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Chapter 111: The World Without a Keeper
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2026-01-22 09:00:55POV: Kael
The moment Lyra vanished, the world went quiet in a way that felt profoundly wrong, like a heart forgetting how to beat while the body remained stubbornly alive.
There was no explosion. No triumphant roar from the Void, no divine thunder to mark the end of an age. The medallion sealed itself with a low, resonant sound; final and absolute, like stone sliding into place over a grave. The violent pull at my chest ceased, the wind collapsed inward, and the howling pressure that had threatened to tear reality apart simply… stopped.
Lyra was there one breath and Gone the next.
Ash drifted down from the bruised sky in slow, lazy spirals. The Dead Lands exhaled, not in relief, but in resignation. Shadows froze mid-motion, t
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My Mate's Father Claimed Me CHAPTER 121: The Child Who Walked Into Fire
POV: Kenny“I was not brave, I was afraid.”That was the first thing I remembered saying, though I did not know who I said it to.My eyes were closed, but I could still see. The dark around me was not empty, It moved, breathed, listened. Every time I tried to drift away, something nudged me back, as if the darkness itself did not want me to sleep.“Open them,” a voice said.It did not sound like mama or papa, It did not sound like anyone.“I do not want to,” I whispered.“You already did,” the voice replied.I opened my eyes, light and dark twisted together above me, folding and unfolding l
My Mate's Father Claimed Me Chapter 119: The Dawn That Costs Everything
POV: KennyMama says brave does not mean you are not scared; it means you walk anyway.“I am scared,” I told Daddy.Kael’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, then loosened again. He did not look at me at first, he was watching the horizon, the cracked mountains of the Dead Lands stretching like broken teeth beneath a sky that never quite decided to be day or night.“You should be,” he said at last. “This place eats Kings.”I nodded slowly. “It tried to eat Mama.”His jaw clenched. “But it will not touch you.”&
My Mate's Father Claimed Me Chapter 118: The Keeper’s Choice
POV: LyraI had become the cage, but cages rust.I felt it first as fatigue, the kind that did not belong to muscle or bone. It settled into thought itself, making each moment heavier than the last. The prison still breathed around me, pearl-white walls pulsing steadily, but the rhythm was no longer effortless. Each beat lagged, like a heart forcing itself to continue long after it should have rested.I pressed my palm against the living light.It trembled.“So,” I murmured, “this is how it begins.”The Void did not answer immediately. It had learned patience. That, more than anything, frightened me.
My Mate's Father Claimed Me Chapter 117: The Fracture in the Song
POV: KaelHope returned the moment the medallion screamed.It was not a sound meant for ears, It ripped through my chest, through bone and instinct and bond, sharp enough to make my knees buckle. I staggered forward, fingers clawing at the air as the medallion at my throat flared hot, its glow warping from steady silver into something jagged and uneven.Lyra.The song was wrong.I barely had time to register the distortion before Darius struck.Steel met steel in a spray of sparks, the impact reverberating up my arms. He had been waiting for the distraction of course he had. Darius never fought fair, he fought when it hurt most.
My Mate's Father Claimed Me Chapter 116: The Hunger That Learns
POV: The VoidShe thought mercy was a chain, but chains can be studied.At first, I was still.This is not the same as silence, stillness is an act, a decision. I folded myself inward and allowed the prison to close, allowing the walls of light and intention to press against my vastness. The medallion did not crush me. It contained me, the way a cup contains the sea only because the sea permits it.Lyra believed she had won by offering herself.She did not understand that sacrifice is a language I speak fluently.I observed her.That was the first change.
My Mate's Father Claimed Me Chapter 115: The Price of Almost Redemption
POV: AidenI survived treason, exile, and guilt, but survival has never felt like forgiveness.The healers said I was lucky.They said the stones should have crushed my ribs completely, that Corvin’s magic should have stopped my heart outright, that most wolves would have bled out before help arrived. They spoke in careful tones, as if luck was something fragile they might shatter if they named it too loudly.I did not feel lucky, I woke each day with the same image burned behind my eyes.Kenny’s hand slipping from mine.I lay on a narrow cot in the west wing infirmary, staring at the cracked ceiling while the smell of ant
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