All Chapters of Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The valley’s stillness was a fragile mask, the air thick with the fading echo of the Architect’s voice and her scream—my scream—still ringing in my ears. The mark on my chest pulsed, a dull ache now, but alive, tying me to her, to him, to the Veil and its war. The dagger lay in my hand, its symbols dim but warm, a silent vow of battles yet to come. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his steady pulse, my fraying courage, our unbreakable tether—but it couldn’t erase the truth: I was the heart of a conflict older than the pack, older than me, and the city beyond the Veil was only the beginning.We stood in the mud, battered and bloodied, the stones behind us dark, their runes extinguished, the spiral’s glow gone. Lucian’s hand rested on my shoulder, his silver eyes fierce despite the blood streaking his face, his wounds untended but ignored. “We need to get back,” he said, his voice rough, cutting through the valley’s quiet. “The pack’s vulnerable, and we need answers—about the nodes, the Arc

The forest’s edge was a jagged line between us and the pack’s compound, its smoke curling into a sky bruised with fading violet, the last trace of the fracture’s glow. The mark on my chest pulsed, a steady ache tying me to her—my shadow—and now to the other me, the spark, standing beside me, her blue eyes mirroring my exhaustion, her shard glowing faintly in her trembling hand. The dagger at my hip was warm, its symbols dim but alive, a quiet reminder of the power we’d wielded—and the cost. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce heartbeat, my fraying resolve, our shared determination—but it couldn’t silence the Architect’s voice, "bring them to me", or her laugh, "you’re mine", still echoing in my bones. We’d pushed them back, but the war was closing in, and we were running out of time.Lucian’s hand rested on my arm, his silver eyes scanning the trees, blood crusted on his face, his wounds raw but ignored. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice low, rough from the fight. “The pac

The Cradle swallowed us whole, the tear’s violet light spitting us onto a plateau of black stone, its surface veined with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The air was heavy, charged, not with the city’s metallic tang but something older—earth, blood, time itself. The mark on my chest burned, syncing with the dagger in my hand and the shard in Lyra’s grip, their symbols flaring in unison, tying us to this place, to the Veil’s first node, its forge. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce resolve, my trembling courage, our shared defiance—but it couldn’t drown out the flame’s voice, it’s time, or the shadow’s distant laugh, a cold thread weaving through my blood. The trinity—lock, spark, flame—was here, and the Cradle was waking, its echoes stirring, ready to test us.Lucian stood close, his blade drawn, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning the plateau’s edges, where cliffs dropped into a void—not sky, but chaos, stars and shadows churning, the Veil’s raw edge

The pack’s compound rose like a fortress from the forest’s embrace, its wooden walls battered but unyielding, torches blazing against the creeping dusk. The air was cold, heavy with the scent of pine and the faint metallic tang of the city’s lingering echo, a reminder of the mirror’s chaos, the void’s white eyes, and her scream—my scream—still clawing at my mind. The mark on my chest pulsed, a relentless tether to the shadow, to the flame, to the void, and now to Lyra, the spark, walking beside me, her shard glowing faintly, her blue eyes—my eyes—etched with the same dread and determination I felt. The dagger in my hand was warm, its symbols flickering, syncing with her shard, binding us to the Veil’s fractured heart. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce heartbeat, my unraveling courage, our shared resolve—but it couldn’t silence the truth: the trinity was a lie, not three but four—lock, spark, flame, void—and the choice, one stays, one guards, one ends, was a weight I could bar

The Abyss swallowed us, the black path beneath our feet pulsing with a cold, relentless hum that vibrated through my bones. The desert was gone, replaced by a vast, endless void where stars flickered like dying embers, their light swallowed by shadows that moved, not random but alive, watching. The mark on my chest burned, a fierce tether to the shadow, the flame, the void, and Lyra, the spark, who walked beside me, her shard glowing faintly, her blue eyes, my eyes, wide with fear but unyielding. The dagger in my hand felt alive, its symbols flaring, syncing with her shard, binding us to the Veil’s edge, its heart. The bond with Lucian thrummed, his steady heartbeat anchoring my spiraling dread, our shared defiance a fragile shield against the chaos closing in. The keepers’ visions haunted me: one stays, one guards, one ends, one breaks. The trinity, now four, was ours, and the Abyss was its final test.Lucian led, his blade drawn, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning