Ibukunoluwa Davidの小説

Keon's POV: The chamber had become so quiet that the steady, low hiss of the burning torches seemed to echo off the vaulted ceiling. Not a single chair scraped against the stone floor. Not a single person shifted their weight. Even the oldest, most battle-hardened wolves in the room knew better than to interrupt Derrick once he reached this point. He stood over the old Delta without crowding him. He didn’t need to. The sheer difference in height and presence alone was enough to pin the man in place. "...Let's start again," Derrick’s voice remained cool, almost conversational, cutting through the heavy air. "Where were you yesterday?" The old Delta swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly toward the ancient black granite table before locking back onto the prince. "I... I already submitted my official report, Prince Derrick—" "You did," Derrick agreed with a slow nod, his expression entirely unreadable. "And it was false." A sharp muscle jumped beneath the old wolf's jaw, th

Keon's POV: The torch fell back into place with a heavy, metallic thud as the massive oak doors slammed shut behind us. This room, its history ran deep into the very bedrock of our territory. It was a space built on ancient foundations, a chamber designed for a past that our ancestors had tried to bury. Four Clans. One table. Some clans had stood the test of time, adapting and surviving the turning of the ages, while others had vanished completely into ash and memory. Yet, through the rise and fall of regimes, one thing had remained completely constant. The table remained. Carved from a single, gargantuan slab of black granite, its polished surface formed an enormous, intricate compass. North. East. West. South. Time and centuries of heavy use had weathered the edges smooth, but not even the turning of the world had managed to shift its direction. Legend claimed that before the Great Wolf-Witch War, the stone compass had turned freely, spinning on a mystical axis to refl

Keon's POV:Sleep had become a courtesy I occasionally extended to my body. Nothing more.The dawn hadn't yet broken, but the palace was already beginning to stir beneath my window. Guards changed shifts below in practiced, rhythmic silence, their armor clinking softly in the heavy air. Life continued. It always did, entirely indifferent to the wreckage left in its wake.I rested both hands against the cold stone railing of the balcony, leaning my weight forward and letting the rain-soaked wind strike my face. The icy droplets bit into my skin, but it still wasn't enough to drown out her scent.Gods. Even after washing. Even after changing clothes twice. Even after forcing myself to stay on the absolute opposite side of the palace, away from her wing of the castle, she lingered. Not on my skin, where the physical trace could be scrubbed away, but somewhere deep beneath it. The bond pulsed quietly beneath my ribs, simply existing.I closed my eyes, a heavy sigh escaping into the dark

Winter's POV: Neither of us spoke for several minutes. The fire had burned lower in the hearth, leaving the room bathed in soft amber and silver where the moonlight slipped through the curtains. Somewhere outside, rain tapped gently against the stone balcony, a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to the storm that had just settled between us. Sabrina broke the silence first. "...Can I see it?" I looked up, momentarily taken aback by the request. "The mark," she clarified, speaking carefully this time, as if handling something incredibly fragile. "The soulmate mark." For a heartbeat, I simply stared at her. The secret had been hidden under layers of fabric and concealment charms for so long that revealing it felt like exposing a raw nerve. Then, without a word, I nodded. I stood from the chair, suddenly very aware of my own body again. Derrick's oversized shirt hung loosely around my frame, the soft fabric brushing against my thighs as I turned around, turning my back to her. "It isn'

Winter's POV I lowered my eyes, watching the moonlight ripple faintly across the surface of the nearly finished tea in Sabrina’s cup. The pale liquid caught the silver light, trembling slightly with every heavy breath I took. I had never narrated this to anyone other than Mother, and now that it was finally out in the open, the space between us felt entirely rearranged. "I don't think I told you everything," I murmured, my voice barely carrying over the crackle of the hearth. Sabrina had just taken another bite of the berry dessert. She paused mid-chew, her sharp gaze locking onto mine as she slowly swallowed. She set her spoon down with deliberate care, the soft clink against the ceramic sounding remarkably loud in the quiet room. "Considering we've spent the last hour discussing what might become the greatest diplomatic headache of the century," she said, her dry tone laced with a sudden, underlying tension, "that's a rather concerning sentence. What didn't you tell me?" I dr

Winter's POV I pause as a sudden realization chills me. "Did he—" She nods, her expression turning somber. "Keon told me about your second attack. He knew I needed to understand the full scope of the danger we're dealing with if I'm going to help get it out." She takes another bite from the dish tray, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "As I was saying. The first thing Derrick asked when we arrived was about you. Not the treaty, not the perimeter security, not the casualty report. You. Wonder why?" I tilt my head in confusion, my brows furrowing. I think about what she'd just said earlier, trying to piece the puzzle together, but the logic feels just out of reach. "I don't get it. Why would a scent marker make him drop his guard?" She sighs. "Sometimes I forget you're not a werewolf. In our world Winter, you don't live in a world governed by instincts you can't see, smell or feel. Wolves rule, live by, and establish dominance by their senses, one of which is the sense of