Chapter 254
COLLINS 13V
Collin’s chest tightened, and the cough came without warning. ently he cursed before he let our another cough.
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It tore through him hard enough that his shoulders jerked forward, and for a second he could not pull air back in. He bracer a hand against the edge of the bed, trying to steady himself, trying to force his lungs to cooperate the way they used to. The room spun for a brief moment, not because the world had charged, but because his body had
“Alpha-” a voice interrupted his stupor yet he only shook his head. How could he show such weakness to his people?
Thunder cracked outside, loud enough to rattle the windowpanes. The sound rolled through the packhouse like a warning. and the rain answered right after, pounding harder against the roof.
Collin swallowed against the metallic taste still sitting in his throat.
He did not know what happened.
He knew what Atasha had told him, and he knew what his own mind could remember, and those two things did not sit well together.
His last clear memory was blood and shouting and the stench of Demon Fangs. He remembered claws. He remembered the impact of bodies hitting the ground. He could recall trying to fight through the chaos like he always had, pushing men forward, barking orders, refusing to give an inch.
Then there was nothing.
A blank space that made his skin crawl.
Atasha claimed he fell into a coma after an attack. She claimed he slept while the pack rotted. She claimed his wife was dead, the pack had fallen so low it could be stepped on, and William had turned traitor, worked with Demon Fangs, and poisoned Celeste.
Collin had listened.
Collin had also watched her face while she spoke.
He had seen something there that did not match grief. He had heard something in her voice that did not match loyalty. Collin was no fool. He knew that something was wrong with Atasha.
And the fact that most of his trusted people were suddenly gone made it worse.
Renan was one of them. He was missing from his side. Missing from this room. Missing from the chain of command he had built with years of fear and discipline.
That did not feel like bad luck.
That felt like someone had cleared the board.
Collin’s eyes shifted toward the left side of the room where a healer stood quietly, hands clasped, posture respectful. Verdan was older than most of Nightfall’s living history. His hair was white, his face lined with age that did not weaken him.
Collin dragged in a breath and forced his voice to stay steady. “Tell me everything.”
Verdan’s gaze lifted, then lowered again. “Alpha.”
He started speaking.
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Chapter 254
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It felt like a decade of history poured into the room, not in dramatic speeches, not in theatrical pauses, but in a steady stream that cut through Collin’s doubts with details only someone who lived through it could provide. There were attacks. There were internal shifts. There were deaths that could not be undone. There were orders given when Collin could not give them. There were people who took advantage of the empty three.
Venlan did not need to embellish it.
The pack’s state was already the proof,
When Verdan finally stopped, Collin’s breathing had turned heasier again, but his mind was sharper.
He narrowed his eyes. “So William is still alive.”
Verdan hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Alpha. He should be.”
Collin held Verdan’s gaze. “And the soldiers accused of working with Demon Fangs.”
Verdan’s mouth tightened. “They should be alive too. Detained, but alive.”
Collin’s expression twisted into something ugly.
So William had not been executed. Not yet. The soldiers had not been killed either. That meant the North was keeping pieces on the board, not removing them.
That meant this was not just punishment.
This was leverage.
Collin’s fingers curled against the blanket as he stared past Verdan, past the flickering firelight, past the sound of rain, and felt the shape of the trap.
Atasha and the North were scheming something, and they were doing it inside his house. He had expected interference, he had expected political pressure, but he had not expected this kind of invasion wrapped in clean words and controlled smiles.
After all, Atasha was from Nightfall.
Atasha had lived under his roof.
If she was standing with the North now, then she was either being used, or she was using them.
Collin’s jaw clenched.
He looked back at Verdan. “Leave.”
Verdan blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Alpha, you are still weak. You need someone-”
“This won’t kill me,” Collin cut in, voice rough. “Go.”
Verdan’s eyes stayed on him for a moment longer, searching for reason, but Verdan had served Alphas long enough to know when obedience mattered more than comfort. He bowed his head slightly and turned to leave.
The door shut behind him.
Silence filled the room again, broken only by the rain and the occasional low rumble of thunder.
