Nobela ni Glaiza Gucor

The air in the council hall was razor-thin, sharp enough to cut the lungs. By the time Kael and I entered, the vampires were already assembled, their black and crimson attire gleaming under the chandeliers. The queen sat at the head of the crescent table, her posture regal, her gaze unreadable—but I knew that look. She was about to make her move. Lucien was there too, lounging in his seat with that lazy, dangerous elegance that said he’d already predicted every word of today’s meeting. “Lord Kael of the Western Pack,” the queen began, her voice carrying over the chamber like silk hiding a blade. “You stand accused of failing to protect the eastern border, of harboring enemy agents, and of instigating hostilities between wolf and vampire territories.” I felt the muscles in Kael’s arm tense beside me. He didn’t speak. “You’ve had your chance to explain yourself,” she went on, “and yet attacks continue. Bodies pile up. Trust erodes. Therefore…” She paused, letting the silence stretc

The following days passed like a blade suspended over my head—close enough to feel its shadow, far enough that I couldn’t predict when it would fall. Rumors bloomed in every corner of the castle: whispers of alliances being forged in shadowed rooms, of border patrols between vampire and wolf territories doubling overnight, of assassins moving unseen. And in the middle of it all… me. Kael and I had been careful in public, but the court was sharper than any predator. Every glance was dissected, every word weighed, and every step tracked. It was exhausting to exist here—like breathing in a room full of smoke. That morning, the council chamber felt colder than usual. The long, crescent-shaped table gleamed under torchlight, its edges lined with vampire lords and ladies whose expressions were carved from stone. I sat beside Lucien, who had been ordered to “represent the queen’s interests.” Kael stood across from us, flanked by two of his own kind—broad-shouldered wolves with the air o

I woke to the sound of rain tapping against my window, the kind of soft, steady rhythm that made the rest of the castle seem unnaturally quiet. The air held the faint metallic scent that always came before a storm. The knock came next—measured, deliberate, and just familiar enough that my pulse betrayed me. I opened the door, and there he was. Kael, rain dripping from the ends of his hair, eyes lit like gold against the dim hallway. “You’re up,” he said. I glanced pointedly at the gray morning light. “Not all of us sleep until noon.” A faint smirk. “I don’t sleep.” I stepped aside to let him in. “That’s healthy.” His gaze slid over me—bare feet, loose shirt, hair mussed from sleep—and lingered just long enough to make me aware of every inch of myself. “We need to talk,” he said. “That sounds ominous.” “It is.” We sat at the small table by the window. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “The court is moving faster than I expected,” he said. “Last night’s meeting wasn’t j

Returning from the Borderlands was like stepping back into another world. The air in Ebonveil was thicker, the shadows deeper, and every set of eyes in the capital seemed sharper than before. Word traveled fast here—too fast—and I knew it was only a matter of time before our excursion became public knowledge. Kael’s hand brushed the small of my back as we walked through the gate. It was a protective gesture, not quite intimate, but my body reacted as if it was. “You’re too quiet,” he murmured. “Thinking,” I replied. “Dangerous habit.” “Coming from you?” I arched a brow. His lips curved slightly, but before he could answer, the sharp clang of a bell echoed from the upper city. It wasn’t the usual call for the evening market—it was the summons to the Vampire High Court. Lucien appeared from the side street like he’d been waiting. “Summons for all ranking members,” he said, his tone too casual. “And you’re both expected.” “I’m not a ranking member,” I pointed out. Lucien’s smile

The morning after the council’s uneasy truce, the air in Ebonveil felt different. Lighter in some ways, heavier in others. Patrols had doubled, wolves and vampires walking side by side in stiff, silent lines. The tension was a living thing, a silent creature stalking the streets. Kael found me in the courtyard, already armed. His movements were deliberate, his gaze sharp, as if measuring the distance between every threat before it could even step into view. “We’re leaving,” he said without preamble. “Leaving where?” “The Borderlands.” I blinked. “The place no one goes because it’s a death trap?” His mouth curved in a humorless smile. “Exactly. That’s where I saw those markings before. If there are answers, they’ll be there.” Lucien arrived just as Kael finished speaking, his dark cloak trailing like spilled ink across the stones. “And you didn’t think to invite me?” he asked, arching a brow. “I didn’t think you’d want to get your hands dirty,” Kael said dryly. Lucien smirked.

The aftermath of the hound attack left the southern courtyard slick with rain and blood. Guards hauled the carcasses away while the rest reinforced the gates, their armor clinking in the mist-heavy air. Kael stood at the edge of the courtyard, scanning the treeline with a predator’s stillness. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, a smear of blood along his collarbone that I was fairly sure wasn’t his. “You’re bleeding,” I said, stepping closer. He glanced at me briefly. “It’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing if you’re dripping on the flagstones,” I replied, grabbing his arm before he could turn away. His amber eyes slid down to where my fingers curled around his forearm. “You’re bossy tonight.” “I learned it from you,” I shot back, already pulling a cloth from my belt. “Hold still.” He didn’t move, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as I pressed the cloth to his shoulder. His skin was warm under my touch, his breath steady despite the fight we’d just endured. “You could