Semua Bab ELDER'S BLOOD : Bab 91 - Bab 100

I style my hair in the bathroom mirror, carefully placing the pearl hairpins I salvaged from my family’s abandoned home. Each pin holds a memory — two cream-colored pearls, one soft pink, and one tinged with blue. They were a gift from my parents after my first shift — a moment I’ll never forget, no matter how much the present keeps shifting around me.A first shift is terrifying and unfamiliar, no matter how much adults try to soften the truth. They say it’s natural, that your body instinctively knows what to do. But reality is far from comforting. The change is a brutal, bone-snapping ordeal, and generations of Kane children, myself included, faced it blindly. The older kids tried to warn me, but my family sugarcoated it. Would it have been better if they hadn’t? Maybe. But if I’d known the pain waiting for me, I would’ve agonized over it for months beforehand.As I slide the last pin into place, I wonder if Vanda’s first shift was kinder. I hope it was. Maybe together, we can prepa

I stand in the middle of the large living room, hands on my hips, surveying the space. The luncheon needs to be perfect."There are two upholstered chairs in the other living room — I want them brought in here. Move the couches back to give people more room to walk around. And bring the side table too — we need enough space for plates and drinks," I instruct a guard who’s been pulled from his usual duties outside."Yes, Luna, I’ll move everything now," he replies without hesitation.Turning back to the room, I notice the grand, arched window’s curtains aren’t fully drawn back. I fix that, letting as much daylight as possible flood the space. Though it’s a cold, gray afternoon, the room needs to feel warm and welcoming."Elena!" Elizabeth’s voice calls from the kitchen.I make my way down the hall to find her, Ben, and Serena arranging platters of trimmed sandwiches, cubed fruits, sliced vegetables, cheeses, crackers, and other finger foods."We’re just about done," Ben says, sounding

Elena's point of view.With my back pressed against the cool bathroom wall, I wait for the nausea to pass. The bitter, metallic stench still lingers in my mind, so raw and fleshy — like rust and death. I shudder at the memory.Whose blood was on Vanda’s face? He’s been on edge during training, but it must’ve been a rogue’s. It has to be.I push myself off the floor and flush the toilet. There wasn’t much to throw up — my nerves over the luncheon had killed my appetite, leaving me with nothing but a few bites of fruit and cheese this morning. Still, the way my body convulsed felt like I’d emptied myself entirely.I rinse my mouth until the sour taste fades, then scrub my hands clean.“How are you feeling?” Elizabeth’s voice comes softly from the other side of the door. She must have stayed close. I open it to find her stepping back.“I think it’s passed.”Ben appears from the kitchen, offering me a small chocolate truffle. “For your breath,” he says with a smirk.I take it gratefully,

Elena's point of view We kiss for a long while until Vanda pulls away. I sense his inner struggle. His hands grip my hips tightly as he takes control, moving my body to his liking. I brace myself against the tub’s edge for balance. The shift in pace is sudden and intense, yet my body quickly adjusts. The only discomfort I feel is the pressure on my chest, so I use my arm to hold my sore breasts and keep them from bouncing.My jaw tightens, my eyes squeeze shut, and my moans turn into desperate whimpers. I try to focus, to grasp onto the kind of pleasure that could push me over the edge, but everything is happening too fast. The only thing I can process is Vanda’s urgent desire. He moves me faster, pushing deeper, until he suddenly stops, holding me firmly in place. He reaches his peak, and I realize how exhausted I feel despite him taking the lead. My heart pounds, my thighs ache. Finally, he releases my hips, and I slide off him.I collapse against Vanda, still facing him, resting m

Elena's point of view Just as Ben was wrapping up dinner, a knock echoed from the front door. I went to answer it and found a familiar face—the female courier who often brought messages to the pack house. She offered me a sealed letter addressed to Vanda and then turned away, heading off with the rest of her delivery pouch slung across her chest.I closed the door behind me and turned the letter over in my hands. The wax seal was pressed with a stylized ‘S’—most likely for Silva. That could only mean one thing: a response to the letters we sent.I broke the seal, unfolded the paper, and immediately recognized the tidy, graceful handwriting. It was from Corinne. She wrote to say she’d be traveling tomorrow and would arrive by evening.Returning to the kitchen, I found Ben pulling out three plates—one for each of us, including Serena, who was due any minute after her training session."Who was at the door?" he asked casually."It was a message from Corinne. She’s coming tomorrow," I re