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CHAPTER 92: MALACHAR

Autor: Ellen Edgar
last update Data de publicação: 2026-06-18 00:04:50

Rhiannon's POV

He was alone.

The ancient vampire king who had spent two thousand years building toward this single purpose, who commanded a fortress full of Bloodletters, who had reached into a pack and taken my son—he stood alone on the mountainside in the dark and waited for us with his hands at his sides.

He looked older than the Pale Lady. Older than Caelum. The age was not in his face, which was ageless in the way of all very old vampires—still, carved, indifferent to time. It was in the w
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    Rhiannon's POVThe crowd parted.Not quickly—the way crowds part for something they want to see rather than something they want to avoid. They pressed back on either side and left a corridor of open ground, and we walked through it with the morning light behind us and the packhouse ahead, and I felt every eye the way you feel weather—not a pressure that could stop you, but present. Real.I'd walked this path before.Last time, I'd walked it masked and armoured, the Phantom's reputation preceding me like a physical force. Strangers pressing back against buildings. Fear doing the work.This time I was walking it as myself. Bruised. Bleeding from three separate things I'd decided not to mention. Carrying a four-year-old who was technically asleep again but kept lifting his head to check the scenery.I looked at the faces as I passed.The cook who'd watched me arrive as the Phantom and seen nothing of the girl who'd washed her dishes. She saw it now. I watched the recognition move across

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    Rhiannon's POVDawn found us eight miles from the mountain.Not enough. Not nearly enough. But dawn came when it came, and all we could do was keep moving into it.I carried Soren. Had been carrying him for five of the eight miles, shifting him from hip to shoulder to front as the muscles required, refusing every time Darius reached for him. Not from stubbornness—or not only—but from some deep animal need to keep him in contact with me. To feel his weight and his warmth and his breath against my neck. To keep confirming what my hands had to confirm again and again: here. He's here.He'd woken twice. Both times briefly, checking his location, checking my face, going back to sleep. The third time he woke he asked me to tell him about the mission and I did—the tunnel, the storage chamber, the vampire in the dark—and he listened with the intense attention he brought to everything, and when I got to the part about him using his magic to shield us on the stair he got very quiet."I didn't k

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    Rhiannon's POVThe descent was not graceful.My ribs had decided, somewhere between the Pale Lady and the killing wards, that they had opinions. The kind of opinions that required constant, urgent expression with every step. My nose had stopped bleeding but the inside of my chest felt like something had shifted—not broken, Nyx's brief assessment on the western face had been bruised internally, manageable, which was her version of you'll live, stop discussing it.Marcus was moving at three-quarter speed, his right arm pressed to his side, his face set in the rigid neutrality of someone concentrating very hard on not showing what something costs.Darius had Soren.Our son had fallen asleep.Of all the things I had imagined about this night—the fighting, the wards, Malachar, the descent—I had not imagined Soren falling asleep against his father's chest halfway down a vampire's mountain, one hand still wrapped around the hilt of his wooden sword, completely and utterly unconscious."Is he

  • Alpha's Regret: The Forsaken Luna   CHAPTER 92: MALACHAR

    Rhiannon's POVHe was alone.The ancient vampire king who had spent two thousand years building toward this single purpose, who commanded a fortress full of Bloodletters, who had reached into a pack and taken my son—he stood alone on the mountainside in the dark and waited for us with his hands at his sides.He looked older than the Pale Lady. Older than Caelum. The age was not in his face, which was ageless in the way of all very old vampires—still, carved, indifferent to time. It was in the weight of him. The accumulated pressure of two thousand years of wanting something he couldn't have.He looked at Soren.Something moved in his eyes.Not hunger. Not possession. I had braced myself for hunger. This was different and worse—it was grief, the particular grief of recognising something precious and knowing it is out of reach."I would not have hurt him," he said. His voice was very quiet. "I want you to know that."Darius was at my shoulder. I could feel his fury—controlled, held in c

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    last updateÚltima atualização : 2026-03-31

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    Darius's POVI shouldn't have been there.I knew it was wrong. Knew Rhiannon would be furious.But I couldn't stay away.The camp was quiet past midnight. I moved through shadows, using every stealth technique I'd learned. The tent wards shimmered but didn't activate—basic protections that recogniz

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  • Alpha's Regret: The Forsaken Luna   CHAPTER 46: RHIANNON'S RESPONSE

    Rhiannon's POV"Mama, why is everyone shouting?"Soren sat on my bedroll, his wooden sword clutched in both hands. His gray-amber eyes were wide, frightened. Outside the tent, I could hear raised voices—pack members arguing, choosing sides, the chaos Darius had unleashed spreading like wildfire."I

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    Rhiannon's POVThe news spread like wildfire through dry grass.By noon, every wolf in Crescent Moon knew. The Phantom was Rhiannon Ashwood—the wolfless omega they'd mocked five years ago. And she had a son. The Alpha's son. A hybrid child with Chimera blood.I felt the shift in the air before I sa

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