Nobela ni Unique princesses

The sharp scent of antiseptic hit Elora’s nose before her eyes fluttered open. The world was too bright, a flood of white light searing against her vision. The steady beep of a machine echoed in the sterile room, slow and deliberate, like a heart beating outside of her own body.Her lips were cracked when she whispered, “Joel…”A familiar laugh cut through her haze. “Finally. Look who decided to wake up.”Elora turned her head weakly, her muscles screaming as if they’d forgotten how to move. Maya sat at her bedside, arms folded across her chest, her face creased with a mixture of relief and exasperation.“You’ve been in a coma for two months, Elora. Two months,” Maya said, leaning closer. “I nearly lost my mind waiting for you to open your stubborn eyes.”Elora blinked, confusion and panic threading through her. “Two months? No… no, that’s not possible. I was just—” She tried to sit up, but pain shot through her body, forcing her bac

The sharp scent of antiseptic burned her nose before her eyes opened. Beeping machines hummed in rhythm, their sounds crisp and foreign compared to the whisper of trees or the growl of wolves. For a moment, Elora lay still, her mind torn between dream and reality.When she finally blinked, the white ceiling above her swam into focus. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed softly, sterile and unyielding. She wasn’t in the cabin. She wasn’t in the forest. She wasn’t in Silverfang.She was in… Raven Ridge.“Elora?”The voice was soft, tentative, disbelieving. She turned her head slowly, and her breath caught. Standing at her bedside was Maya, her best friend, eyes swollen from crying but lit up with desperate relief. Behind her, two others hovered—Caleb and Iris, their faces pale, as though they were seeing a ghost.“Y-you’re awake,” Maya stammered, pressing a trembling hand to her lips. Then, unable to hold back, she rushed forward, grab

The world outside the cabin had grown eerily quiet, as if Silverfang itself was holding its breath. The forest that once buzzed with whispers of unseen spirits now seemed still, waiting, almost watching. Elora sat by the wooden window, staring out into the fading twilight. Her reflection on the glass looked ghostly—eyes shadowed by fatigue, lips pale, hair tangled. For the first time, she truly looked like what she was: a girl caught between two worlds, carrying a curse that was breaking her from the inside out.Joel had been silent for most of the day. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his broad frame tense with the kind of restlessness that had no outlet. His wounds had healed faster than hers, but the ache in his chest had nothing to do with injuries. It was Elora. Always Elora.“You haven’t eaten all day,” Joel finally spoke, his voice low but rough, like gravel being dragged.Elora didn’t turn. “I’m not hungry.”“That’s not an

Ashes of the CurseThe curse has chosen its vessel. And soon… the vessel will break.The whisper rippled through the air like a living thing—soft, venomous, and cruel. Joel’s head snapped up, eyes scanning the darkness. Nothing moved. No footsteps, no breath, only the low hum of power that seemed to tremble beneath the earth.“Elora…” he murmured, his voice low and urgent. “Did you hear that?”Her eyelids fluttered open, lashes heavy with exhaustion. “Hear what?” she breathed weakly, her words barely audible.Joel’s grip tightened on her hand. “Voices. They’re close.”But Elora only shook her head, confusion clouding her silver eyes. “There’s nothing. It’s quiet.”He frowned, heart pounding harder. The forest was quiet—but not naturally so. It was the stillness of something waiting, watching. His instincts screamed at him to move, to run, to take her far from this place before the silence shattered.Then the ear

The forest had never felt so alive, and yet so suffocating. A thousand branches whispered above Elora’s head, the night wind carrying the scent of damp moss and forgotten blood. Every step she took seemed to echo back at her, as though the trees themselves were keeping count, reminding her of the fragile distance she still had left to walk before her fate caught up with her.Joel walked at her side, though slower now, his steps marked by a limp he tried to conceal. He had been wounded in the last confrontation with Kerric’s loyalists, but he said nothing of it. His silence carried the weight of his devotion, every ounce of his strength focused on making sure she kept moving forward. His hand brushed hers occasionally, a subtle reassurance, grounding her against the storm raging inside her.“Elora,” he finally murmured, voice rough like stones dragged across each other. “You’ve been too quiet.”Her lips parted, but no words came. What could she say? Th

The hum of Raven Ridge was both comforting and disorienting. Cars honked in the distance, neon lights flickered across damp sidewalks, and the chatter of humans filled the streets—ordinary life, loud and relentless. Yet for Elora, each sound was alien, too sharp, too alive, as though she had been thrust into a world that had moved on without her.It had been only three months. Three months since her friends had last seen her, three months since her name had flashed across missing-person posters plastered on telephone poles and store windows. But for Elora, it had been a lifetime. A lifetime of blood moons, curses, betrayals, and Joel’s final scream echoing in her mind.She walked past the corner café where she and Ava used to sneak in after school, the smell of roasted coffee beans curling around her like an embrace she didn’t deserve. People stared as she passed—her silver hair catching the glow of the streetlamps like a beacon. She tugged the hood of he

