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Chapter Thirty-Eight: Fang And Flame
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2025-08-22 06:57:20
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Lupus Noctrine: Symphony Of The Cursed Lycan Quadruplets Chapter Thirty-Nine: Xander's Silence
Meanwhile,the world around him was nothing but iron and echo.Chains hung from the vaulted ceiling like the ribs of some long-dead leviathan, swaying in the cold breath of the cathedral’s stale air. They sang faint, metallic whispers every time they moved – but here, in the hollow of this forsaken place, even sound felt like trespass.Xander knelt in the center, hands bound and head bowed, but the Alpha’s posture was not in defeat - but in surrender to the silence.He wasn’t praying for mercy nor freedom; he was praying to be forgotten."Because if they remember me… they’ll come," he thought, with a sad sigh.The floor beneath him was slick stone, the kind that had tasted too much blood over the centuries. He breathed in the metallic tang, the cold dust of abandoned altars. Above, faint light filtered through broken stained glass, casting fractured saints across his scarred face.Suddenly, a shadow moved between the broken columns, and the silence was interrupted with the crunch of h
Lupus Noctrine: Symphony Of The Cursed Lycan Quadruplets Chapter Thirty-Eight: Fang And Flame
The world soon shifted again - not with a sound, but with a silence so heavy it broke the air.They found themselves stepping into a clearing where time had collapsed, a space caught between breath and bruise. Trees rose like fangs around them—black bark slick with memory, their branches whispering with tongues made of ash. The earth beneath was soft with rot, pulsing faintly, as though mourning what it once grew, and Cassius stood at the center.He was shirtless, bruised, bleeding but standing.Before him was himself.. or what wore his face.The doppelgänger was identical in form, but wrong in presence - its eyes burning with something Cassius had never allowed himself to name. Its mouth twisted in a cruel approximation of his calm expression, stretched too wide, too still. Its shadow moved independently, coiling like smoke, its edges serrated with memory-shards.They circled each other like wolves measuring breath, not movement.“You’re not me.” Cassius’s voice was quiet, but firm.
Lupus Noctrine: Symphony Of The Cursed Lycan Quadruplets Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Crimson Queen
The next day,The cursed road led them to a hall whispered with the memories of battles that never happened.They entered through a corridor of statues - each one depicting Selene, but twisted through impossible angles, some screaming silently, others kneeling in triumph. No two were the same; their faces flickered subtly as the group passed, as though watching through the fog of time.At the end of that haunted procession, the throne awaited.It stood high above the chamber on a dais of fused bone and petrified flesh, ringed in the remnants of broken blades and snapped spears. The floor beneath their feet pulsed faintly, like the beat of something half-dead, half-dreaming. The light here was wrong - dim but searing, as if the shadows themselves had burned out.Selene sat unmoving at the top of the dais, regal and silent, her body draped in a cloak of feathers blacker than void. The bones beneath her throne had been fused into art - ribcages interlocked like roses, femurs arching up
Lupus Noctrine: Symphony Of The Cursed Lycan Quadruplets Chapter Thirty-Six: The Broken World
Evangeline jolted awake with her body already halfway to standing, her breath caught in a scream that refused to leave her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t tell where she was, or if she had ever truly left the dream. Her hands clawed at the air, but the air did not hold. It slipped through her fingers like breathless silk, ungraspable, unnatural. Her heart thundered so violently she thought the sound might rip through the seams of her ribs.The fire Silas had conjured was gone. Its ashes remained, scattered across the floor in a swirling pattern that reminded Evangeline of insect wings and broken music. The walls around them had peeled inward. Once a fragile shelter, the room now stood flayed - its paper-thin surfaces curling at the edges like burnt flesh, revealing cracks in space through which the Unplace bled. Time itself seemed to recoil from the moment, pulling back like a wound resisting sutures.Around her, the others stirred, each of them bearing the same weight in their e
Lupus Noctrine: Symphony Of The Cursed Lycan Quadruplets Chapter Thirty-Five: Wind Screams Like Wolves Being Skinned
The wind tore across the Unplace, shrieking with the pitch of wolves being skinned alive -raw, flayed agony that filled the air with sound too sharp for ears to bear. It didn’t blow from any single direction. It surged from everywhere, as if the world itself were exhaling its final breath. With each gust, the fabric of this place shifted, the ground flickering between polished bone, rusted mirrors, and cracked obsidian that reflected nothing.Evangeline staggered forward, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts, her eyes narrow against the onslaught. The world stank of iron and ozone, and beneath that - something older, more intimate. The scent of forgotten blood and the tang of stolen memory. Her boots struck a surface that was not earth, not stone, but something smooth and chill—like skin that had long since turned cold. Every step echoed like a heartbeat left behind.To her left, Emma muttered under her breath, her voice thin and failing. The incantations Evangeline taught her
Lupus Noctrine: Symphony Of The Cursed Lycan Quadruplets Chapter Thirty Four: Bargain Of Thorns
The Veil shimmered like torn glass dipped in bloodlight.It wasn’t a doorway. It was a fracture.And it pulsed.Each beat sent tremors through the Hollow Refuge, shaking dust from the ceiling and rippling cracks through the bone-forged floor. The chains still dangling from the rafters began to twitch, like dead things stirred by memory.Evangeline stood at the edge of the tear, windless and weightless, the satchel empty at her hip.The Heart of Dracula now hovered above Virex’s hand, suspended in a cocoon of violet spellfire. It rotated slowly, dripping motes of blood-magic like falling stars.“Is this stable?” Thorne asked, eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t look stable.”“It’s not,” Virex replied calmly. “The Veil is a wound. The more you press, the more it bleeds.”Silas muttered a curse and paced backward, glaring at the rift.“That thing’s not a gate. That’s a trap dressed as a miracle.”“It’s both,” Emma said, sigils already forming across her forearms. “But there’s no other way.”Rhea cro
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