All Chapters of My Hatred, My Soulmate : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The silence after Damon's outburst is thick. Heavy. It clings to the ruins around them like toxic smoke, suffocating and inescapable. Chunks of concrete and twisted metal lie scattered across what was once a pristine beautiful mansion meant for Damon and Serena's supposedly honeymoon, now a battlefield graveyard. The destruction feels almost alive—a silent witness to the confrontation unfolding in its midst. Mobius doesn't speak right away. He just stares at his son, not with rage or offense—but something infinitely worse. Amusement. A slow, almost indulgent smirk curls across his aristocratic face, the kind of expression one might wear while watching a child throw a tantrum in the middle of a royal hall. His eyes, cold and calculating as winter midnight, scan Damon with clinical detachment, as if trying to decide whether this unprecedented display of defiance was brave… or just pathetically human. The contempt in his gaze is unmistakable—centuries of unquestioned authority compre

The dust has barely settled, hanging suspended in beams of fractured light that pierce through the collapsed sections of ceiling.The building is a shell of what it was—walls cracked and splintered like brittle bones, furniture reduced to unrecognizable ruins, and the air heavy with the acrid sting of scorched magic that burns the nostrils with every breath. Ancient power lingers, a toxic residue clinging to every surface. But Frederick's eyes aren't on the wreckage surrounding them. They're locked on Serena—his daughter, his blood—with an intensity that could burn through steel.She lies still, her body cradled in Luna's arms like something precious and broken beyond repair. Her skin is ghostly pale against the dark fabric of Luna's clothes, her chest rising and falling in uneven rhythms. Luna kneels beside them, her slender hands hovering just above Serena's face, fingertips trembling with concentration. Her lips move in silent incantations—ancient words passed down through generati

The forest is unnaturally still, as if the very air has frozen in anticipation of some unspeakable event.Thick, serpentine mist coils around the gnarled roots of ancient trees as Isabella moves deeper into the woods at the far end of the city, her long dark gown trailing like spilled ink over the carpet of dead leaves. The fabric whispers against the forest floor, a sound too delicate for the malevolence that radiates from her slender form. Shadows crowd her from every angle, pressing against her skin like curious spectators, but she doesn't flinch. Not tonight. The searing pain in her chest is too consuming, drowning out all lesser fears.She grits her teeth, jaw muscles flexing visibly beneath her pale skin, each step sharp with fury and frustration that pulses from her like a beacon. The forest itself seems to shy away from her presence, branches curling back as she passes.Her mind, restless and raw, replays the moment again and again in vivid, excruciating detail—Serena suspende

SERENA'S POVI count seconds. Minutes. Hours, maybe. The ticking clock on the wall becomes my only focus as I've stopped listening to the lecture entirely. My fingers tap relentlessly against the polished wooden desk—an impatient, staccato rhythm that's driving Cassidy crazy beside me, though she's too polite to say much beyond the occasional sigh and pointed glance. My eyes flick nervously from the analog clock to the window, where I spot one of the black-suited shadows stationed across the sun-drenched courtyard. Another bodyguard, stiff as a statue, lurks near the gym entrance, his eyes constantly scanning the perimeter. Yet another one positions himself strategically behind the library, almost blending into the shadows of the building. All of them here for me—watchful, vigilant, suffocating.I grit my teeth until my jaw aches. The realization sits heavy in my chest: I'm a prisoner in my own school, surrounded by walls both visible and invisible."Serena," Cassidy whispers, her war

SERENA'S POV The air feels too still, unnaturally suspended in time and space.The library—usually quiet, yes, but never like this—has taken on a heavy, oppressive silence. A silence that presses against my eardrums and weighs on my shoulders like an invisible burden. My pulse is slowing to an ominous crawl, my breath shaky and uneven, and I finally notice the subtle environmental changes that my anger has triggered: the way the floorboards creaked earlier under invisible pressure, the faint hum of old wiring now fallen silent, the way dust motes have stopped swirling in the golden streams of late afternoon light that slice through the tall windows. It's not just quiet in here.It's frozen. Suspended in amber. Time itself seems to hesitate.Because of me. Because of what I am. What I've become.Cassidy leans in close, her warm breath tickling my ear, her voice a hushed whisper brushing just beneath the oppressive silence. "Serena," she murmurs, her eyes darting nervously to the human