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Two Bees One Flower
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2024-09-01 23:40:16
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Will Bear the Moon Chapter 49 Can I Squeeze Through
*Nicoli*The scent of pine and spiced wine clung thick in the air, mingling with the ghostly smoke from braziers and the rustle of silk as nobles swept past in their elaborate gowns. Nicoli slipped between a veiled woman and her partner, her jewelry chiming softly as she turned. "Pardon me," he murmured—half out of habit, half out of desperation that clawed at his throat.The words barely registered past his lips. He was drowning in sensation: the warm pulse of firelight painting everything amber and gold, the fire pits crackling like distant thunder, the chill from the open patio doors that made the marble floor bite through his thin-soled shoes. But the cold was nothing compared to the fire racing through his veins.He wasn't cold. He was burning.He was close.His shoes made soft, measured taps against the marble—a rhythm far too controlled for his pulse, which hammered against his ribs like a caged bird desperate for flight. The thunderous beating should have drowned out everythi
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 48 Eyes On Me
Chapter 48 Eyes On Me*Hidi*Chapter 48Hidi trying to properly introduce Nicoli to her mom again but Nicoli is distracted by AnaEnds up dancing with Pendwick insteadGoes to sulk with her momGetting annoyed at Ana for hogging NicoliHidiLaughter bubbled up again from Hidi's throat like fine champagne—deep, rich, and unmistakably hers. The sound carried a tremor of victory, of finally having everything exactly as it should be. Her skirts flared wide with each step, the emerald velvet catching candlelight like captured starfire. The weight of the fabric against her legs felt like armor, like power made tangible. She loved the way it drew eyes—the sharp intake of breath from onlookers, the involuntary step backward. Loved even more the way people scrambled to get out of her way.The vampires danced as if afraid of their own sleeves—stiff-backed, too dignified, too correct. Every movement measured to the point of suffocation. Every step more tradition than joy, their bodies held so ri
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 47 Nine Years Of Planning
*Ana*The fire cracks with a violent snap, splitting the silence like bone breaking. Wood collapses in on itself behind me, sending a constellation of sparks spiraling upward into the smoky darkness. For one searing moment, the nearest hearth blazes too bright—casting liquid gold across the marble floor, illuminating the exact spot where she stood just heartbeats ago.As if the flames themselves bear witness to injustice. As if I'm not the only one who sees it.Naska is gone without another word. No fight. No weeping. No desperate plea for mercy. Just... nothing. The absence of her cuts deeper than any scream would have.I can't tear my eyes away from her retreat—watching her tall, angular frame disappear through the towering silver-and-glass doors like smoke dissipating into winter air. Her shoulders are drawn back with the rigid precision of a soldier facing execution, thread stretched so taut across a loom that one more pull would snap it entirely. Each step she takes is measured,
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 46 She Missed
*Naska*Naska's pale red eyes flicked upward at any movement by the entrances, her pale fingers tightening around her glass until her knuckles went white. Each flutter of fabric, each shadow crossing the threshold, made her heart lurch with desperate hope—that it would finally be him. That, at last, her love would arrive. But each hopeful glance was dashed just as quickly as it came, leaving her chest hollow and aching. The number of false alarms had become so common that Naska could feel her own excitement waning like a dying flame. Yet, her longing for Mykhol remained as strong as ever, a constant throb beneath her ribs.Standing alone was agony. Her bare feet, clad only in simple leather slippers, shifted restlessly against the cold marble floor. The rough muslin of her tunic—new for the occasion, felt suddenly shabby against her skin as she watched the noble ladies glide past in their rich furs and velvets. The soft corduroys of their gowns whispered secrets she'd never know, whil
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 45 The One Who Doesn't Belong
*Bruno* The scent of wine and roasted meat turned to ash in Bruno's mouth the moment he saw him.Through the ballroom's towering glass doors, past the writhing mass of silk-draped nobles and their glittering jewelry that caught candlelight like fractured stars, a shadow had fallen across the moonlit terrace. Not just any shadow—this one had substance, weight, the kind of presence that made the very air seem to thicken and curdle.Nine years. Nine years of nightmares that left him gasping in sweat-soaked sheets, of healing bones that still ached when storms rolled in, of growing tall and lean and sharp-edged like a blade forged in fear. Nine years of learning to move like smoke through palace halls, to disappear into corners and doorways, to become invisible when survival demanded it. And still—still—Bruno's blood recognized that silhouette before his conscious mind could catch up.The way the man's shoulders cut through lamplight like the edge of an executioner's axe. The predatory s
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 44 Behind The Fur
*Ana*“Mykhol,” I breathe, still dazed by the sight of him. Joy bubbles up from somewhere deep in my chest, effervescent and overwhelming. "You came!" I laugh—the sound bright and giddy, spilling out before I can contain it—as I take a step forward on unsteady legs. "It was getting so late, I almost gave up on you."He lingers at the edge of the lantern-light like a figure stepped from shadow itself, framed by the golden spill of illumination from the palace windows. The warm glow catches the sharp angles of his face, casting him half in light, half in mystery. Beyond the glass doors, muffled conversation and music still echo—crystal chiming against crystal, the honeyed pull of a cello drawing hearts into its melody. But here in the garden, the cold air bites at my exposed arms with gentle teeth, and the dormant bushes sway with the night wind as though the very world holds its breath just for us."You act as though I would miss my little Ana's grand celebration." His voice flows like
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