Semua Bab THE CAPTIVE'S LOVE: Bab 61 - Bab 70

"Touch what is mine, not." Emereah's voice was cracked like lightning. Bare slaps resounded as she barefooted it across the marble, but she appeared to be volcanic, she was so immovable. "You do not lay hands on what is mine."Gossips spread like fire consuming dry ground."Your Lady Emereah—" the Beta began."I am Luna," she mocked him, her eyes iced with fire-like frost. "Say my title correctly, or farewell to tongue."The Beta bowed forthwith, droplets of perspiration at temples. "Yes, Luna."Vladimir had had his fill at last.He stood, deep, commanding voice. "Emereah. With me. At once."Her eyes stabbed him. The fire faded—but lingered. "Why? To protect her?""Now."Her jaw was clenched. And then, like a sulky mollified child who scorned anything but a precious toy, she walked to his side and curled her fingers around his. She clung like ivy—slow, elegant, stifling.They moved silently through the castle corridors until the doors to their own room softly creaked shut behind them.

The fire now had a name.Emereah.It was not only in her eyes, or in the touch of her hands, or in the whisper of Vladimir's name like a prayer gone sour—it was present in the very air she surrounded herself with. A slow-consuming, unstoppable blaze that consumed everyone too close to her into dust.And Vladimir?He was already ablaze.He sat in the window of the eastern wing at dawn, the sky still bruised from night, gazing over her sleeping form on the divan. She had insisted on remaining near him, refused to let him sleep in his own rooms, had cried when he'd even spoken of it.And there she was now.Serene. Beautiful. Deadly.Her lips curled once in sleep, and she murmured something—his name, maybe. Or a threat. With her nowadays, there was no difference.Helena slipped in behind him, holding a creased report."She broke Mireille's arm," she breathed."I know.""She threatened another noble's mate in the corridor. We had to postpone the afternoon audience.""I know."Helena stood

The eastern wing no longer spoke secrets—it bellowed them through stone and glass and memory.Emereah stood frozen before the massive glass doors, where the morning sun cut through like a blade. Her fingertips rested at the edges of the silver ringed bracelets on her wrists—those accursed lunar cuffs. Today, they pulsed—not as wildly as before, but enough to betray the war brewing beneath her skin.They were waking.And so did she.Not in flames of fire. Not with fists or rage. But with something more subtle. Deadlier.It was in the quiet of her fingers when she spoke to the guards.In the lack of stuttering in her voice when she gave an order.And when a servant quailed at her passing, she didn't draw back.She smiled.Not to comfort. Not to threaten.But because she no longer dreaded what she was becoming.She was Luna.And it was time the whole court understood what that was.The council chamber was slow to assemble—no invitation had been sent out.That was deliberate.She wanted t

Helena's silence dragged out long and heavy, its weight bearing down on the stone walls of the chamber like a condemnation. Her lips parted ever so slightly, but it took her a moment for the words to emerge—when they did, they were as heavy as centuries."I never asked for your thanks," she said finally, her voice low. "Only your survival."Survival?" Laughter, bitter and furrowed. "Survival?" "I've been wiped out." A puppet stretched on silks and lies, and a tiara of a name that was never mine. Tell me, Helena, is that mercy?" The fragment of the scroll in her trembling fingers quivered like cut wings.This—this spell? This curse that's consumed my memories, broken my mind, trapped my soul? You saw when they applied these shackles to me. When they removed my name from history."Helena drew closer, her aged face creased in sorrow, not horror."I stood watch the night Altheya bled upon the altar for your protection," she panted. "I was there when your mother sealed your magic into you

Vladimir’s jaw tensed, the emotion behind his eyes unreadable. For a fleeting moment, it almost looked like regret—or obsession, twisted into longing.But Emereah stood her ground, the shattered bracelets at her feet still pulsing faintly with the remnants of broken spells. Her aura flared like the sun piercing through storm clouds—radiant, defiant, untamed.“I will never belong to you,” she said coldly. “And if you think a forced union means loyalty, then you’ve never understood what it means to be bound by the heart.”Before Vladimir could speak again, the heavy doors behind them burst open.“My lady!”A voice—hoarse, breathless, and shaking with disbelief—rang through the chamber.Emereah turned sharply.A young woman in a torn gray servant’s dress stumbled into the room. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her brown eyes wide with shock and hope. Her hands were trembling as she dropped to her knees.“My lady… you came back.”Emereah’s breath caught. Her heartbeat faltered for a m