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Chapter Sixty-Five- Mateo

作者: Margie
last update 最終更新日: 2025-11-06 13:00:00

The garden was quiet, the late afternoon sunlight warming the stone path beneath his boots. Mateo leaned against the fountain’s edge, his fingers trailing in the cool water, watching the ripples spread and vanish. For the first time in days, the world didn’t feel like it was waiting to tear itself apart.

He closed his eyes briefly, letting the sun hit his face. Amelia had risen with the morning, calm and steady, and seeing her like that — alive, whole, present — had done something to him. Something soft, quiet, but insistent.

Mateo’s thoughts wandered to the past few weeks. The nights of fear, the fights, the moments when he thought he might lose her forever. He’d felt the weight of it all on his chest, the constant tension of needing to protect, to anticipate, to be ready. And now, standing here in the golden light, he realized he didn’t feel that heaviness as sharply. Not because the world had changed, but because she had.

Amelia had changed. She had survived
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  • Bound by blood and the moonlight   Chapter Eighty-Six — The Discipline of Stillness

    Doing nothing felt like standing in the path of a wave and choosing not to brace. Amelia learned that in the hours after the public doubt crested—not when the rivals spoke, but when the world waited for her to respond and she didn’t. The silence pressed against her like a physical force. She stood in the map room with its high windows and slow-turning globes, watching threads of activity shimmer faintly along the pattern. Conversations sparked and dimmed. Groups gathered, hesitated, re-formed. No explosions. No collapses. Just uncertainty. Jason leaned against the far table, arms folded, eyes never leaving her. Mateo sat cross-legged on the floor, calm but alert. Dimitri stood near the door, posture relaxed in the way that meant he was ready to move instantly. “They’re push

  • Bound by blood and the moonlight   Chapter Eighty-Five — A Public Unraveling

    The rivals did not announce themselves as enemies. They never did. They appeared instead as concern. Amelia first saw it on a screen. Jason had been the one to bring it to her attention, his expression tight as he stood in the doorway of the small sitting room where she’d been reviewing reports from the outer groups. He didn’t speak at first—just crossed the room and held out his tablet. “Watch,” he said. Amelia took it, frowning slightly, and pressed play. A familiar setting filled the screen: a public forum, neutral ground, one of the most widely viewed discourse platforms across collectives. The speaker was a man in his forties, well-dressed, carefully calm. Not a rival commander. Not a known extremist. A mediator. “—and let me be clear,” the man was saying, hands folded, voice measured, “no one is questioning the intentions behind the

  • Bound by blood and the moonlight   Chapter Eighty-Four — Aftershocks

    Fallout never arrived all at once.It moved the way grief did—quiet at first, then everywhere.Amelia felt it in the hours after she severed Stella’s access to the pattern. Not as backlash, not as retaliation, but as uncertainty. Threads that had once hummed with confidence now wavered, not breaking, but pausing—waiting to see what would happen next.She stood in the upper gallery, hands resting on the stone railing, watching the grounds below. People moved in small clusters now instead of drifting freely. Conversations leaned closer. Voices lowered.Jason joined her without speaking. He didn’t touch her at first. He simply stood, presence solid, familiar.“They know something changed,” he said finally.“Yes,” Amelia replied. “They don’t know what.”Mateo approached from the opposite side, his expression gentle but serious. “Rumors are spreading. Not accusations. Questions.”Dimitri’s voice came from behind

  • Bound by blood and the moonlight   Chapter Eighty-Three — The Name That Cut

    Amelia learned the truth from a hesitation.Not from a scream.Not from a rupture in the pattern.From a pause where trust should have been automatic.She felt it while sitting on the stone steps near the inner courtyard, late afternoon sunlight warming the back of her neck. The shared convergence was calm—active, alive, carrying the gentle hum of people learning how to hold one another without collapsing.And then one thread… stalled.It didn’t pull away.It didn’t snap.It hesitated.Amelia’s breath caught as she followed it.The connection belonged to someone she had let close—not through power, not through the bond she shared with her mates, but through conversation. Through honesty. Through shared memory.Stella.The name landed softly and still managed to hurt.Amelia stood slowly, the stone cool beneath her palms. Jason noticed immediately.“What is it

  • Bound by blood and the moonlight   Chapter 83

    The counterstrike did not come for Amelia.That was the point.She felt it just after midday, while standing in the open gallery overlooking the lower grounds. The bond shifted—not sharply, not violently—but with a sudden, unmistakable pull, like a tide turning where it shouldn’t.Someone close.Not one of her mates.Someone new.Amelia’s breath caught as awareness snapped into focus.“It’s intentional,” she said, already moving.Jason was beside her instantly. “Who?”“Someone connected to the pattern but not anchored to us,” she replied. “They chose a peripheral node.”Dimitri’s voice was grim. “They’re testing whether you’ll intervene personally.”Mateo didn’t ask the obvious question. He already knew the answer.Amelia closed her eyes and found the thread.A young man this time—early twenties, recently awakened, emotionally raw but earnest. He had felt the ripple after her broadcast and reached outward, not for power, but for understanding. Others like him had gathered, quietly, ca

  • Bound by blood and the moonlight   Chapter Eighty-One — The Weight of Witness

    The first collapse was quiet.It didn’t announce itself with fire or screams or shattered ground. There was no spectacle, no obvious catastrophe that demanded immediate attention.It happened in the early hours of morning, in a city half-asleep, when the world was still thin and vulnerable.Amelia felt it like a breath being pulled the wrong way.She sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing, the shared convergence surging as if bracing against an unseen impact. Jason stirred instantly beside her, already awake enough to register the change.“Something broke,” he said.“Yes,” Amelia whispered. “Not here.”She slid out of bed and crossed to the window, pressing her palm to the cool glass. The sky was still dark, but far away—far beyond the mansion’s wards—she felt a sudden, cascading absence.Not death.Disconnection.Mateo’s presence brushed the bond seconds later, followed by Dimitri’s, both

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