Semua Bab Alpha's Eclipse: Bab 41 - Bab 50

LIRAThe morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as our group rode through the dense forest. Sunlight filtered through the towering trees, casting shifting shadows along the moss-covered path. The rhythm of hooves striking the dirt ground was the only sound that accompanied our travel, yet it felt like the forest itself was holding its breath, watching us, waiting.I stole a glance at my father, who rode beside me, his expression unreadable as always. His stoic demeanor was a constant presence, an unyielding force of control. Alpha Tobias, my father, had insisted on coming along, bringing ten of his own warriors to join our group. Despite his silent disapproval of my bond with Caius, he had made it clear that my safety was his priority—whether I liked it or not. The air between us was tense, yet unspoken. He had not addressed our issues directly, but his actions said everything. His gaze rarely lingered on me, his attention always focused ahead, as if determin

The captured warrior sat bound to a thick wooden post in the center of the camp, his wrists and ankles secured with silver-forged restraints. The dark night air whipped around him, but he didn’t flinch, his sharp amber eyes unwavering as he glared at the wolves surrounding him. The cold night seemed to press down on us, thick with the weight of what was to come. Caius, Tobias, Lira, and the others stood in a half-circle before him, each of us on edge, eyes fixed on the warrior. The fire crackled behind us, casting dancing shadows across the faces of those gathered.Ronan was the first to break the silence. His voice was low, tinged with that unrelenting cynicism he always carried. “You should consider yourself lucky,” he muttered. “We usually don’t keep strangers alive when they attack first.”The warrior scoffed, the sound rough, carrying the weight of experience. “And I usually don’t get captured,” he replied, his voice thick with the remnants of a hardened past.Caius stepped forw

The air was crisp as they set out before dawn, the distant mountains silhouetted against the dim glow of the fading moon. The night’s lingering chill clung to Lira’s skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind was too preoccupied with the weight of the journey ahead.They were heading into the unknown—into Valenwood, a place shrouded in secrecy for over half a century.Tobias rode beside her, his presence grounding yet heavy with unspoken thoughts. To his left, Dain remained stoic, his expression unreadable as his sharp eyes scanned their surroundings. Caius, ever the silent guardian, positioned himself protectively near Lira, while Ronan and the other warriors flanked them at a distance.As they rode, Lira found her gaze drifting to Dain. His story had lingered in her mind ever since his reveal. A man who had spent his life protecting a land few believed existed. A man who had lost everything to Malakar’s forces.She broke the silence. Lira took a deep breath, her hands tightening around

Night fell faster than expected, and the group quickly set up camp in a clearing surrounded by towering pines, their tall trunks casting long shadows in the dimming light. The campfire crackled, sending orange sparks into the air, as the wind whispered through the branches above.Lira sat by the fire, the warmth from the flames doing little to chase the cold that settled deep in her bones. Her thoughts swirled—Morgana’s magic, the prophecy, and now, Dain’s unexpected revelation about his bloodline. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together, but she felt no closer to understanding the full picture. She glanced at Dain, who stood at the edge of the camp, his back turned to the fire. He was staring into the darkness of the forest, his posture rigid, as though he was waiting for something—or someone.Unable to let the silence linger, Lira stood and moved toward him, her steps soft on the forest floor. She paused when she was close enough to speak without disturbing the quiet of

The inside of Alpha Thoren’s home was even more mesmerizing.The walls were crafted from a dark, polished wood that seemed to shimmer under the lantern light. Silver filigree markings ran along the beams, forming intricate symbols that pulsed faintly. The air carried a scent of fresh earth, herbs, and something Lira couldn’t quite place—magic.Carved stone hearths lined the hall, where fires crackled with warmth. Long tables filled the open space, with wooden benches arranged neatly, likely for gatherings or feasts.As they walked deeper into the home, the pack members moved around them with familiarity, but also reverence. Some whispered among themselves, their gazes lingering on Lira.She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.But then, something—or rather, someone—caught her attention.At the far side of the hall, seven individuals stood waiting.The witches.Three men and four women. Each with a different presence, a different aura.The oldest of them was a tall man with silver-strea