Chapter 413\u00a0<\/p>\n
Third Person\u2019s POV\u00a0<\/p>\n
The walls of the hospital room felt like they were closin in.\u00a0<\/p>\n
+5 Pea\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan Duskcliff\u2019 sat alone in the dim light, motionless except for the rhythmic tightening of his jaw. His body bore the marks of the battle-bruises along his ribs torn muscle along his collarbone, and the bandages wrapped tightly around his throat, still seeping the faintest traces of blood.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But it was not pain that consumed him.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It was the rage.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He glanced down at the money still scattered across his bed. Neatly stacked bills. Ten thick bundles. Ten thousand credits. Tossed onto his hospital sheets like a for a street performer.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The message had been clear: You\u2019re worth this much. No more.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Delivered by Duke, Lucien Duskgrave\u2019s smug and ever-yal Beta. The bastard hadn\u2019t even looked nervous walking into the room, despite knowing he was facing a Alpha who\u2019d just been humiliated in public.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cMedical expenses,\u201d Duke had said with mock sympathy \u201cOur Alpha wanted to be generous,\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
And the worst part? Duke hadn\u2019t even said Lucien\u2019s name. Just our Alpha-as if Ronan wasn\u2019t one.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan let out a low growl, claws threatening to extend from his fingers before he forced them back with effort. Losing control now would only add to his shame.\u00a0<\/p>\n
No-he needed clarity. He needed answers.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Because it wasn\u2019t just the money.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t just Lucien\u2019s punch to the jaw.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It was what happened next.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes, trying to recall every second. The street outside Moonthread Den. The way Lucien had stood over the she-wolf in his arms, shielding her face, is pheromones flooding the air like a wall of fire. Ronan hadn\u2019t seen her-could barely scent her-but some hing about the situation had prickled at the back of his mind.\u00a0<\/p>\n
So he\u2019d opened the car door. Just a look. Just a glimpse. Just enough to satisfy the question clawing at him.\u00a0<\/p>\n
And then-darkness.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Something had struck him from behind like a boulder urled by a god.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The impact had shattered his awareness in an instant, kocking the air from his lungs. He didn\u2019t even have time to shift fully before jaws closed around his throat-ot Lucien\u2019s. No. This scent had been foreign. Strange. Ancient.\u00a0<\/p>\n
His wolf had screamed. Not in anger, but in fear.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A white wolf.\u00a0<\/p>\n
1\/3\u00a0<\/p>\n
10:01 Tue, Jan 6.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The Pack\u2019s Daughter\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 413\u00a0<\/p>\n
Third Person\u2019s POV\u00a0<\/p>\n
The walls of the hospital room felt like they were closing in.\u00a0<\/p>\n
+5 Pearls.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan Duskcliff\u2019 sat alone in the dim light, motionless except for the rhythmic tightening of his jaw. His body bore the marks of the battle-bruises along his ribs torn muscle along his collarbone, and the bandages. wrapped tightly around his throat, still seeping the faintest traces of blood.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But it was not pain that consumed him.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It was the rage.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He glanced down at the money still scattered across his bed. Neatly stacked bills. Ten thick bundles. Ten thousand credits. Tossed onto his hospital sheets like a up for a street performer.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The message had been clear: You\u2019re worth this much. No more.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Delivered by Duke, Lucien Duskgrave\u2019s smug and ever-oyal Beta. The bastard hadn\u2019t even looked nervous walking into the room, despite knowing he was facing an Alpha who\u2019d just been humiliated in public.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cMedical expenses,\u201d Duke had said with mock sympathy \u201cOur Alpha wanted to be generous.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
And the worst part? Duke hadn\u2019t even said Lucien\u2019s name. Just our Alpha-as if Ronan wasn\u2019t one.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan let out a low growl, claws threatening to extend from his fingers before he forced them back with effort. Losing control now would only add to his shame,\u00a0<\/p>\n
No-he needed clarity. He needed answers.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Because it wasn\u2019t just the money.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t just Lucien\u2019s punch to the jaw.\u00a0<\/p>\n
It was what happened next.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes, trying to recall every second. The street outside Moonthread Den. The way Lucien had stood over the she-wolf in his arms, shielding her face, is pheromones flooding the air like a wall of fire. Ronan hadn\u2019t seen her-could barely scent her-but something about the situation had prickled at the back of his mind.\u00a0<\/p>\n
So he\u2019d opened the car door. Just a look. Just a glimpse. Just enough to satisfy the question clawing at him.\u00a0<\/p>\n
And then-darkness.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Something had struck him from behind like a boulder urled by a god.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The impact had shattered his awareness in an instant, kocking the air from his lungs. He didn\u2019t even have time to shift fully before jaws closed around his throat-ot Lucien\u2019s. No. This scent had been foreign. Strange. Ancient.\u00a0<\/p>\n
His wolf had screamed. Not in anger, but in fear.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A white wolf.\u00a0<\/p>\n
1\/3\u00a0<\/p>\n
