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หน้าหลัก / Romance / Bound to the Enemy’s Bed / Chapter 107

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Chapter 107

ผู้เขียน: Christina Wilder
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-10-24 13:21:53

The Vale was no longer still.

What had once been a cradle of stone and echoing wind now pulsed like a living heart, veins of molten light running through the cracks in its floor. The night’s air shimmered with charged breath, as if the stars themselves were holding back, afraid to look down upon what was waking below.

Elaria felt the shift before the sound reached her. The earth was whispering — not in language, but in the ancient rhythm of blood and bond.

Her hand tightened around the hilt at her side.

Behind her, the council ruins still smoked, the smell of burnt silver and blood thick in the air. Bodies lay half-buried beneath collapsed stone, the once-proud banners of the council now trampled in ash.

Draven stood a few paces away, head bowed slightly, his shoulders trembling—not from weakness, but from the strain of holding himself together. His power was flickering, the wounds from the earlier ambush not yet healed. But even in his exhaustion, his aura pressed outward—commanding,
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  • Bound to the Enemy’s Bed   Chapter 117

    The lake was not supposed to be awake.It had always been still — an obsidian stretch beneath the Vale’s scarred sky, reflecting what the world chose to show it. But now, the surface rippled like breathing glass, the faint shimmer of moonlight bent at strange, wrong angles, as if two different heavens were fighting for the same sky.Elaria’s boots sank into the wet earth. Her reflection followed, hesitant, fractured into a dozen mirrored shards.“Draven?” she whispered, her voice carried softly by the fog. The air around her shivered — as if even the sound of his name disturbed the fragile fabric of what remained.No answer. Only the pulse — that deep, rhythmic echo she had begun to feel beneath her own skin since the explosion. It beat like a heart that wasn’t hers.She knelt, and the water moved toward her.Not a wave. A reach.For a fleeting instant she saw herself — not as she was, but as the lake remembered her: silver eyes like open wounds of moonlight, hair flowing as if caught

  • Bound to the Enemy’s Bed   Chapter 116

    The world came back to her as light—searing, blinding, wrong.Elaria gasped against the weight crushing her chest, her lungs clawing for air thick with dust. The ruins around her had been reduced to nothing but scorched bones of marble and molten glass. The temple’s heart—the place where she had stood face to face with him—was now a smoking crater.Him.Draven.Her pulse stuttered as memory cut through the haze: that voice, that impossible golden light threading through his veins, and the words that didn’t sound like his. Draven is remembering.Lightning forked across the gray sky. The Vale shuddered, trembling down to its roots. She pushed herself upright, coughing, blood slicking her palms.All around her lay bodies—some breathing, some not. Healers crawled through the wreckage, their chants breaking, terrified. Kairis’s voice was a distant echo, shouting orders she could barely process. The air itself was cracked, shimmering where the rift had once been sealed.And in the center of

  • Bound to the Enemy’s Bed   Chapter 115

    Elaria woke to silence that wasn’t silent at all.The ruins breathed. The very stones of the Vale pulsed with a low vibration, a heartbeat that wasn’t human. Ash hung in the air like drifting snow; when she inhaled, it tasted of iron and old prayers. The world had gone pale, as if every color had been scraped away in the night.For a moment she didn’t remember how she’d fallen.Only the echo of Draven’s hand tearing free from hers, the light swallowing him whole, and the whisper that had split the air: You’ve freed her.Her own blood burned under her skin now, brighter than any wound. The mark at her wrist—the bond they’d shared—had turned to a thin thread of gold light that pulsed like a vein, fading toward the horizon where the rift had been.“Draven.”The word left her as a breath and a vow.She pushed herself upright, muscles trembling, shards of mirrored glass clinging to her palms. Around her the Vale had collapsed into a labyrinth of half-melted walls and floating fragment

  • Bound to the Enemy’s Bed   Chapter 114

    The world had folded in on itself.Draven came to in silence—a kind that felt alive, thick with a pulse that was not his own. The air shimmered like glass on the verge of cracking. When he lifted his head, the ground beneath him rippled as if made of mercury, and the horizon bled light from unseen wounds.He was back in the Vale—or something wearing its skin.The mountains were reversed, peaks plunging into the heavens like inverted spears. The stars burned below his feet instead of above, scattered across the reflective plane like shards of memory. His breath fogged in front of him, silver not white, and his reflection in the mirrored ground looked back not as he was—but as he could have been. A darker thing. Older. Hungrier.“Elaria…”Her name was the first thing that came to his lips. But here, even his voice sounded wrong—like an echo speaking before he did.He turned.Every direction looked the same: endless sky beneath, endless dark above. Only the faint shimmer of movement led

  • Bound to the Enemy’s Bed   Chapter 113

    There was no sky anymore—only light and echo.Draven stood in a world made of reflection: every motion thrown back at him, every heartbeat answered. The air trembled with the sound of a thousand wings beating in rhythm with his pulse. The mirrored Vale bent around him, repeating his form until he couldn’t tell where he ended and the copy began.The reflection—his other self—watched with an expression that was too calm. The gold in its eyes had deepened to molten metal. When it spoke, its voice came from every direction. “You built yourself on defiance. Let’s see if defiance alone can stand against what you truly are.”Steel hissed as they moved. The sound didn’t travel; it multiplied. Sparks burst, scattering into constellations that hung mid-air, as if time hesitated to decide whether they should fall.Every swing struck memory loose.When Draven parried the first blow, the ground rippled into a vision of the fortress on fire. He smelled smoke, heard Elaria calling his name through

  • Bound to the Enemy’s Bed   Chapter 112

    There was no falling.Only the sensation of being unmade.Draven drifted through the rift as if time itself had forgotten him. His body no longer obeyed the laws of flesh. Light and shadow wrapped around him in slow tides, each pulse revealing fragments of worlds half-born and half-dying. Sometimes he saw the Vale—the ruins bleeding light, the shattered dais still humming like a broken heart. Sometimes he saw nothing at all.Then came the voices.At first, whispers.Then clearer, sharper.“Draven.”Elaria’s voice—distant, trembling.And then another, deeper, colder.“Draven.”Rhovan.They overlapped, their tones clashing like steel on stone. He clutched his head, pain flashing through him as both voices burrowed deeper. He couldn’t tell which one was real anymore. He couldn’t tell which one he wanted to be real.“Stop—” His voice came out fractured, echoing back in triplicate. “Stop, please—”But the rift didn’t stop.It responded.The light around him folded, rippling into images—mem

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