Tosin’s Lifestyleの小説

“You still didn’t die?” Naya spits on the floor. “Too bad. I was hoping the big bad Lycans would finish what we started.”I step forward before I can stop myself, hands already reaching for her throat but Theron’s arm slides around my waist, pulling me back against him. His touch is calm and steady through the bond, but it doesn’t silence the beast inside me that wants me to kill her. “Eryc will have you dead before you know it!” Naya screams. “It won’t be long before your own alpha does the same to you!”Theron’s grip tightens. “Get her out of here.”She doesn’t have the information we need. She doesn’t seem to know a thing about Eryc’s real endgame or who he might be answering to. She truly believes he’s the mastermind, which makes sense because Eryc wouldn't trust someone as stupid as Naya with the truth. She’s just another pawn who thinks she matters.We watch from the balcony as they release her at the palace gates. Naya doesn’t even look back. She shifts into her scruffy tawny

“Stop holding back,” Khaisha hisses. Her eyes glow with her Lycan just under the surface. “You’re so afraid of what you might do that you’re letting yourself lose. That’s why they’ll always see you as weak, Zephyra.”The word weak hits me like a slap.It drags up every memory I’ve tried to bury. The Stoneheart cells, the floggings, and the nights I had to beg for scraps of love that no one ever gave me. Something inside my chest snaps.The anger surges, and every part of my body goes hot. I lunge forward, pushing her off. This time, she’s the one on the floor. My hands fly to her throat, and she grabs my wrists as I squeeze, cutting off her air. “I’m not weak!” A growl rips from my lips.Khaisha’s face turns a deep red, splatters of saliva leaving her lips. “No shit!” she manages to choke out, then drives her knee up into my stomach.I groan and collapse beside her, releasing her neck. She rolls away coughing and laughing at the same time. “That was so close. You almost made Sky an o

Zephyra I’m running through trees that don’t belong to any forest I’ve ever known. The ground feels soft and moist, like water is trying to swallow my feet with every step I take.Ahead, I feel something waiting. I close my eyes for a second, and when I open them, I’m standing in front of my old house at Stoneheart. The bright green door is peeled just like I remember it, and the porch lights are flickering like they’re about to die. It sends shivers down my spine. Even knowing this is a dream, the fear is real.The door creaks open by itself, and I find myself walking into the darkness inside. “No,” I try to shout, but I can’t move or make a sound.Inside, I spot a tall figure wrapped in crimson shadows standing in the corner where my bedroom used to be. It doesn’t have a face. Only a silhouette that seems to swallow the light and the twisted part is that I know it's been waiting for me. Like a puppet on a string, my body moves toward it. Instead of fighting, I stay still, doing

TheronZephyra mutters in her sleep while I watch her. It’s the first bit of peace we’ve had in weeks since every day lately seems to bring new trouble.She rolls away from me, her hair spilling across the pillow to cover half her face. The tips of her dark strands are turning red now, like blood slowly soaking through. I wonder how long until it reaches the roots.‘She’s changing,’ Grimm says, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.‘I know.’ It’s unlike anything I’ve seen. I’m familiar with how the Cursed are supposed to look, and they don’t just transform like this. They aren't usually this volatile. It makes me think back to what Anya said about the Crimson-born. How they just might have more to them. Grimm agrees with the book. Jareth doesn’t know what to believe, and Zephyra only gets angrier every time we mention that black book. I hate keeping things from her, but with her constant breakouts, silence feels like the only way to keep the palace standing. ‘She’ll only break more

Well, what was the darned demand? I groan quietly when I see the page is torn, so I turn again, hoping to find something useful.“As punishment, a Queen of the Crimson Moon was no longer given to Zhodin after he killed the first maiden for his sacrifice of long life. Consequently, the Lycans' lives were cut short. With every Crimson Moon Queen’s life he consumed, the Lycans suffered shorter lives while he lived longer. A life for a life.”My eyes go wide. This was the curse? This is why their lives keeps getting shortened drastically? Does anyone else even know about this? Back at Molbor, we were just told the Lycans were cursed. No one ever explained why.“The last Queen shall come at a later day. Not created at a maiden age, but will take the form of a pup just birthed and still covered in its mother’s—”The sentence cuts off. The page is gone. Ripped out clean.“No, no, no…” I sit up straighter, frustration bubbling up. “Who the hell tears out the important parts?” I hiss under my

Anya House arrest is dreadfully boring. I’ve counted the cracks in the walls three times. I’ve memorized every ugly flower on the curtains. I’ve even timed how long it takes before I get thirsty again after drinking a full glass of water.I hate the quiet. Quiet makes me think, and thinking is dangerous when you’ve spent years trying to go home only to realize you aren't powerful enough to be accepted. There are only so many ways a person can sit, stand, and breathe before their mind starts to rot. I’m done with the silence.I push myself up and walk over to the window. Pressing my forehead against the glass, I stare down at the palace grounds ahead and just out of here. Everything is perfect—neat lawns, straight paths, flowers all in their proper rows. It makes my skin crawl. I need noise. I need something to do with my hands before my mind starts picking apart every single choice I’ve made since I stepped foot in this kingdom.Walking out of my temporary home, I follow the tarmac p