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หน้าหลัก / Werewolf / The Lullaby of Wolfbane / Chapter 19 — Lanterns and Leashes

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Chapter 19 — Lanterns and Leashes

ผู้เขียน: Lee Grego
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-12-25 20:20:18

The capital wakes up hungry.

By breakfast, everyone knows about the kitchen.

Not the truth, never the truth, not cleanly, but the shape of it. The story has already been chewed, swallowed, and spit back out in pieces that fit whatever agenda the teller prefers.

“Kara was arrested.”

“Kara cried.”

“I heard Abby accused her.”

“I heard it was wolfsbane.”

“I heard Selena’s name.”

That last one is always whispered, never spoken like the others, because Selena Crestwood’s family money buys silence the way it buys silk.

Tessa keeps her chin up anyway, sitting beside me with the determined expression of someone refusing to let optimism be bullied out of her.

Briar, on the other hand, looks like she’s memorizing the room for later use in
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  • The Lullaby of Wolfbane   Chapter 38 — The Friend My Mother Smiled About

    The day after a garden attack is never actually “the day after.”It’s the day everyone pretends they aren’t still bleeding. The palace smells like polish and fear, waxed floors, boiled tea, and a sharp undertone of adrenaline that no amount of flowers can cover. Guards rotate in pairs instead of singles. Doors latch louder. Conversations stop the moment I walk past, like my presence is a reminder that “secure” is a story they tell themselves.And I’m sore. Not the delicate kind of sore. The honest kind. The kind that makes stairs feel personal and breathing feel like a decision. My wolf is quieter, satisfied, settled but she’s also sharper now, like heat burned something clean into her. Adrian finds me in that strange in between hour where the palace is awake but not yet performing. “You’re walking like you’re injured,” he says, flat. I glare over my shoulder. “I’m walking just fine.” His eyes flick to my

  • The Lullaby of Wolfbane   Chapter 37 — The Night the Palace Locked Its Doors

    The palace doesn’t grieve in public. It files. It escorts. It “debriefs.” By dusk, the garden has been scrubbed so hard it smells like lemon and denial. The broken hedges are roped off. The blood is gone from the stone paths like it never belonged there. But I can still smell it on people. Fear has a scent. So does shock. They send the remaining girls back to their quarters in small groups with double escorts, as if separating us is safer than letting us huddle together like pack. Guards line every corridor. Every door has a witness. Tessa’s door has two. When we reach her room, a guard steps forward and positions himself beside the frame like a statue with a heartbeat. “Protocol,” he says, stiff. Tessa stares at him as if he’s another kind of cage. I squeeze her hand once before she goes inside. “You’re not alone,” I tell her. Her eyes shine. “My mate is a rogue, what did I do to the moon gode

  • The Lullaby of Wolfbane   Chapter 36 — The Garden Doesn’t Bleed Quietly

    Mary arrives the way storms do in Ridgepoint, without permission, and with everyone pretending it was scheduled.The palace announces her with polished words and clipped footsteps. Servants straighten. Guards tighten their positions. Even the air seems to rearrange itself around the idea of a Gamma walking into royal territory as if she belongs. I’m escorted to a receiving hall I’ve only ever passed through, never entered. It’s too big, too bright, too full of expensive things that don’t feel like anything. A line of officials stand to one side like decor. A pair of guards stand behind me like a reminder.Lia is there too, at my shoulder, calm in that way she has, polite without pliable. She gives me one quiet look that says, Public. Always public.I breathe in. My wolf is awake, present, watching through my ribs like a shadow with teeth.The doors open.Mary steps in.Her hair is perfect. Her dress is the kind of elegant that co

  • The Lullaby of Wolfbane   Chapter 35 — Lia’s Rules for Surviving Royalty

    Becoming “Princess Abby” doesn’t happen with a ceremony. It happens in a hallway. It happens when servants bow before you’ve even had water. When guards stop asking and start informing. When people look at your throat first and your face second. It happens when Adrian has to leave because he’s Adrian, because the realm doesn’t pause for anyone’s heat and the bond stretches like a living thing between my ribs and his.I can function. I can breathe. The frantic edge of the heat has dulled. But the first time he steps away from the bed, my wolf lifts her head like, Excuse you? and I have to swallow down the ridiculous urge to grab his sleeve and snarl at him like he belongs to me at all times.He dresses with quiet efficiency, shirt, belt, boots, like it’s a skill he learned before he learned to smile.“You’re sore,” he says, tone flat.“I’m alive,” I shoot back.His eyes flick to mine. A pause, almost approval.“Eat something,” he

  • The Lullaby of Wolfbane   Chapter 34 — A Princess Has Teeth

    Adrian leaving my side feels like someone trying to peel my skin off.Not in a dramatic, poetic way, literally. The bond is quieter now that the heat is fading, but it still exists like a second nervous system. When he shifts even a step away, my wolf lifts her head and bristles, confused, as if distance is an insult.Adrian sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt on with the same controlled precision he does everything else with. His mark is visible at his throat, mine and every time I see it, something warm and possessive flickers under my ribs.I’m wrapped in a sheet and stubbornness, sore in the most comprehensive way possible. He glances back at me. “You need to eat.”“I need you to stop moving,” I counter.His mouth tightens. It’s not a smile, but it’s close enough that I notice. “I have to.”The words land like a door locking. I push myself upright slowly, wincing. Adrian’s eyes flick to my face, sharp and assessing

  • The Lullaby of Wolfbane   Chapter 33 — What He Already Knew

    The heat doesn’t vanish like a snapped thread. It unknots slowly.When I wake this time, the frantic pull is quieter, still there, still humming under my skin, but no longer screaming. What is loud is everything else. My body aches in the deep, satisfied way that makes it clear the last day and a half wasn’t a dream. My thighs protest when I shift. My hips feel bruised. My throat is tender where Adrian marked me, and my mark on him throbs faintly when I swallow, like my wolf is still smug about it. I lie there for a moment and breathe. Then I turn my head. Adrian is asleep on his side, facing me, one arm curved in a loose, unconscious guard around my space like even his rest protects. He looks… peaceful. Not guarded. Not carved out of duty. Just a man sleeping. It hits me so hard my chest tightens. I shouldn’t have to wake him. I hate that my body still needs him so badly that the thought of distance makes my skin itch. I shift c

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