All Chapters of One Night Stand With My Boyfriend’s Twin: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Roots that Bite Back Selena's POV Snow fell through the orchard ruins like ash shaken from the bones of an old god. Selena stood at the mouth of the root cellar, boots planted in the half-frozen muck that oozed down from the broken orchard trench above. Around her, wolves moved in near-silence , stacking the last bodies into piles under the blackened trees, dragging old barrels of pitch to seal the drain mouth once the sun dipped low enough that Calor's scouts wouldn't see the smoke. Her cloak weighed a hundred pounds, stiff with dried blood and slush that wouldn't melt. She could taste the tunnel's oil smoke on her tongue, feel the memory of iron under her nails from where she'd clawed her knife free of the last man's ribs hours before. The orchard roots had fed well tonight. Behind her, the keep's ragged walls loomed under a sky that looked ready to split its belly open and drown them all. She half-wished it would. A clean death, swallowed by snow and ice, sounded kinder than

The Price of the Final ThroatSelena's POVThe orchard trench was gone by dawn, swallowed by flame and frost and blood so deep it turned the snow to iron. Selena stood at the south ridge where the barricade had once snarled at the world. Now it was nothing but blackened timber and scorched brine barrels, their staves split open like bones cracked for the marrow.Her cloak hung heavy on her shoulders, the hem stiff where it had dragged through the marsh pit. She didn't feel the cold anymore. The burn on her wrist from the oil fire had split open again, but the sting was far away, a memory echoing under the hush that settled in her chest.Wolves moved around her, ghosts draped in scraps of fur and old chain. They no longer spoke to one another unless they had to , a nod here, the scrape of iron on timber there, the clatter of a new bracing beam dragged across the keep's open gate. Kieran's order. They would hold the orchard line until there was no orchard left to defend.Selena closed

The Orchard’s Teeth Remember Selena's POV When the last trench froze solid, the orchard felt like a grave that could breathe. Selena stood ankle-deep in the drifted snow just beyond the burnt orchard line, her boots half-buried in roots blackened by the pitch fires they'd lit to keep Calor's men out. Around her, the dawn was a bruise-colored hush , the sky a smear of dirty pink above the broken keep, the frost so thick on the scorched branches it looked like a forest of bone.She dragged her palm across the nearest stump, her skin catching on the charred bark. Once, this orchard had been the pride of the old kings , rows of silverleaf and blackroot trees that fed the house coffers when the snows refused the grain fields. Once, these roots were traded for crowns. Now they were just teeth sunk so deep in the frozen earth they'd outlast every crest, every vow, every grave the world tried to bury them in.She let her breath out slow. The hush swallowed it. No drumbeats this time. No

Where the Roots Grow Wild Selena's POV Long before the sun climbed the orchard ridge, Selena was awake. She hadn't slept , not truly , not since the vault fell and they burned the brine barrels that sealed Calor's hounds in a grave older than any crown. Now she crouched at the trench's edge, where the frost had crusted the churned mud into a spined lattice that cracked beneath her boots when she shifted her weight.The orchard was quiet in a way that scraped the inside of her skull raw. Quiet like a breath held too long. Like a promise she'd made when she slit Calor's throat under the chapel vault and let his blood seep into the roots that drank secrets better than any priest ever could.She dragged her blade through the snow, carving a ragged line where the brine barrels had once stood guard. The cut exposed black roots knotted in the frost-hardened soil , tiny filaments that twitched when the cold wind blew across them."You're hungry," she whispered. The hush swallowed her wo

The Marsh Where Kings Choke Kieran’s POV By the time the orchard frost melted enough to taste dirt again, the marsh was already whispering to the roots about the next crown that needed burying. Kieran stood waist-deep in the trench where the old brine pit had overflowed, boots sunk so far into the black muck that he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. All he could feel was the hush , that deep-bellied silence that made his pulse thud against his throat like a blade begging to bite. Overhead, the orchard’s bones creaked in the first thaw winds. The stumps, black and brittle from seasons of pitch fires and spilled blood, bent just enough to let the morning light slide across the marsh’s frozen reeds. It made the whole world look like a graveyard spun from glass. Behind him, wolves slogged through the sludge, dragging pitch barrels up from the chapel cellar where the last stores had been hidden beneath the altar’s cracked stone. Elric barked orders with a voice that rattled like brine-