All Chapters of Claimed by the Seven Alphas: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The shadowless lamp in the medical bay was lit. The injection had been administered in the darkest hour before dawn. Twenty minutes had passed. Elias stood beside the examination table. His medical kit was open. The pale amber serum had long since been delivered into Luna's nape. When he withdrew the needle, her shoulder blades had tightened for a brief instant. The transient cold response of the serum diffusing through her gland. Cain stood outside the door. He had not entered. But the door was not closed. Cedarwood pheromones seeped through the gap. Steady and even. Blanketing the iodine scent of the medical bay in a faint, cold sharpness. Luna sat on the examination table. Her legs dangled. Her hands were braced on her knees. Her temperature had dropped from thirty-eight-point-five to thirty-seven-point-eight. The g

Fifteen minutes stretched long in the fever of heat. Luna sat on the edge of the bed. Bare feet on the stone floor. Hands resting on her knees. The new mark on her nape still throbbed. Cedarwood and gunpowder seeped from the bite into her bloodstream. Trickling down her cervical spine. Pooling between her shoulder blades. Her temperature had not dropped. Cain's mark had completed the conversion of the temporary bond. But the heat itself was not over. Her gland was still secreting pheromones. The concentration of lily of the valley was slightly lower than before the mark. But still sufficient to accelerate the pulse of every Alpha in the corridor. Elias pushed the door open. He closed it gently behind him. Dawn light leaked through the gap in the curtains. It carved a razor-thin line of gold across the stone floor. The

The assassins crept in at midnight on the third day. Marcus would not send suicide soldiers to scale walls. These were remnants from the northern border. Old followers driven out after the Three Lords fell. Hiding at the edge of the Northern Ice Plains all winter. Surviving by raiding border caravans. They did not know of Marcus's existence. They did not know the history of the First One's sealing. They did not know that the Mother of All Wolves' gland now held the formal marks of three Alphas. They knew only that the woman who had sent their masters to the gallows lived in this estate. Seven of them. Three Alphas. Four Betas. Their equipment was worn. But their weapons were well-maintained. They infiltrated through the northern pine forest. Skirting the estate's outer patrol routes. Their boot soles wrapped in tar-soa

The letter was handed to Luna during the morning session of the Council. The envelope was written in Old Formula Ink. The recipient line bore only the title: *Mother of All Wolves*. No sender. No wax seal. A single thin sheet inside. An address. Third stone house, back alley of the laundry quarter. The old Omega's dwelling. Two lines of postscript. The handwriting matched the seventh petition, stroke for stroke. *Five hundred years. When your grandmother knelt before me and knocked her head to the floor, I did not touch her people. Now it is your turn.* Luna finished the letter. Looked up. The nobles in the Council chamber were still murmuring among themselves. No one

It was already past midnight when they emerged from the war room. The wall lamps in the corridor had burned down to their shortest wicks. The ochre light shrank into a single bead the size of a fingernail. Rex's footsteps headed toward the rear courtyard. Cain returned to the east wing. Silas remained in the war room. He continued to read out the grounds for the freeze, clause by clause. Dorian's projector was still on. Blue light leaked through the crack of the door. It dragged the shadow of his long silver-grey hair impossibly long. Luna did not return to her room. She stood in the corridor for a moment. Turned toward the west wing. She had walked that corridor a thousand times. The laundry was on the ground floor of