บททั้งหมดของ Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation : บทที่ 161 - บทที่ 169

Days passed, and the pattern didn’t change.Castelle was doing better — her laughter had returned, though it sometimes carried the faintest tremor. Lyra, however, was fraying at the edges. She still attended her training and therapy sessions, but she moved like someone holding her breath underwater. She moved like she walked on egg shells, afraid of drawing attention to herself.Lucien saw it. He saw everything.The sleepless eyes. The trembling hands. The way she pressed her palm to her belly sometimes, as if to remind herself the life inside her was still there. The way she curled when they were in bed together, or how she took some much time in the bath and her body would sometimes be pink but Lyra always brushed him off. In Lucien's heart he sincerely hoped it wasn't what it looked like. He cut her some slack expecting her to come to him when the whole thing got hard and unbearable for her.Breakfast came like any other day.The family gathered around the long mahogany table. Sunl

The week after the courtyard gathering, the mansion carried a strange quiet — not heavy, not sad, but full.The healer stayed a few more days, moving through the halls like an unseen guardian. Every morning, she brewed her bitter teas in the kitchen while Mason teased her that she made the house smell “like old trees and forgotten dreams.”She would laugh, shake her head, and tell him, “That’s the smell of healing, little one. Don’t get too used to it — peace never stays forever.”Kane had started sleeping again.Not much — two, maybe three hours a night — but it was something. Castelle noticed the difference in his face: the sharp edges of exhaustion softening into the quiet lines of a man relearning peace.He still woke sometimes drenched in sweat, reaching for her. But now, when his hands trembled, she didn’t stop them. She simply held them still until his breathing evened.“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured one night, voice low against her skin. “Maybe we can have this. A life. Wit

The sky wept first.A steady, unrelenting rain fell over the courtyard as the black flags of the Salvatore crest fluttered half-mast against the gray dawn. The air was heavy with silence — the kind that pressed on the chest and refused to lift.Rows of coffins lined the courtyard, draped in the family’s sigil: a silver vine intertwined with a burning crown. The scent of wet soil mixed with the faint tang of gunpowder still lingering from the war that had razed the mansion only days before.Kane stood at the front, dressed in black from neck to boots. His expression was unreadable — calm, composed, but the vein at his temple pulsed steadily. Castelle was beside him, her rounded belly visible beneath her black coat, her hand gripping his tightly.Lucien and Matteo stood a few feet behind, both in silent mourning. Rem’s face was hidden under his umbrella, his jaw tight, eyes red but unblinking.The priest’s voice echoed through the rain. “They stood in the shadow of death… and did not f

The rain came softly that morning, steady and unbroken, as though the sky itself mourned.Everyone stood beneath black umbrellas in the courtyard, faces solemn as the coffins were lowered into the earth. The names etched into the plaques belonged to those who had fallen during Delilah’s last assault — men who had given their lives to defend the Abyss Mansion.Kane stood front and center, his expression carved from stone. Castelle, her rounded belly visible even beneath her dark dress, clutched his arm. When the priest spoke the final words, she lowered her head and whispered a silent prayer, lips trembling.Lucien stood a few feet away, one hand resting protectively on Lyra’s back. Matteo had an arm around Mason, whose face was pale but alive — his laughter, his energy, his fire all dimmed, but his heart still beating.When the last shovel of dirt hit the coffins, the rain eased. No words were said. The family turned away quietly — mourning not just those they buried, but everything t