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Chapter 105: Shadows Don’t Stay Buried
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2025-12-19 05:58:31
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Forbidden: Fated To My Step Son Chapter 107: Blood‑Forged Choices
Kael’s POV Moonlight chased the embers from the battlefield’s edge as I gathered my strength beside her. Amara knelt in the ash and bone, face stained with soot and determination. Around us, the Old Ones lingered at the tree line—silent, unmoving, watching.They were not rebels.They were ancient ghosts. An unclaimed lineage. And now, with Cyrus’s call, they had answered.I clenched my jaw against the storm of questions that battered me: How long has Cyrus trained them? How many children were stolen? How many more of us carry ancient legacies we didn’t know to fear? But all those questions would wait. Survival came first.She rose slowly, blades still drawn, eyes bright with both fear and clarity.“Kael,” she said, voice low. “This is it. We either push forward or fall in the ruins behind us.”Her presence steadied everything—every trembling edge in my mind. We were bonded. But tonight I felt the real weight of it. Could this bond survive a war Amara was born to lead—but I was destin
Forbidden: Fated To My Step Son Chapter 106: Call of the Forsaken Blood
Amara’s POV The trees whispered his name before I dared to say it.Cyrus.It echoed across the timbered hollows of my bones, slithered down my spine like memory soaked in blood. His scent—smoke, iron, rot—flooded my senses before I could stop it. The rebel wolves behind him parted like a tide, revealing the nightmare I’d only ever known in fragments and dreams.He hadn’t aged. Or perhaps time had bent for him—twisted in reverence or fear. Cloaked in furs that dripped blackened sigils and bone tokens, he moved like a phantom of the old world. A remnant of something so ancient, it had to be forgotten to make room for peace.His eyes landed on me.And everything inside me began to unravel.“Little wolf,” he rasped, voice like grinding stone. “You remember.”I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My hand clenched around the hilt of the blade at my hip, even as my vision swam with flickers—images of other children, cages carved with runes, chanting priests, and fire. So much fire.“You marked me,”
Forbidden: Fated To My Step Son Chapter 105: Shadows Don’t Stay Buried
Amara’s POV I didn’t breathe. Couldn’t.His scent hit me first—ashes and bloodroot—and my body reacted before my mind caught up. My hands clenched, my wolf snarled low in my chest, and still, I stood there. Frozen. The firelight from the outer camp didn’t reach this far, but his silhouette burned itself into my memory.Alpha Cyrus.He stepped into view with the calm of a man who knew fear followed behind him. His eyes—once stories whispered to scare pups into obedience—glowed with the same hue as the forbidden sigil that now carved itself into my skin. He’d marked me. Not in some dream or illusion, but in the physical realm, under moonlight.“I thought I killed you,” I whispered, but the tremble in my voice betrayed me.Cyrus tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “You’re not the first to try.”My knees threatened to buckle. Not from fear. From fury. From the memory of fire and screams. From knowing he’d once stood over me as I slept in a blood-soaked cradle
Forbidden: Fated To My Step Son Chapter 104: Whispers Beneath Forgotten Blood
Amara’s POV My name echoed through the trees not the name I’d fought for, bled for, lived with but something older. Woven into bone and curse.I turned toward the distant howl, but my feet felt chained to the earth. The mark on my wrist throbbed, hot and cold, as if something deep inside me remembered. I didn’t.Not yet.Kael was at my side in seconds, his breath ragged, eyes shifting between gold and shadow. “Who called you?”“I don’t know,” I whispered. “But it knew me. And it wasn’t a memory.”He reached for my arm, brushing the edge of the glowing sigil. “It’s reacting… to something. Or someone.”“Or someone buried,” I muttered.We descended deeper into the forest. The others stayed behind—Caleb to hold the wards, Victor to brood in silence, and the twins to monitor the eastern trail. I didn’t want witnesses if I unraveled.Because that’s what it felt like: unraveling. Every step I took made my skin itch. Every breath filled my lungs with the scent of something I couldn’t place—i
Forbidden: Fated To My Step Son Chapter 103: When Blood Remembers Its Name
Amara’s POVThe fire wouldn’t go out.Not the one in the hearth. Not the one burning behind my ribs.Since the ritual that stripped the sigil from my skin, I hadn’t been the same. My hands trembled without cause. Shadows followed me, sometimes from within my own reflection. And Kael... he looked at me like he was waiting for someone else to answer when I spoke.Victor had told us the truth—or at least, enough to wreck our sense of certainty. I had once been something else. Someone else. A Blood Priestess. A name whispered in tombs too old for memory. And the ritual hadn’t just broken the sigil. It had unsealed what was buried inside me.Now I heard the voices.They weren’t hallucinations. They were memories. Old spells murmured in dead tongues. Names of stars long since fallen. And last night... I spoke one aloud in my sleep.Kael had woken with his hand on my throat. Not out of violence—but instinct. His wolf reacted before he did.We hadn’t spoken since.I stood on the stone balcony
Forbidden: Fated To My Step Son Chapter 102: Whispered Marks and Breaking Bonds
Amara’s POVBlood dried too fast. Sticky warmth turned to cracked rust between my fingers, and for a moment I couldn’t move—not from fear, but disbelief. It wasn’t mine. I was sure of that now. My heartbeat pulsed consistently, no injury, no discomfort. And still the metallic odor enveloped me like a second layer. Kael lay next to me, one arm draped over his face, completely oblivious. I observed him—his chest lifting, his breathing leisurely, body untouched. The sheets, wrapped around us, were pristine except for the marks my hands left on them. A shiver ran down my spine, freezing my breath. Something occurred while I was sleeping. I quietly got out of bed, my heart pounding in my throat, and walked to the mirror. Beneath the wavering lantern light, I inspected my body thoroughly, and then it appeared to me. An emblem. Dim initially, resembling an old bruise, then deepening as I gazed. Winding black ink curled under my ribcage, throbbing as though it were alive. I was unaware of
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