Semua Bab Alpha Draven's Regret: The Return of His Rejected Mate: Bab 51 - Bab 60

Nyra’s POVThe land was changing.Not just the soil or the scent of the wind, but the way it felt underfoot. Every morning I walked through the garden before the sun had fully risen, toes brushing the damp grass, palms skimming the leaves. I didn’t know if it was instinct or something deeper, but I could feel it. The pulse of something ancient stirring.Every flower that bloomed out of season whispered of things beyond our control. The sickness that had crept like a shadow through our borders was retreating, but its memory clung to us.Even in the moments of calm, I didn’t forget how easily it had slipped in.Inside the estate, I kept to a quiet rhythm. I learned what I could from the old scrolls in the studies. The ones Draven never touched, not out of neglect but because they were written in a dialect most had long forgotten. The Seer had once told me knowledge would be my greatest armor, and I took those words to heart.Power, no matter how potent, can be stripped away. But wisdom?

Nyra's POVSmoke and magic veiled the sky when I reached the western lines. Arrows flew through the air with the deadly hisses of angry serpents and the chill ring of steel crashed like war drums echoing over the valley. Our warriors held their ground with unshakable determination, solid blocks as if they had danced this dance a thousand times, every step plotted, every eye unflinching.And in a way, we did.Every year of suffering, every sickness that had befallen our children, every betrayal by those who had considered themselves friends, we had fought for years before Kael's armies came to our sacred ground. This was merely the latest battle in an ancient war.I took a step forward, my feet planted firm, calling upon the earth below us with a voice that vibrated from deep within me. The earth responded eagerly, as though anticipating my command. Vines burst forth from the ground, tough and thorny like the warders of yore, ensnaring the legs of marauding rogues with merciless inte

Nyra's POVThe courtyard remained, in hues of ash and gold. The sun was not so much gone, but drawing close, extending shadows, folding light quietly into crevices. I stood with my back against the stone railing, gazing out over the hills of the west as the clouds crept like weary soldiers returning from war. The ancient stone in my hands retained the heat of the day, rough and pitted from rain, wind and war through the centuries.It was the first time I had anything close to peace in days. Weeks, maybe. Time had lost its direction, each sunrise bleeding into evening without option.I wrapped my arms around my waist, not because I felt cold but because I needed to find some reassurance that something was holding me together. The tunic caught on the calluses of my palms, palms that had gripped swords, drawn maps and buried friends.Everything was falling back into place. The wind, the ground, the individuals. Auren was changing into another person, shedding his previous self like a sn

Nyra's POVThe moon bled. That was the first thing I noticed when I stepped out onto the balcony late that night.A cold wind moved through my hair, holding a strange smell, something metallic, old, and almost bitter.Like wet copper coins mixed with the scent of leaves that had started to rot. I looked up, glancing at the sky in the growing darkness.The moon, usually full and bright, now hung under a strange shadow. A deep rusty red glow wrapped around it like an open wound, pulsing with a rhythm that did not feel natural.My heartbeat picked up. It looked like a lunar eclipse, but it did not feel right. Not like the ones from the books with their diagrams and timing.Not like the ones people talk about in stories, calling them rare and beautiful. This felt different.The air itself felt heavier, like it was pressing down on my skin.I felt it in my bones, a kind of wrongness that was more than what I could see or smell.It was like the world had paused and was holding its breath.D

Nyra's POVThe meeting room was colder than usual.Maybe it was just me, still carrying the aftershocks of the red eclipse and the way it poisoned the land beneath our feet. Or maybe it was the way every person in the room wore tension, like an extra layer of clothing, silent, grim, and waiting for orders.Draven stood at the head of the table, arms crossed over his chest, face shadowed with exhaustion. Still, his voice was steady.“We were attacked,” he began simply. “Not in our body, but in balance. And that is worse. It means someone is thinking long-term. Someone understands our connection to this land and is trying to sever it.”He paused and looked at each of us, the council elders, patrol leads, the healers, and me.“So we split our focus. One group investigates the magic: source, intent, patterns. The other group reinforces the land. Rituals, balance restoration, anything we can do to stop further decay.”No one questioned him. Not today. Not after what we’d seen.Draven turne