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Chapter 122

Author: Sabastine
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-08-16 00:03:05

Novah's POV

Dawn bled grey and reluctant through the narrow slit of my window. Not the fiery promise of sunrise, just a slow leaching of the dark, like water soaking into parched earth. I lay still, eyes closed, breathing shallow. The stone beneath my thin mattress was cold, a familiar anchor against the chaos already stirring *within*.

*Anchor.* Breath. Cold stone. The rough weave of the blanket. *Layer calm.*

But beneath that deliberate focus, the pack pulse hummed. It wasn't the sharp, discordant clash of yesterday's forge confrontation, nor the suffocating wave of Maren’s grief. This was… deeper. A low thrum, like the Keep itself groaning under its own weight. *Anxiety. North.* Thick and pervasive. *Weariness.* From the hunters returning late, empty-handed again. *Watchfulness.* Thorne’s faction, sharp-eyed and coiled. And beneath it all, a persistent, cold *grief* that hadn’t lessened, just settled into the marrow of the place. *Grief. Finn’s mother. Finn.*

I pushed myself up, sw
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  • Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 122

    Novah's POVDawn bled grey and reluctant through the narrow slit of my window. Not the fiery promise of sunrise, just a slow leaching of the dark, like water soaking into parched earth. I lay still, eyes closed, breathing shallow. The stone beneath my thin mattress was cold, a familiar anchor against the chaos already stirring *within*.*Anchor.* Breath. Cold stone. The rough weave of the blanket. *Layer calm.*But beneath that deliberate focus, the pack pulse hummed. It wasn't the sharp, discordant clash of yesterday's forge confrontation, nor the suffocating wave of Maren’s grief. This was… deeper. A low thrum, like the Keep itself groaning under its own weight. *Anxiety. North.* Thick and pervasive. *Weariness.* From the hunters returning late, empty-handed again. *Watchfulness.* Thorne’s faction, sharp-eyed and coiled. And beneath it all, a persistent, cold *grief* that hadn’t lessened, just settled into the marrow of the place. *Grief. Finn’s mother. Finn.*I pushed myself up, sw

  • Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 121

    Novah’s POV Torin touched her shoulder, a brief, heavy pressure. Time to go. Novah rose silently, her legs stiff. She followed him out, the door closing softly behind them. Leaning against the cold corridor wall, she took deep, shuddering breaths, rebuilding her layered calm brick by psychic brick. The effort left her drained, trembling."Felt it?" Torin asked, watching her."Yes," Novah whispered, wiping at her eyes. "The grief… it’s… enormous. But she felt it too, didn’t she? The pack? For a moment?""A moment is enough," Torin said. "A spark in the dark. That is the bond. Not just noise. Connection. Strength shared." He started walking again. "Even in sorrow, it holds."***The weak afternoon sun was slanting through the high windows of the Great Hall when Novah found a quiet corner. The vast space was mostly empty, echoing with distant footsteps and the low murmur of pack members going about their tasks. The layered cacophony of emotions – anxiety from the guards, weariness from

  • Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 120

    Novah’s POV The accusation hung in the air, sharp as the sparks. The pack pulse surged – Doric’s anger flaring hotter, the watchfulness intensifying, the ever-present grief from elsewhere in the Keep twisting like a cold knife. Novah felt the layers tremble. *Anger. Doric.* *Watchfulness. Thorne’s faction.* *Grief. Finn’s mother.* *Anchor.* Her breath. The rough stone wall beside her. The smell of hot iron and coal. *Layer calm. Layer calm. Layer calm.*She stepped forward, not towards Doric, but towards the anvil. The heat from the forge washed over her. She focused on the glowing sword blade, its edges still ragged, unformed. "Fire unchecked destroys," she said, her voice quieter than the forge’s roar but clear. She echoed Meredith’s words from the night before. "It burns away the rot, but it can burn the good wood too. Leave only ash." She looked up, meeting Doric’s narrowed eyes. *Anchor.* Stone. Heat. Breath. "Strength needs control. Like the temper. Too hot, too fast… it shatte

  • Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 119

    Novah’s POV The stone walls of Moonstone Keep held the cold of the night long after dawn’s weak light filtered through the narrow window. Novah woke not to silence, but to the low, constant thrum beneath her skin. The *pack pulse*. It wasn’t just sound; it was texture, temperature, weight pressing against her consciousness even before her eyes opened.*Grief. Finn’s mother.* Cold and deep, like river stones smoothed by sorrow. She named it, felt its familiar drag. *Anchor.* Her own breath, slow and deliberate. In. Out. The rough weave of the blanket beneath her fingers. The faint scent of woodsmoke and damp stone. *Layer calm.**Anger. Doric.* A hot prickle against her nerves, a simmering ember. *Anger. Doric.* Acknowledge. *Anchor.* Breath. Blanket. *Layer calm.**Watchfulness. Thorne.* Cold spiders crawling across her awareness. Distant, focused. Judging. *Watchfulness. Thorne.* *Anchor.* Breath. Blanket. *Layer calm.*It was easier than last night. Still exhausting, a constant low

  • Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 118

    Novah’s POV It was fragile. The grief surged, threatening to swamp her meager focus. She gritted her teeth, breathing harder, forcing her attention back to the stone, the wool of her trousers, the sound of her own exhale. *Anchor. Layer calm.* Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the overwhelming *weight* of the grief lessened fractionally. It was still there, vast and cold, but it wasn’t actively drowning her. She held it at bay.Next, the simmering anger. Hotter, sharper. *Anger. Doric.* She acknowledged it, felt its heat prickle her skin. Then, deliberately, she layered her breath again. *In. Out. Stone. Knees. Layer calm.* The anger flared, resistant, but the focused calm acted like a dampener. It didn’t extinguish the anger, but it contained its immediate, burning intensity.Sweat beaded on her forehead. It was exhausting, mental gymnastics against a tidal force. She reached for the next pulse – Thorne’s faction’s watchful resentment. It felt like dozens of cold eyes on her back. *Watchf

  • Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 117

    Novah's POVThe silence after Torin closed the door on Rylan’s report wasn’t truly silent. Not anymore. It was layered. The faint scrape of boots on stone down the corridor, a guard shifting position. The distant, rhythmic clang from the forge deep within the Keep’s belly, a heartbeat for the armoury. The mournful sigh of wind finding cracks in ancient masonry. And beneath it all, humming like live wires buried in the stone, the pack.Finn’s mother’s grief was a low, cold thrum now, a bruise settled deep. Doric’s defiance flared occasionally, like coals kicked in a dying fire. Fear – a sour, metallic tang on the edge of her perception – whispered through the bonds of those unsettled by Ashton’s absence, by Silas’s gathering shadow. Resentment, sharp and prickly, emanated from Thorne’s faction, a constant, watchful pressure against the Keep’s core stability. Torin’s presence was a granite outcrop in this psychic landscape, unmovable. Meredith’s warmth beside her, a hearth fire offering

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