img The Lycan Alpha's Forgotten Mate  /  Chapter 6 No.6 | 3.61%
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Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 1197    |    Released on: 27/01/2026

is

spaceship against the backdrop of peeling paint and sagging porches. I waited until the taill

na

as holding and rushed to embrace me. She smelled of c

inspect me, her brow furrowed with worry. "I hea

felt like glass shattering in my mouth. "I... I

g away the fear. "Oh, honey. Tha

she knew I was walking back into the lio

ed, the hum of her voice. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't tell her that I was the Alpha's unwa

row bed, watching the sky turn

s t

leave now to make it back to the estate by sunrise. I

was sligh

spered, push

ted to the gloom. It was a smell I knew from th

t in bed. She w

om

cky. I shook her shoulders, desperate for her to wake up, bu

a raw, animalistic sound that

itr

unes and the weight of secrets. I sat behind his massive maho

hment hummed with the Moon Goddess's energy, binding my

h

n a visionary, a Lycan of immense power. He wouldn't hav

time why she is the on

om what? And how could a girl who smelled like ra

can, Ragnar, grumbled

I couldn't deny the way my blood heate

The sky was lightening. The sun was crowning the dista

nr

minute. Five

asn't

ttle mouse had found a spine, or perhaps she was simply foo

ared, pacing in the cag

tal voice projecting with the

Beta's voice

quad. Go to the Omega Sec

n

ing, scratching deep grooves into the windowsill

d through the link, but the confidence was

d her. But we can

't?" I snarled, my patien

The human police arrest

e. "Ex

er her mother's body. Amber Moreno was murder

ted on its ax

ger! Ragnar was frantic now,

about the human police. What I cared about was

nded, my voice droppin

micide investigat

king the link. "She belongs to the Pack. She belongs to me. Call the Mayor.

double doors of my

er clothes were stained with dried blood that wasn't hers.

es I remembered, but a sharp, acrid mix of

. She just stood there, a

custody," Davon said quietly. "B

lick the blood from her skin, to comfort her. But I d

er chin up with a finger

?" I asked, m

e grime on her cheek. "I don't know," she whispered, her vo

d ever felt, coiled in my gut. This wasn't a random attack. Rogu

t Davon ov

r trackers. I want to know who murdered her m

torment, mine to reject, mine to break. And n

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