Semua Bab The Healer's Bond : Bab 161 - Bab 170

Emma and Steve silently left the forest more troubled with themselves as ever before.Emma had gone to heal the forest but had seen something that had blown her mind. She was beginning to think that Steve had secretly done her a favor by rejecting her five years ago.She should have cherished those five years but instead she had used them to get angry and rejected. She could not believe that this was the trouble she was going through just to be with him."I can see the pain in your face," Steve said with concern. "What is going on in that mind?""I thought my life was difficult when you rejected me but now that I am back in your life, it's been one adventure after the other," Emma said.Steve's expression turned pained. "I understand if you are tired of me, Emma, you really do not owe me anything."Emma turned to Steve and saw how her words had affected him. They were out of the forest now and closer to the pack.She held his large powerful arm in her hand and pulled him towards her.

"It all began with the Pale circle," Alexander beganSteve hadn’t moved from the couch since the last revelation. His elbows dug into his knees, his hands clutched tightly around his head. The weight of everything bore down on him. The room, once filled with heavy silence, now held a deeper tension. A warning.Emma stood near the edge of the pentagram, staring at the ghost within it. Alexander still wore that maddening smirk, even though he was nothing more than a cursed memory bound by blood and magic.Then, as if summoned by something unspoken, Emma’s voice broke the stillness.“The Pale Circle.”The name escaped her lips like a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.Steve looked up sharply, his green eyes reddened with confusion. “What did you say?”Emma turned to him, her voice steadier now. “The Pale Circle. A creature told me about it back in the forest. I have heard about it before."Alexander’s smirk deepened. His green eyes held a sharp glint, cold and sharp like a dag

The rhythmic hum of the rotors echoed through the metal shell of the helicopter, a steady thrum that filled the cabin like a heartbeat. From her seat beside Steve, Emma stared out the small window, watching the world blur beneath them as they cut through the sky toward Moon Valley. Clouds shifted like torn parchment above the distant mountains, and the wind occasionally jostled the aircraft with invisible fingers.She had always thought of the sky as a place of peace—open, endless, free. But now, thousands of feet above a crumbling world, her chest was tight with unease.Steve’s hand moved from the control stick briefly, brushing hers. “You’ve gone quiet,” he said, his voice calm but not without concern. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”Emma gave a slow blink, then turned from the window. The expression on her face made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for pretending. “I’m wondering if I’m ready for whatever she’s going to tell me.”Steve arched a brow but kept his eyes trained

Pain had faded into a dull ache, then into something almost imperceptible—like the ghost of a memory lingering behind her ribs. Emma lay in the ash-streaked grass beside the broken helicopter wreckage, her breathing slow and steady, her senses sharpening with every minute that passed. The gash along her arm had already begun to close. Torn flesh stitched itself back together with silent resolve, muscles knitting beneath her skin as her blood worked its ancient magic. The swelling in her leg had receded, the bones aligning and locking in place like puzzle pieces finding their way home. Nearby, Steve grunted as his shoulder snapped into its socket with a sickening pop. His face contorted with pain for only a heartbeat before it eased. His chest rose and fell steadily, bare skin streaked with drying blood and ash. “Wolves,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Built like nightmares, heal like miracles.” Emma

The world felt colder as they ran. Emma's grey wolf paws barely made a sound against the moss and dirt, but her heart thundered. Every breath she took carried the scent of mist, damp earth, and something older — a magic so deep it clung to her fur like frost. Steve ran ahead, his midnight black coat cutting through the trees like a shadow in motion. Behind them, the clash of centaur and minotaur steel echoed through the valley, brutal and desperate. The roar that had signaled the ambush still rang in Emma's ears. But they couldn’t look back. They bounded over fallen trunks and leapt through the brush, the forest narrowing until the trees formed an arch above them. Emma’s muscles burned, her healing still incomplete, but her instincts pushed her forward. Something was calling her. She didn’t know whether it was her bloodline, her father’s curse, or simply fate — but it was undeniable. They reached a