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Chapter Twenty-Five
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2026-01-08 06:46:06Selene POV:
We don’t announce the council.We build it.That distinction matters.If I proclaim a solution, it becomes another doctrine, another mouth waiting to be fed certainty. Instead, I authorize the framework quietly, letting it grow outward from necessity rather than decree. Ward-mages, healers, scholars, and regional representatives begin meeting under a name Lucien chose carefully:The Accord of Autonomy.Not a law.Not a church.An agreement.I sit in on the first gathering without crown or title, just Selene, listening while people argue about thresholds, safeguards, and the difference between consent and compulsion. It’s messy. Slow. Frustrating.Perfect.“This won’t stop everyone,” a healer says, hands stained with ink and herbs. “Some people will still try to force power.”“I know,” I reply. “This isn’t about stopping choice. It’s about making informed choice har
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Blood ,Fire and Frost Chapter Twenty-Eight
Selene POV:Noon arrives like a held blade finally dropping.The forum is packed beyond its stone tiers now, bodies pressed close, heat rising from skin and fear and anticipation. Ash-gray banners ripple at the far end of the square, carried by attendants who move with rehearsed calm. Candles are already lit despite the sun, their smoke curling upward in thin, deliberate lines.The Ash Queen steps into the open.She is composed, radiant in that careful way that reads as benevolence when people are desperate. Her crown of charred wood has been polished since last night, the ash symbol above her altar refined, brighter, steadier. She lifts her hands, and the crowd responds instinctively, sound collapsing into silence.Relief has a posture.I feel the Axis hum deepen, not with hunger, not with threat, but with attention sharpened to a blade’s edge. It recognizes a pivot point.The Ash Queen speaks as if she is offering wate
Blood ,Fire and Frost Chapter Twenty-Seven
Selene POV:Dawn does not arrive gently.It comes sharp and pale, slicing the city out of night like a blade drawn too quickly. I’m already awake when the first runner reaches the citadel, breath tearing in his throat, eyes wide with the kind of fear that doesn’t know how to be quiet.“Your Majesty,” he gasps. “The border glow… it collapsed.”I don’t flinch.I listen.The Axis hums beneath my ribs, low and alert, like it’s been waiting for confirmation.“How many?” I ask.The runner swallows hard. “No deaths. But… dozens are sick. They’re… different. Like they’re sedated. They can’t focus. Some can’t remember why they went outside.”Rowan’s growl is instant, a sound that belongs to the wolf more than the man. Lucien’s expression doesn’t change, but the temperature in the room drops a fraction.“Bring me everything,” Lucien says, voice calm but lethal. “Names. Symptoms. Timeline. Who administere
Blood ,Fire and Frost Chapter Twenty-Six
Selene POV:The demonstration is not meant to impress.That is the first rule I give the Accord when they ask how public this needs to be. No banners. No invocations. No ritual language that promises safety like a charm spoken over a wound. What we are building cannot survive on awe.It has to survive scrutiny.We choose a place that has never loved me unconditionally: the river forum on the city’s edge, where traders argue louder than priests and rumors travel faster than truth. The stone tiers curve down toward the water, scarred with old scorch marks from riots long forgotten and protests that never truly ended.Neutral ground.The Axis hums softly beneath my ribs as I stand at the forum’s center, hands empty, cloak plain. Rowan is visible by design, stationed at the lower steps where trouble tends to ferment. Lucien remains near the arches, half in shadow, half in sight. Neither of them looks ceremonial. Both look ready.
Blood ,Fire and Frost Chapter Twenty-Five
Selene POV:We don’t announce the council.We build it.That distinction matters.If I proclaim a solution, it becomes another doctrine, another mouth waiting to be fed certainty. Instead, I authorize the framework quietly, letting it grow outward from necessity rather than decree. Ward-mages, healers, scholars, and regional representatives begin meeting under a name Lucien chose carefully:The Accord of Autonomy.Not a law.Not a church.An agreement.I sit in on the first gathering without crown or title, just Selene, listening while people argue about thresholds, safeguards, and the difference between consent and compulsion. It’s messy. Slow. Frustrating.Perfect.“This won’t stop everyone,” a healer says, hands stained with ink and herbs. “Some people will still try to force power.”“I know,” I reply. “This isn’t about stopping choice. It’s about making informed choice har
Blood ,Fire and Frost Chapter Twenty-Four
Rowan POV:I don’t like fighting things I can’t smell.Steel has a scent. Blood does. Even magic leaves tracks if you know how to read them. But whatever the Ash Queen is using sits wrong in my senses—muted, filtered, like the air after a storm when the ground hasn’t decided what it wants to be yet.Which means someone made it that way.Lucien and I don’t speak as we move through the outer districts again, this time under heavier cover. No veils. No soft bending of attention. Just shadows, timing, and patience. Selene stayed behind—not because she isn’t capable, but because this part needs to be done without her gravity warping the room.That alone tells me how serious this is.“You feel it too,” I murmur as we pass beneath a collapsed archway.Lucien nods once. “Yes.”“Good,” I growl. “Because if you told me I was imagining it, I was going to break something.”Lucien’s mouth curves faintly. “Your insti
Blood ,Fire and Frost Chapter Twenty-Three
Selene POV:If I march into the outer districts as queen, the story writes itself before my boots touch the stones.Threatened monarch confronts rising rival.Crown crushes the people’s new hope.Power silences faith.They would chant it in the streets with the same mouths that once prayed for me.So I don’t go as queen.I go as woman.I dress plainly: dark wool, travel boots, hair braided tight and tucked beneath a scarf. No crown. No sigils. No visible authority. Lucien paints a quiet veil into the air around my presence, not hiding me completely, but softening the edges, bending attention away from recognition. A suggestion, not a spell that screams illusion.Rowan hates the plan so much I can taste it through the bond.“This is stupid,” he mutters, hands braced on the table in my chamber. “We should go in, take control, end it.”“That’s what they want,” I reply evenly, p
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