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Chapter 140-BETWEEN THE HORIZON AND THE END.

Author: D.Moses
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-13 23:05:44

Cassian’s legs were already betraying him. Every muscle in his thighs felt like a steel cable fraying under strain, and still he pushed harder. His shadow stretched long across the pale ground, the sun sharpening its edges as if marking him out for the riflemen behind.

The flats gave nothing—no rise, no dip, just a blank page for death to write his name on. He could hear them fanning wider, boots crunching dry grass and powder dirt. It was the sound of inevitability, closing in.

Another shot cracked, closer this time. Something hot and sharp kissed his arm, tearing cloth and grazing skin. The sting was instant, but the deeper wound was the knowledge that they were zeroing in.

He kept running.

Behind him, shouts rose and fell like waves, commands carried on the wind. They were calling his direction, cutting the angles, pushing him where they wanted him.

Cassian refused to be herded.

He cut left, sharp and sudden, forcing his body into a sprint he couldn’t afford. His vision tightened t
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  • Twice His Wife   Chapter 149-THE WEIGHT OF DOORS.

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  • Twice His Wife   Chapter 148-THE EDGE OF THE VAULT.

    Sleep didn’t come easily that night. The farmhouse walls felt too thin, as if the night itself had ears. Every creak of wood, every shift of wind against the shutters, made Anaïs feel like something was waiting just beyond.She lay with the child pressed close to her chest, listening to the slow rhythm of their breathing. Cassian was a dark shape at the other side of the room, restless but silent. She could tell he wasn’t asleep. He rarely was, not anymore.Julien was downstairs with Crane, and though she told herself it was safer that way, her body still ached with unease. She had touched his hand earlier, felt the cold of it, the tremor. Alive, yes—but alive wasn’t the same as whole.When dawn finally broke, it wasn’t gentle. The sky came sharp and red, as if it too had been torn awake from something violent.By the time Anaïs made it down to the kitchen, Julien was already waiting, a map spread across the table. He hadn’t shaved; his eyes were ringed with exhaustion. Crane sat besi

  • Twice His Wife   Chapter 147-ASHES BETWEEN US.

    Julien’s hand didn’t move at first. He just stared at Anaïs’s fingers resting on the table, close enough for him to touch. She held still, her breath locked inside her chest, afraid the wrong twitch might send him vanishing again. Then, with the slow hesitation of someone relearning how to trust his own body, Julien lifted his hand and placed it over hers.His skin was colder than she remembered. The pressure was light, almost afraid.Cassian shifted, not liking the intimacy of the moment, but he didn’t speak. His silence had its own sharpness, and Julien felt it. He pulled back too soon, his jaw tightening.“You think I came back for comfort,” Julien said. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a tremor that wasn’t weakness—it was restraint. “But I didn’t. I came back because they didn’t finish the work. Because what they started is still burning, and if we don’t stop it, none of us will make it through.”Crane leaned forward, his notebook open, pen ready. “You said before, you ca

  • Twice His Wife   Chapter 146-THE WEIGHT OF WHAT REMAINS.

    The night was heavy with silence, as though the world itself was holding its breath. The farmhouse walls creaked faintly with the shifting of timber, the wind grazing the shutters like a careful hand. Inside, Anaïs sat awake, the child pressed against her chest, small breaths puffing steadily against her collarbone. She hadn’t slept. Not really. Her eyes closed sometimes, but the weight behind them refused to loosen, as if her mind feared the moment rest came, she might wake to something worse than all she had already endured.Cassian moved quietly in the next room. She could hear him by the scrape of a chair leg, the faint clink of metal as he adjusted the pistol on the table, the rhythmic sound of a man who could not allow himself to rest either. They were both caught in the same trap: too much loss, too much fear, too much of Julien still lingering like an open wound they couldn’t decide whether to protect or let scar.Julien.His name alone filled the air like smoke. They hadn’t s

  • Twice His Wife   Chapter 145-THE FAR SIDE OF THE ASH.

    The world shrank to the sound of her breathing. Every inhale scraped her chest raw, every exhale left her tasting grit and metal. Anaïs kept low as she moved, legs burning, the child’s small body pressed against her as if keeping him tight to her ribs might ward off every bullet flying across the flats. His tiny fingers curled in her shirt, and she felt the tremor in them like a brand.Cassian’s gunfire echoed still, the rhythm uneven, deliberate. Not meant to kill, not really—meant to pull eyes. To pull fire. To drag them toward him.Her stomach twisted. She had seen him break cover, seen the way his shoulders squared before he bolted across the empty land. That choice wasn’t random. He’d given it to her, clean and sharp: his life in exchange for her chance.Her boots hit the brittle ground, each stride jarring through her bones. She darted between the half-standing ribs of the old windmill, its skeleton creaking against the heat, and dropped into the shadow it cast. From here, she c

  • Twice His Wife   Chapter 144-THE SHAPE OF DAWN.

    The storm had passed sometime after midnight, leaving the world heavy with silence. The ground was damp beneath their boots, the air still sharp with the scent of rain. Dawn came reluctantly, like a secret too dangerous to be revealed, a pale smear of light climbing over the horizon.Anaïs stood at the window of the farmhouse’s upstairs room, her hand pressed against the cool glass. From this angle she could see the fields stretching into mist, the barn with its sagging roof, and beyond it the long line of trees marking the edge of the property. The world looked deceptively still. She knew better. Stillness was never safety, only the pause before the next fracture.Behind her, Cassian was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed where they had snatched a few hours of rest. His shirt was half-buttoned, his hands moving slow and deliberate, as though buying himself time. He had the look of a man cataloging every second. It wasn’t nerves; Cassian didn’t rattle. It was awareness, sharp and u

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