Lahat ng Kabanata ng Mate Rebound : Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

Jasmine’s POV~I used to like how the academy smelled.Paper, candle wax, battered leather from too many books and boots. Each time I recognized the faintest scent of lavender clinging to the halls—probably an enchanted cleaning spell some student was using to gain merit points.And now everything smells like smoke.Even after the fires go out.Even though the war is over.Even though Tyler is dead.Even though I killed him.The whispers began on day two. The first day, walking into the library and three students whispered. Not quickly enough.“She’s the one who—”“Her father—”“I heard she didn’t even blink to do it.”I didn’t bother to correct them. Because they weren’t wrong.I didn’t blink.I returned to the library for day four. I sat in the back, behind the oldest rune indexes, near the rear and I hoped no one would notice me. But whenever anyone passed I’d see their gaze on me.As though I should be in the shadows, not in the sunlight.They didn’t say it, but I saw it in their f

Elara’s POV~The garden was silent that morning. With the sealed letter pressed against my hot skin, I leaned back on the stone seat. Sabrina’s rune shimmered faintly in the lamplight as if it were beating once more before dying for eternity. Lyra was with me, as ever, quiet, and observant. We were both silent as I broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.I noticed her handwriting first — sharp and pretty, the way her voice used to sound when she was trying too hard to sound aloof. The first few lines made my throat close.If you are reading this, I am not here. No excuses. No lies. Just the truth. I wasn’t supposed to get through this — not in the way that counts. But I wanted to leave some kind of legacy. More than a bad name and a bloodstained key.The letter was not long, but every word was soaked in clarity.You already know what I did. You know why I had to. But some never enjoyed such an option. Wolves like me. Like us. Not enemies. Not monsters. Just some lost parts of a war

Jasmine’s POV~Not all wolves growl when they are trapped.They scream.Kaiya’s howl shook the clearing. It wasn’t rage—it was desperation. Her eyes were blazing. There were wounds on her hands.I was the first to move.Not out of instinct. Out of recognition.I knew that kind of madness.The kind that has you scratch horrifying runes into your skin just to stay awake. Just to remember who you are. Only to out-scream that voice inside your head.“Don’t shift! Fucking hold…” Elara shouted toward Damien, whose hand had gone to a dart full of sedative already.“She’s unstable,” he said, never taking his gaze from the second wolf, a taller, darker shape that slammed along in the trees. “One wrong move, and we’re dead.”“She’s terrified,” I said, taking a step forward, my hands held up.Caspian grabbed my wrist. “Jasmine—”“I won’t hurt her,” I murmured. “I just … I think she’ll hear me.He didn’t let go right away. The movement of his fingers seemed to suggest that they wanted to say some

Elara’s POV~The voice resonated in the cave.“You are … the one”.We froze in place. Every fiber of my body ached to move, to unsheath my blade, to flee—but what good would any of that do us?Because the voice wasn’t that of a threat stalking its prey.It was uttered by someone who had already been broken.I looked at the other side of the room. Dim runes along the wall throbbed beneath the surface of the stone, showing the tiniest break in what would have appeared to be solid rock. But as we rounded a corner, the stone faded—an illusion, a flick of magic long dormant—and there, buried in a secret antechamber, was the cage.A sphere.Thick glass with a thousand-layered runes, a few of which were beginning to split. The containment magic glow was shallow and gave off a faint flickering. Inside, hanging in midair, in a swirl of pale energy, was a man.He was tall, broadly built, still too thin, and his skin was so pale it bordered on translucent. There were dull blue veins of light ru

Elara’s POV~Before sunrise, I found a letter under my bed.No name on it. No signature.But only some recently folded parchment with soft edges and still warm, like it’d been kept there not long ago.At first, I thought it might be from Jasmine or Lyra. Maybe my mother. Another update, another lead. But as soon as I opened the thing, I knew the truth.The handwriting.The slant of the letters, the pressure of the ink.Damien.The words were few.If you knew what I have done, I don’t think you’d let me continue to breathe next to you.There was no flourish. No plea. Only guilt, tightly packed into a sentence that felt like a wound.I read it once.Then again.I didn’t cry.Didn’t scream.Didn’t clench it into a ball that I threw into the fire or boiled up in my fists like I should have.I set it down neatly alongside my sword, instead.Because if Damien believed for one moment that I didn’t know what I saw in his eyes the last few weeks—the way he’d flinch if I got too close, and the