with me like sharp, bitter icing that stuck to my tongue, with a weight that would not go away, reminding me of everything I had lost, everything I still needed to be. The cold air burned on the strong inhale I took, stinging with every breath, sharper than I remembered. Had the world become harder, or had I just forgotten its sting after years in chains?The forest surrounding me stretched dark and infinite, its shadows twisting and curling like the remnants of my past. There was a faint promise in the damp earth beneath my feet — possibility. It was subtle, bordering on undetectable, the faint breeze of an animal in the distance. But lurking in that possibility, just sitting there in the pine-scented wind, was the recognizable taste of revenge.My roles were tense as I lifted them; the memory of iron shackles digging into my wrists wouldn’t dissolve. Those chains may have been