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Chapter 89: The Caldera Kitchen (Leona’s POV)
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2026-03-30 08:08:30The threshold of the villa felt like a border between two lives.
As Malakai kicked the heavy oak door shut behind us, the sound echoed through the high-vaulted stone hallway, effectively sealing out the roar of the Atlantic and the ghosts of London. The air inside was cooler, scented with the dry, ancient smell of limestone and the faint, sweet linger of dried herbs from the kitchen down the hall.But I didn't care about the architecture. I didn't even care about the safety.I
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Waking up to my sin Chapter 94: The Glass Cage (Malakai’s POV)
The Epping industrial strip was a wasteland of corrugated iron, rusted shipping containers, and the persistent, oily smell of heavy machinery. It was the kind of place where things went to be broken down or built in secret, far from the polished glass of the city’s business district.I stood in the center of the warehouse, the hum of the specialized ventilation system a low, rhythmic vibration beneath my boots. On the outside, it was a derelict textile factory. On the inside, it was a multi-million-dollar sanctuary of sterile white surfaces and pressurized glass.I’d spent the last forty-eight hours wiring the perimeter with enough thermal sensors and non-lethal deterrents to stop a small army. But the real defense wasn't the tech; it was the silence."The air scrubbers are at ninety-eight percent, Malakai. We’re officially a Level 4 clean room."I turned as Sally walked through the decontamination foyer, snapping a pair of latex gloves over her wrists. She was a
Waking up to my sin Chapter 93: The Cape of Storms (Leona’s POV)
The heat in Cape Town didn't just sit; it pushed.It was a heavy, sweltering weight that smelled of diesel exhaust, scorched tarmac, and the sharp, briny tang of the Atlantic hitting the harbor walls. After the quiet, isolated mist of the Azores, the city felt like a physical assault. Everywhere I looked, there was motion—brightly painted taxis weaving through traffic with a chorus of rhythmic honking, the melodic rise and fall of Xhosa and Afrikaans echoing off the stone walls of the Bo-Kaap, and the constant, low-frequency hum of a million lives moving in the shadow of Table Mountain.We were invisible here. Just three more bodies in the kaleidoscope.Malakai drove the beat-up, dust-covered SUV with a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. His eyes never stayed in one place for more than a second—flicking from the rearview mirror to the rooftops, then to the crowded sidewalks. He wasn't looking for a digital signal anymore; he was looking for the human element. The one f
Waking up to my sin Chapter 92: The Echo of the Rose (Leona’s POV)
POV)The scream didn't sound like a child. It sounded like tearing metal.I was out of bed before my brain even fully processed the noise, my feet hitting the cool tile of the Azores villa. Malakai was right behind me, his movement silent and lethal, though his eyes were still clouded with the remnants of a deep, exhausted sleep. We didn't need to speak; we both knew the sound was coming from the room at the end of the hall."Kai!" I threw the door open.Our son was upright in bed, his eyes wide and vacant, staring at a corner of the room that held nothing but shadows. He wasn't glowing, but the air around him felt charged, the hair on my arms standing up as if a storm were about to break inside the four walls."She was there," Kai whispered, his voice trembling so hard I could barely hear him. "The woman with the silver hair. Elena. She said she was my grandmother. She showed me a place... a giant white building in the mountains. It was cold, Mom. So cold."
Waking up to my sin Chapter 91: The Rose’s Thorn (Leona’s POV)
The scent of ozone and boiled metal clung to the terrace long after the gray dust of the Hunter had been scattered into the Atlantic.My hands were shaking—not with fear, but with the violent, jagged comedown of a mother who had just watched her child become a god of destruction. I looked down at my palms, still gripping the "Widow-Maker" rifle, and realized I was crushing the carbon-fiber frame.Malakai was kneeling on the obsidian sand below, his massive frame shielding Kai’s limp body from the wind. He looked up at me, and for the first time in ten years, I saw a flicker of genuine, unadulterated terror in the Asset’s eyes. It wasn't the terror of a soldier facing an army; it was the terror of a father who realized the monster he’d been running from was now living inside his own son."He’s breathing," Malakai called out, his voice a gravelly rasp. "But his temperature is spiking. He’s burning up from the inside, Leona."I didn't walk down the limestone stairs;
Waking up to my sin Chapter 90: The Silver-Eyed Hunter (Leona’s POV)
The silence of the Azores at dawn wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, like the air before a lightning strike. The heat of Malakai’s body was still radiating against my skin, a ghost of the explicit reclamation we’d just shared in the tangled white linens of our bed. My skin felt sensitized, every nerve ending firing from the decade of repressed hunger we’d finally unleashed. But as I stood in the doorway of Kai’s room, the "spicy" afterglow was incinerated by a cold, sharp spike of maternal dread. Kai was standing on the stone balcony, his small frame silhouetted against the indigo sky. He wasn't shivering, despite the damp morning mist. He wasn't moving. He was staring at the tree line where the lush, waxy broadleaves of the jungle met the jagged volcanic rock of the ridge. "Kai, honey, come away from the edge," I whispered, my voice sounding foreign in the quiet of the villa. He didn't turn. "They're not at the beach anymore, Mom. They’re in
Waking up to my sin Chapter 89: The Caldera Kitchen (Leona’s POV)
The threshold of the villa felt like a border between two lives.As Malakai kicked the heavy oak door shut behind us, the sound echoed through the high-vaulted stone hallway, effectively sealing out the roar of the Atlantic and the ghosts of London. The air inside was cooler, scented with the dry, ancient smell of limestone and the faint, sweet linger of dried herbs from the kitchen down the hall.But I didn't care about the architecture. I didn't even care about the safety.I was vibrating. The "spicy" hunger that had ignited on the obsidian sand had turned into a full-blown forest fire the moment we stepped into the privacy of these walls. I turned in Malakai’s arms, my back hitting the cool stone of the entryway, and I saw that he was in the same state of jagged, desperate need."Kai is in the guest wing," he rasped, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating against my collarbone. "The sensors are set. If he so much as rolls over in his sleep, my watch will puls
Waking up to my sin Chapter 42: The King of Ash
The luxury hotel roof was a frantic landscape of humming ventilation fans and gravel that crunched under our boots. The black helicopter hung in the air like a mechanical vulture, its searchlight sweeping the building with a blinding, clinical intensity. We were two silhouettes against the gray Lon
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-25Waking up to my sin Chapter 32: The Salt and the Sin
The silence of the fortress was a living thing. In the submarine, the quiet had been a claustrophobic weight, a constant reminder of the tons of ocean pressing against the hull. But here, on the jagged volcanic cliffs of the Azores, the silence was vast and predatory. It was the kind of stillness
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-23Waking up to my sin Chapter 37: The Ghost of London
The transition from the salt-sprayed chaos of the Atlantic to the gray, suffocating fog of London was like moving between two different lifetimes. We didn't fly private—that left a paper trail. We didn't take a yacht—that was too visible. Instead, we spent thirty-six hours on a rusted cargo hauler,
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-24Waking up to my sin Chapter 27: The Ghost in the Machine
The transition from the abyssal darkness of the sea to the artificial hum of the submarine’s docking bay was jarring. As the vessel groaned against the magnetic rollers, the vibrations traveled through the soles of my feet, reminding me that we were no longer drifting. We were anchored. Malakai m
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2026-03-22
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