Semua Bab The mafia’s captive : Bab 121 - Bab 130

The thunder rolled in without warning — not a storm of nature, but of something older, heavier. Over the skyline of New York, black clouds twisted into unnatural shapes. The city’s lights flickered.Cassie stood at the nursery window, hand on her belly, watching the world shift. Three-year-old Cassian stirred in his bed, muttering in his sleep, while Elias stood protectively at the doorway, his hand gripping the knife Bain had gifted him last year.In the distance, a sudden shriek pierced the air. Sirens followed. Powerlines sparked.Cassie turned just as the lights died.Downstairs, the mansion’s emergency systems kicked on, but the cameras began to glitch. Shadows moved just beyond the front gate — not people, not entirely. Some crawled. Some floated. Some weren’t touching the ground at all.It had begun.Forty miles north, Bain, Vulture, Sokolov, and Petrov raced through the ruins of a hidden monastery buried into the side of a mountain. Intelligence from Seraphine revealed this pl

Far in the mountains of Georgia, nestled behind the overgrown remnants of a monastery, stood a small, ivy-covered orphanage built centuries ago by priests who once held dominion over forgotten spirits. The children inside — barely thirty of them — were descendants of bloodlines that once helped seal the darkness now awakening again.Tonight, it was quiet.Until the trees began to bleed.At exactly midnight, the wind howled, not with air — but with whispers.The door opened without hands.Inside, Sister Elena clutched her crucifix as black tendrils slid under the floorboards. Her breath turned to frost. The holy water on her table hissed and evaporated.Then came the footsteps.Valeria stood in the doorway, draped in red velvet and bone beads, her feet blackened by ritual burns. Her eyes glowed not with fire, but with mourning. She moved like something remembered by nightmares.“Sister,” she said. “I’ve come to unmake a tether.”“Leave these children!” the nun gasped.Valeria merely sm

The Dream-SpaceElias stood on a hill made of bones.The sky bled violet above him, swirling with black crows and soft whispers. Everything beneath his feet pulsed, as if the very bones remembered pain. He was barefoot, clothed in ash. Ahead stood the boy — Matias.His twin in age. His opposite in light.Matias wore a tattered white tunic and a necklace of finger bones. His violet eyes glowed. But his mouth never moved.Elias felt the pull — a connection like a wire twisted tight between them.And then Matias spoke, though his lips never parted.“Come home, brother.”Elias stepped forward. The air grew thick with memories not his own: women screaming, steel doors slamming, the quiet hum of a surgical table. The children Valeria broke.“No,” Elias said. “You’re not my brother. You’re her weapon.”Matias moved fast — too fast. He appeared inches from Elias’s face, knife drawn from his rib like bone snapped free.“You were supposed to be one of us.”He slashed.Elias ducked, rolled, and

Corsican Sanctuary – The Lower Crypt“Stop fidgeting,” Seraphina snapped, placing a hand over Cassian’s chest. “The threads are sensitive.”Cassian stared up at her, utterly calm now, despite the circle of salt and smoke surrounding him. The three-year-old had settled in the middle of the ritual diagram, clutching his father’s rosary — a black-beaded piece once soaked in blood, now repurposed for hope.Bain crouched beside him, one knee on the ground, fists clenched on his thighs.“I don’t like this,” he murmured.“None of us do,” Seraphina said, her hair wild, skin streaked in ash. “But if Valeria links herself to him before we can break the connection… she’ll consume him from within.”Cassie stood near the doorway, flanked by Elias and Petrov.She clutched her belly protectively, her gaze steady. “Do it.”Cassian looked up at Seraphina. “Will it hurt?”Her hard exterior cracked just slightly. “No, little storm. But you must speak her name. Only once. With love. Then say ‘no.’”Cassi

I. The Whisper in Elias’s MindThe first time it whispered his name, Elias thought he was dreaming.“Eliasss…”A voice like old paper tearing.He opened his eyes to the dark ceiling of his room, heart pounding. Cassian was curled beside him, snoring softly, one small foot pressed to Elias’s side. Their parents’ voices murmured downstairs — Cassie laughing, Bain teasing her about craving honey on pickles.He tried to go back to sleep.Then it came again.“She gave you to me.”Elias sat up so fast the bed creaked. Cold air flooded in, despite the warmth of the protective wards.He tried to speak, but the room was wrong. Warped. Shadows bent in directions they shouldn’t. The mirror across the room didn’t reflect him — it showed a boy made of smoke, hollow eyes glowing faintly red.“Who are you?” Elias whispered.“I am the debt your blood owes. I am the King beneath thrones.”Elias scrambled from bed, pulling Cassian with him, arms wrapped protectively around his baby brother. He screamed