บททั้งหมดของ Broken Bonds: Beyond Destiny: บทที่ 201 - บทที่ 210

BrightThe sound of her groan still drilled through my head. It was sharp, unlike anything I’d ever heard before, a cry that wasn’t just pain: it was fear. And I was the one who caused it.The scene from just minutes ago spun in my mind like a lightning flash that wouldn’t fade. My elbow hitting her cheek as I turned to face Dante. The shock in her eyes. And then, that strangled scream that froze my blood: the baby.Now, as I drove with my hands so tight my knuckles ached, I could only watch the rear-view mirror. James sat in the back with his arm around her. Sophia looked pale, too pale. Every time she flinched from another stab of pain, it felt like someone ripped my heart out.I wanted to say something, anything, but my throat closed up. The images kept replaying: Dante kneeling beside her, reaching out, and me… leaping like an animal, roaring at him not to touch her. I couldn’t bear him being close, not after all his insinuations, not after the way he looked at her. But now it all

SophiaI woke with a strange feeling, as if the morning were too quiet to be real. Pale, timid sunlight filtered through the curtains, and the room smelled of cold coffee and clean laundry. Instinctively, I reached for the right side of the bed, the space that had always been his, but my hand met only warm, empty sheets. Bright wasn’t there.It took a few seconds to remember why his absence surprised me so little. Since the doctor told us about the hematoma on the placenta, he had chosen to sleep on the sofa at the foot of the bed, saying it would give me more room to rest. But deep down, I knew he did it because he couldn’t bear to lie beside me. His guilt kept him at a distance. And I, despite my anger, felt that distance as a silent weight on my chest.I sat up carefully, feeling the tightness in my belly. Bed rest was mandatory, and every movement reminded me I couldn’t afford mistakes. I turned my head toward the sofa. There he was, wrapped in a gray blanket, one leg dangling, hi

Sophia The kitchen clock read almost nine at night, and my parents’ house was enveloped in a strange silence, as if even the walls were holding their breath. I had spent the entire day without hearing anything from Bright. Not a message, not a call. Only the memory of the nightmare that had shaken me the previous morning. Dante plunging a knife into Bright’s chest, the dark blood, my muffled screams. I kept telling myself it was just a dream, a consequence of so many tense days, but the image kept burning behind my eyelids every time I closed them. I clutched the teacup in my hands, searching for warmth I couldn’t find in my own body. The front door slammed open, and I jumped, almost dropping the cup. Bright appeared in the doorway. His jacket was damp, as if the afternoon drizzle had conspired with his bad mood. His blue eyes, usually bright, were two frozen stones. “Where have you been?” The question slipped from my lips before I could soften it. He didn’t bother answering imme

Bright Dawn was tinged with a cold gray, and the damp air slipped through the window as I rose from the bed. The room still smelled of a hospital, medicine, and tension. Sophia slept a little farther back, clutching the blanket to her chest. I looked at her, and for a moment I felt a mix of guilt and lingering resentment; it was palpable, and I couldn’t blame her. I was even surprised at how quickly my anger could overflow, and the thought that I had hurt her still burned inside me. James appeared in the room silently, his face serious. “Bright, we need you to come with us to the forest,” he said, pointing to a group already ready to leave. “Dante will lead the mission, and we need you there. Ten of our best men will accompany the operation.” A shiver ran down my spine. Working alongside him, and with him leading, was a torment I couldn’t ignore. But the order was clear. “Understood,” I replied, my voice firmer than I felt. “I’ll go with you.” Sophia woke at that moment, rubbin

SophiaThe sun was just beginning to filter through the curtains when I opened my eyes. The faint light painted the room in a bluish gray, and the silence weighed like a damp blanket. Beside me, the bed was empty. The space where Bright should have been was still warm, but he wasn’t there. The soft sound of his breathing came from the sofa: he was sleeping there, as he had the past few nights.I stayed still, watching his silhouette. His broad, strong body seemed smaller, as if sleep had reduced him to a defenseless boy. It hurt to see him like that, his brow furrowed even in rest. Somewhere in my heart, anger mingled with an inevitable tenderness. I loved him, but the wound from his jealousy, from that fight with Dante, was still open.I slid a hand over my belly, caressing the slight curve that protected our baby. The hematoma was still there—I knew it. The doctor had said rest was essential, and I clung to each breath, wishing the life inside me would endure.I remembered the night