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Blood and Iron
Fecha de publicación:
2026-08-17 21:37:25
Último capítulo
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin trap and wreckage
Abel's POVThe Trap and the WreckageThe silence in the hotel suite felt heavier than lead.I stood frozen in the center of the room, the tangled white sheets pooling around my boots, staring blankly at the empty doorway where Vanessa had just vanished. The echo of her voice—cold, brittle, and dripping with an absolute, chilling detachment—was still bouncing off the walls.“You’re off duty, Abel. Enjoy your night.”A dark, blinding panic surged through my chest, clawing its way up my throat. I didn't care about the sheet wrapped around my waist; I didn't care about anything except the look in her eyes before she turned away. It wasn't just anger. It was the look of a woman whose heart had completely shattered into dust, leaving nothing behind but ice.“Vanessa—!”I took a desperate step toward the hall, but a soft, murmuring sound from the bed stopped me dead in my tracks.“Abel… baby, what’s wrong?”Lisa shifted against the pillows, her dark hair spilling across the sheets as she rea
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin Ash and Mirror
Vanessa's POV The Ash and the MirrorThe rain blurred the neon lights of the district into jagged streaks of red and blue as I slammed the driver’s side door of the town car shut.My hands were shaking so violently against the steering wheel I could barely keep the gear shift aligned. Every time I blinked, the image replayed behind my eyes—Abel standing half-naked in that hotel room, the tangled white sheets, the dark-haired woman sitting up behind him, the raw, sickening shock on his face.I pushed the accelerator down hard, the engine roaring as the car tore away from the curb.Stupid.The word echoed in my mind, a rhythmic, punishing chant beating against my skull. Stupid, stupid, stupid.How could I have let myself fall for it? How could I have sat in his bed, listened to his gravelly voice, let my fingers trace his skin, and actually believed for a single, pathetic second that he was different? Men like Abel didn't change. Alphas didn't know how to love without possessing, how t
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin The Weight of Whispers
Vanessa's POV The morning sun didn’t warm the northern estate; it merely cast a harsh, unforgiving light across the shattered pieces of a night I refused to let break me.I didn't sleep. I spent the dark hours sitting in the velvet armchair by the bedroom window, watching the horizon bleed from pitch black to a bruised, sickly gray. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of Abel stumbling through the foyer—smelling of cheap whiskey and cheap deceit, wearing another woman's mark on his collar—burned behind my eyelids.He had chosen his side. He had chosen his whiskey, his closed doors, and his silent betrayals.Fine. Let him keep them.By six in the morning, I had changed into a dark, fitted tactical jumpsuit and heavy leather boots. I checked on Ethan one last time; he was still curled up deep beneath his duvet, breathing evenly, his small face relaxed in sleep. I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, leaving strict instructions with the head maid that he was not to leave the suite u
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin Bait and Broken trust
The Bait and the Broken TrustThe heavy oak doors of Abel’s mansion slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing hollowly across the marble porch.I didn't pack a bag. I didn't leave a note. I walked straight down the front steps, ignoring the cold bite of the evening wind, and motioned to one of the estate drivers waiting near the idling black town car. He didn't ask questions—the look on my face must have been enough to keep anyone from speaking. I yanked the rear door open, slid across the leather seat, and told him the only destination that mattered anymore.South.The drive took over an hour, cutting through the dark, winding highways that separated Abel’s fortified luxury grounds from my father’s territory. As the town car cleared the main security gates of my father’s estate, the atmosphere shifted instantly.This wasn't a quiet, pristine sanctuary of wealth. It was an armed camp holding its breath before a storm.Heavy steel barricades blocked the main drive. Armed guards in tact
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin Bleeding Horizon
Vanessa's POV The coffee in the heavy porcelain cup had gone stone cold. I hadn’t touched it in an hour.I sat at the edge of the velvet-upholstered armchair in the estate’s private library, staring out the towering, floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the sprawling, frost-veiled expanse of the northern grounds. Down below, across the manicured lawns and the wide cobblestone driveway, security patrols moved in quiet, measured strides. They were professionals, carrying sleek sidearms tucked beneath tailored coats rather than heavy battlefield kits. This wasn't a trench-lined army base. It was a sprawling, hyper-fortified luxury estate—a modern fortress of glass, dark timber, and reinforced stone built to house a king who had traded his formal military uniform for an alpha’s crown years ago, even if he had never truly shaken the rigid discipline of his past.And right now, that fortress felt like a gilded cage.My father was out there.I didn't need a formal intelligence report or a tapp
The Lycan's daughter: His to ruin A day before death
Vanessa's POV The fluorescent lights of the northern district trauma ward hummed with a low, relentless drone, casting a sterile white glare across the linoleum floor.I sat in the stiff metal chair beside the narrow hospital bed, my elbows propped on my knees, staring blankly at the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of Mandy’s chest beneath the thin cotton blanket. The rhythmic bip-bip-bip of the heart monitor was the only sound keeping time in the quiet room.Inside my head, the silence was deafening, and it was driving me slowly out of my mind.How long is this going to last?The question echoed through my thoughts, cold and sharp as a shard of broken glass. How many more mornings would I wake up waiting for the next shoe to drop, the next alarm to wail, the next piece of news to rip whatever fragile ground I was standing on straight out from under me? We were constantly reacting. We were always dancing to Ronan’s psychotic, methodical tune, dodging his traps, putting out his fires,
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