10:01 Tue, Jan 6\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 413\u00a0<\/p>\n
68%\u00a0<\/p>\n
+5 Pearls\u00a0<\/p>\n
The image haunted him-moonlight-bright fur streaking past his vision, fangs stained red, a raw power that didn\u2019t belong to any Pack he knew. She hadn\u2019t just attacked him-she\u2019d dominated him.\u00a0<\/p>\n
And then she was gone.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan had once vaguely heard Scarlett mention that Riley was a white wolf, but her wolf spirit was incomplete. So he didn\u2019t connect the powerful, muscular white wolf that defeated him with Riley.\u00a0<\/p>\n
When he came to, Lucien was standing between them, golden eyes alight with possessive rage, body taut like a drawn bowstring, one hand on the she-wolf\u2019s back the other held out like a warning to stay away.\u00a0<\/p>\n
That wasn\u2019t the posture of a Pack Alpha protecting a subordinate.\u00a0<\/p>\n
That was the posture of a male standing over his mate.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan inhaled sharply. The truth began to click together like steel teeth of a trap.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A white wolf.\u00a0<\/p>\n
In Mooncrest territory.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Protected-claimed-by Lucien Duskgrave.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan had heard whispers, long ago. Folktales passed between elders when the moons were full. White wolves were said to be celestial-born. Wolves of prophecy. Wolves of ruin. Most believed they had all died out. Some said they\u2019d never existed at all.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But now?\u00a0<\/p>\n
Now, one had bitten him. And left a wound his wolf couldn\u2019t heal.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The shame would have been enough to crush a lesser Alpha.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But Ronan\u2026 Ronan wasn\u2019t just angry.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He was intrigued.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He stood up slowly, limbs aching, head still pounding. His body was bruised-but his mind was sharp. Cold. Focused like a blade honed in silence.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Lucien had a secret.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A dangerous one.\u00a0<\/p>\n
And in the game of territory, secrets were weapons.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He reached toward the nightstand, grabbing his phone with bloodied fingers. The screen flickered to life, casting a pale glow over his face. He scrolled until he found the number, and pressed dial.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The line connected almost immediately.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cAlpha,\u201d came the voice on the other end-crisp, efficient His Beta. Loyal. Quiet. Deadly when required.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI need eyes,\u201d Ronan said, his voice hoarse from the wound but firm as stone. \u201cThere was a white wolf at Moonthread Den. Female. Fast, strong, unregistered.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
2\/3\u00a0<\/p>\n
10:02 Tue, Jan 6\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 413\u00a0<\/p>\n
There was a pause. \u201cA white wolf?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYou heard me.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t think they-\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t care what you thought. I was bitten. Deep. I still can\u2019t shift. That means this isn\u2019t a rogue. It\u2019s something else. Something powerful.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
His Beta\u2019s tone shifted. \u201cYou think Lucien\u2019s protecting her?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
+5 Pear\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI know he is.\u201d Ronan\u2019s eyes narrowed, pacing to the window. \u201cI want her identity. Her origin. Who she\u2019s bonded to. Any rumors, rogue sightings, rogue rescues, any sealed records. I don\u2019t care if it\u2019s from the Pack archives or the old prisons. She wasn\u2019t on the Council register. That means someone\u2019s hiding her.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the official route?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d Ronan\u2019s voice cut through the line like a whip. \u201cNo Pack Elders. No bureaucrats. This stays off the grid. Use back channels. Pay whoever needs paying. I want to know who she is-and why Lucien would risk his throne to keep her hidden.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
His Beta didn\u2019t hesitate. \u201cUnderstood. I\u2019ll begin tonight.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Ronan ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The wind howled outside the window, brushing against the glass like claws against bone.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He stared at his reflection in the pane-bloodied, half-dressed, humiliated\u2026 but not broken.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cEnjoy your illusion of victory, Duskgrave,\u201d he murmured, his voice nearly a growl. \u201cBecause once I uncover what you\u2019re hiding\u2026\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
His eyes glinted with cold satisfaction.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll burn your kingdom from the inside out.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Send Gifts\u00a0<\/p>\n
934\u00a0<\/p>\n
1\u00a0<\/p>\n
3\/3\u00a0<\/p>\n
10:02 Tue, Jan 6\u00a0<\/p>\n
Joseph King is an editor and storyteller who ensures every chapter is clear, polished, and engaging for readers.<\/p>\n
Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe 413 Chapter 413\u00a0 Third Person\u2019s POV\u00a0 The walls of the hospital room felt like they […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[35],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20688","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pack-princess"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20688","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20688"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20688\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20688"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20688"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20688"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}