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65. Skyrana
Last Updated:
2025-08-17 21:23:19
Latest chapter
The Alpha King's Omega 78. Journey
The air grew colder with every mile that stretched between them and Ragnar’s castle. Behind them, the stronghold’s stone towers dissolved into a blur of mist and distance, until it felt as if the world itself had narrowed to only three figures, King, Witch, and Flame-born, and the desolate path leading toward the Mountain of Darkness.This was no ordinary road. The earth here seemed scarred, a wound carved into the land long ago that had never healed. The trees leaned too close, gnarled and twisted, their skeletal branches arching overhead like a canopy of reaching claws. Moss clung to their trunks in hues of black and sickly green, slick with dew that dripped from the bark like blood in the failing light. The wind that swept through the forest carried whispers, fragmented voices that slipped just out of reach, vanishing the moment one turned to listen.Even the horses sensed the corruption. Their hooves dragged reluctantly across the uneven earth, and their breath steamed harshly in
The Alpha King's Omega 77. Freedom
The fire still burned in Freya’s veins when she rose to her feet, though her body trembled beneath the weight of what she was about to demand. Her voice, however, did not falter.“Ragnar,” she said, steady, each syllable laced with the centuries of suffering that echoed through her bloodline, “if you want me to stay, if you want me to fight at your side, then you must give me this. My people must be free. Every omega in this kingdom, every one of them. No more collars. No more chains. No more being treated as slaves or pets. If any alpha dares to strip them of their freedom, he will face punishment as severe as if he had defied the crown itself.”Her words hung in the air like a blade suspended at Ragnar’s throat.The silence that followed was suffocating. Ragnar stood at the edge of his desk, the firelight casting jagged shadows across the hard planes of his face. His dark eyes narrowed, sharp as steel, dissecting her, measuring her resolve as though testing if this was another battl
The Alpha King's Omega 76. Mountain of Darkness
Ragnar’s grip around Freya’s HAND was unyielding as he guided her through the dimly lit halls of the castle. The echo of their footsteps rang heavy against stone, a silent reminder of the tension clinging to the air. He did not speak, but the storm in his eyes spoke louder than words.Freya’s heart still trembled with the weight of Skyrana’s presence within her, the whisper of another soul in her blood, the fire of another’s rage burning inside her chest. The sword of flame pulsed faintly at her side, as though it recognized her turmoil, as though it belonged to both women, past and present.When Ragnar pushed open the carved doors of his study, the room was already alive with the faint crackle of firelight. Nyra stood by the hearth, her silver hair spilling like moonlight down her shoulders, her gaze sharp and knowing.“You brought her,” Nyra murmured, voice steady yet touched with urgency. “Good. We cannot waste time.”Ragnar led Freya toward the center of the room, his hand firm at
The Alpha King's Omega 75. Love
The chamber seemed to shrink around them, its stone walls pressing inward as though unable to contain the storm they had unleashed. Dawn’s light bled through the fractured window in jagged beams, cutting across the floor like shattered glass. Yet even the newborn sun paled against the fire that burned in Ragnar’s eyes.Freya staggered back, her breath ragged, but she got no farther than a single step before Ragnar’s hand closed around her wrist. His grip was unyielding, trembling not with weakness but with the violent clash of rage and fear. Between them, the Sword of Flame hummed with a hunger all its own, the molten veins along its steel glowing brighter, pulsing in rhythm with their racing hearts.“Ragnar, let me go.” Her voice cracked, wavering between command and desperation. But her strength faltered beneath the searing heat of his touch, the tether that had bound them since the moment their fates collided.Instead of releasing her, Ragnar yanked her closer. The sword tilted dan
The Alpha King's Omega 74. Choose
The castle held its silence like a tomb. Not even the wind dared stir through the narrow windows as dawn’s first light crept across the stones, staining the chamber in muted silver. Freya ambled to the door, her limbs trembling beneath the weight of truths too sharp to carry.The Sword of Flame rested in her palm. Its silver-ash blade shimmered faintly, not with reflected light, but with its own pulse, an ancient heartbeat answering to her blood. In her hold, it thrummed with recognition, as if it had been waiting.Warmth surged through her arm as she closed her hand around it more tightly. Not pain, something worse. It was alive. The flame coiled through her veins, whispering with Skyrana’s voice, sly and serpentine:Run. Leave before he binds you, before he cages you like they caged me. You carry the Flame. The world needs you, not him.Skyrana was putting these thoughts in her head, but Freya wasn't leaving because of this. She was leaving because she knew Skyrana might take over h
The Alpha King's Omega 73. Let Me Go
The night had not yet exhaled the weight of battle. The castle still held its breath, the stones themselves remembering the clash of steel, the scream of fire, and the blood spilled across its halls. In the stillness of the chamber, the shadows seemed almost alive, curling against the walls like smoke reluctant to fade.Freya stirred.Her lashes trembled before her eyes fluttered open, pale and unfocused at first, then sharpening with dawning dread. A pulse beat hot in her temples, each throb heavy, dissonant, as though her soul had been stretched until it frayed. Her breath broke into ragged fragments as she sat upright, only to freeze at the weight anchoring her hand.The sword.It pulsed with ghostfire, its blade shimmering with pale flame that breathed like a living thing. The air around it shimmered with heat, distorting the chamber’s edges. Freya’s knuckles whitened against the hilt as though it clung to her rather than the other way around. Its warmth seeped into her skin, not
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