The morning sun filtered weakly through the stained-glass windows of Wind Grave Academy, casting fractured patterns across the stone floors. The halls, usually filled with the low murmur of students and the clatter of hurried footsteps, were eerily quiet. Evelyn moved carefully, her senses still sharp from the previous night’s trial, every shadow and whisper magnified in her mind.She passed the old oak staircase, running her hand along the polished railing, feeling the pulse of the academy beneath her fingertips. It was alive, she realized, more alive than she had ever imagined. Every corridor, every classroom, every empty hallway seemed to breathe with hidden purpose. And it remembered everything—including her trial, even before the Grimoire had been opened.Evelyn’s thoughts drifted to Lucien and Elias, the tension of their uneasy alliance echoing in her mind. Lucien had been present in her trial in spirit if not in body, a shadow of guidance and challenge. His amber gaze lingered

The hidden chamber still hummed with residual energy from the Grimoire as Evelyn set her trembling hands upon its cover. The air was thick, saturated with power that seemed to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath shallow, as though the walls themselves were drawing the oxygen from the room.“Are you ready?” Ava’s voice was calm, almost eerily so, yet the weight of expectation hung like a shadow over Evelyn’s shoulders.Evelyn swallowed hard, nodding. “I… I think so.”Ava stepped back, gesturing to the ancient tome. “This is your trial. You will be tested in ways you’ve never imagined. The Grimoire will reveal truths—but it will also ask for something in return. Be strong, Evelyn. Trust yourself, and trust no one else here but your instincts.”Evelyn’s fingers traced the embossed symbols on the Grimoire’s cover. They felt alive, vibrating beneath her touch. Taking a deep breath, she opened the book.The moment the cover cracked open, a gust o

Night had fallen over Wind Grave Academy, draping the stone towers in a veil of shadow. The hallways were empty, the faint echo of Evelyn’s footsteps bouncing against the walls like whispers. Her satchel bounced lightly at her side, the parchment from Ava burning a hole in her mind even as it rested safely in her pocket. The halls remember what you are… Choose wisely…Evelyn’s heartbeat thudded in her chest as she approached the west wing library. Every instinct screamed caution, but determination drove her forward. She wasn’t running anymore—not from the truth, not from what she was meant to face. Tonight, she would step fully into the secrets that had always hovered just out of reach.Inside the library, Ava waited. The faint glow of enchanted candles illuminated her features, making her look both ethereal and dangerously alert. Her eyes, sharp and unwavering, locked on Evelyn the moment she entered.“You came,” Ava said, her voice a soft murmur but filled with weight. “Good. Time i

The sun had dipped low over Wind Grave Academy, casting long fingers of light that barely reached the inner courtyards. Evelyn moved through the hallways with quiet precision, the folded parchment still in her pocket, the words etched into her mind like a living threat. The note’s warning haunted every step: “Choose wisely, or you will be chosen.”Her fingers clenched the straps of her satchel as she made her way to the west wing—a section of the academy rarely traversed by students, reserved for study and restricted research. The dim light through the high windows threw shadows across the stone floors, elongating them into shapes that seemed almost alive. Every echo of her steps sounded like a whisper in the silence.She tried to focus, tried to push away the tension pooling in her chest. Why now? she wondered. Why is the academy… turning against me?A sudden noise—a door closing somewhere in the distance—made her freeze. Her pulse spiked, the hairs along her neck standing on end. Sh

The corridors of Wind Grave Academy carried more than footsteps; they carried whispers. Secrets seemed to cling to the stone walls, pressing close as though the building itself knew things Evelyn was not meant to uncover.Her shoes tapped softly against the marble floor as she made her way toward the library. The day had passed in a blur of lessons she barely remembered—numbers, history dates, lectures that dissolved into nothing as soon as they reached her ears. Every time she tried to focus, her mind betrayed her, circling back to the same questions.Why had the forest called her name?Why had Lucien looked at her as if he were both protecting and hiding something?And why, in Elias’s gaze, did she sometimes feel both safer and more exposed than anywhere else?She pressed her palm against the cool stone of the wall, steadying herself. The academy was vast, but she never felt truly alone. Eyes followed her—sometimes Lucien’s, dark and unreadable, sometimes Elias’s, steady and intent.

Darkness swallowed the library.The silence was suffocating, broken only by the erratic rhythm of Evelyn’s breathing. Her pulse roared in her ears as she stumbled backward, clutching the folded letter in her fist like it was a weapon.Then—light.A small flame bloomed, revealing the stranger’s face. The green-eyed boy held a single candle, its glow illuminating sharp features and a half-smile that seemed too calm for the situation.“Who are you?” Evelyn demanded, her voice unsteady.“Names are dangerous,” he said, tilting his head. “But since you insist—call me Caden.”Caden. She had never heard of him. And yet, the way he said it carried weight, as though she should know.“What do you want from me?” she asked.He studied her, his gaze lingering on the crumpled letter in her hand. “I see you’ve received your first warning. Good. That means they’re starting to notice you.”Evelyn’s grip tightened. “Who is they?”Caden’s smile faded. He stepped closer, and though instinct told her to mo