Collin sat there, breathing carefully, then let his thoughts move where he had been keeping them locked away.
Whatever Atasha did to wake him up was not normal healing.
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Chapter 231
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國際
He could feel it in his veins, the strange tension in his body, the way his pulse did not settle the way it should. It was as if his life had been dragged back by force and stitched together just enough to keep him awake.
She wanted him conscious.
She wanted him aware.
She wanted him frightened.
Collin’s mouth tightened.
She had underestimated him too much.
He pushed himself upright.
Pain bloomed immediately, not just in his chest but in his limbs, in his joints, in the places that had been ignored for too long. His vision blurred at the edges. Another cough came, and he covered his mouth with his fist as his body shook.
He tasted blood again.
His legs wobbled as he swung them off the bed.
For a moment, he nearly fell.
He caught the bedpost with one hand, knuckles whitening, and forced his body to hold.
He refused to collapse.
He took a step, then another, moving slowly across the room. Each movement felt like it demanded payment. His lungs burned, his head pounded. His stomach churned as if it still remembered what poison tasted like.
He reached the bookshelves near the far wall, the ones he had kept untouched even when the rest of the packhouse changed
around him.
Collin crouched with difficulty, breath shaking, and reached for the bottom row.
He pulled out a book that looked too old to belong there.
The cover was cracked, the spine worn, pages stained by age and neglect. It looked like something a servant would have thrown away decades ago.
Collin opened it.
The inside had been hollowed out.
In the center of that hollowed space rested an object no larger than his pinky finger, pale and strange, shaped like a thin whistle carved from something that was not bone and not wood. It had a faint sheen, as if it absorbed light instead of reflecting it.
Collin’s fingers closed around it.
His breath hitched as he lifted it to his mouth.
He blew into it three times.
No sound came out.
Not to human ears.
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to the air changed anyway
The candle flames Bickered hard, bending as if a wind had passed through the room, even though the windows were stunt The corner of the mom darkened, then darkened more, until it looked like the shadow had thickened into something with weight
It moved.
Not like smoke.
Not like mist.
Like something alive.
A dark shape gathered near the ceiling, then sank lower, spreading across the wall as if it was listening.
Collin’s chest tightened. He spoke anyway.
“We need your help,” he said, voice strained. “The North is going to conquer the South.”
The shadow shifted.
Collin continued, forcing the words through the weakness in his lungs. “If Nightfall falls, they will target you next. They will choke every path you have left. They will tear the Demon Fangs apart once they are done using them.”
His throat burned.
A cough tried to climb up again.
He swallowed it down and tightened his grip on the whistle.
“Help us,” he said. “If we fall, you fall with us.”
The cough broke through anyway.
Collin jerked forward, blood speckling the floor near his feet, his vision flashing white for a moment. He steadied himself with one hand on the shelf, then lifted the whistle again.
He blew three times again.
The shadow trembled, as if responding.
Collin’s fingers tightened around the whistle as his body shook. His breath came out uneven. He forced himself to hold on.
Then the whistle began to crumble,
It cracked, splintered, and disintegrated into fine dust that slipped through his fingers and vanished before it even hit the
floor,
Collin stared at the empty space in his hand.
He could only use it once.
That was the cost.
He had known that.
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Chapter 234
He had still done it.
Now all that was left was hope.
Hope that whoever heard it would come soon.
Hope that he had not just exposed himself for nothing.
The wind slammed into the window out of nowhere.
The shutters rattled, then the window burst open, rain spraying in and cold air cutting through the room.
Collin’s head snapped up.
His heart kicked hard in his chest, excitement flashing through him before he could stop it.
That was quick.
He turned sharply, almost smiling despite
the ache in his ribs.
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Then he froze.
Atasha stood by the open window, rain clinging to her cloak, her hair darkened by moisture, her expression calm as if she had stepped through the storm for a casual visit.
Collin’s face twisted instantly, excitement turning into something else.
Something ugly.
Then, Atasha’s lips curved.
“Hello there,” she said, voice light enough to sound polite. “Father.”
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