Marlon Surviving Summer Romane & Geschichten

Marcel saw it at the same time I did. He was upright instantly, every trace of softness gone. “What happened?” he demanded. His voice was no longer warm. It was Alpha. Controlled. Dangerous. Luna Isobel lifted her chin slightly, her eyes meeting mine for just a second before she turned her attention to her son once more. “Elara got into an accident.” My stomach tightened. “She is bleeding, and the pack doctors are taking care of her.” “What kind of accident?” Marcel asked, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “What happened exactly?”

I smirked and pulled up another video. On the screen, Lana, Felix, and his parents sat in my living room. "It's all Landon's fault! He's too damn lucky—he didn't die!" Felix said through gritted teeth. Lana scoffed. "Exactly. We should've just pushed him off the summit. That would've done it." Donelia jumped in. "Exactly! The mountain's so steep—if he fell, there wouldn't even be a body!" Uncle Caleb rubbed his chin, voice cold. "It's fine. Once he's discharged, we'll lure him back up there. Push him off and say he slipped."

Then he raised his voice, letting it carry over the crowd, through the minds and ears of every broken wolf still standing: “Anyone who is able to move—check on your neighbor. If you were hit with wolfsbane, move toward this side, here by the oak line. If you can walk, you can help. Go now.” Movement rippled through the battered survivors. Slow, unsteady, but determined. Simon turned back to Doc. “Do what you can. Loria will be here soon.” “I’ll keep them alive,” she promised. He nodded once and stepped back, eyes scanning the horizon. Our Luna was coming. And with her—hope. Or vengeance. Maybe both.