Semua Bab The Mate Games: Bab 71 - Bab 80

ASHERHer lips are soft.Softer than I remember. Warmer, too. Like summer wind and safety. Like everything I never let myself want.She doesn’t pull away.I don’t move either. Not at first. I just stay there, holding her mouth with mine, like that’s the only thing keeping me grounded.It kind of is.My hands are on her face. Her skin is smooth under my thumbs. She’s not saying anything. Not pushing me away. Not running.Oh goddess, she’s going to be my ruin. I thought she would run.But she’s right here.With me.I tilt my head just a little, deepening the kiss. My lips move over hers again, and I swear I can feel her breath hitch in her throat. One of her hands curls into the front of my shirt—tight, like she’s afraid if she lets go, I’ll disappear.Truth is, I might.Because this?This feels like a dream.But then she makes this tiny sound—like a sigh and a gasp mixed into one, and it breaks something in me.I pull back.Barely.Her forehead is still pressed to mine. Our breaths tan

Many decades ago…I don’t know what’s happening anymore.I don’t know who I can trust. I don’t even know if I trust myself.Everything was going fine today. Or… at least it seemed fine. I woke up early, like I’ve been trying to do, even though my body begged me to stay curled up in that cloud of a bed. The sun was barely up when I opened my curtains, and the garden below looked peaceful. The kind of peaceful that makes you think, just for a second, that maybe this place isn’t cursed.But peace never lasts long here.Breakfast was tense, like always. All the girls pretending to be friends while watching each other like hawks. Smiles that don’t reach their eyes. Compliments that sound more like threats. I don’t belong in this world of tight curls and tighter secrets.But I tried.I sat with a few of them. I nodded, I smiled. I even laughed at something Callista said, even though it wasn’t funny. She’s the one with the bright red hair and the voice like sugar-coated poison. Everyone list

ALTHEAThe air in the room is thick. Hot. Stale.I shift uncomfortably on the old wooden bench, the edge digging into the back of my thighs. My fingers twist together in my lap as I glance around. The room is underground, hidden behind the dusty cellar of a crumbling tailor’s shop in the lower quarter. The ceiling is low, beams heavy and sagging with time. Lanterns flicker on the walls, casting long shadows on the packed bodies inside.It’s louder than I expected.Voices rise all around me, angry, passionate, desperate.“They let it happen!” someone yells from the far end of the room. “The king knew the other faction was planning something and still did nothing! They want us fighting each other while they sit on their thrones in gold!”There are nods, growls of agreement, a fist slammed against a table.Aaron stands beside me, jaw tight, arms folded across his chest. His eyes flick to mine for a second—steady, warning me to stay quiet. But I don’t know if I can.Because they’re wrong.

ALTHEAI push the door open slowly, my breath caught in my throat. The room is dim, lit only by the moonlight spilling through the tall window. Shadows stretch across the floor. At first, I think I’m imagining things—just my nerves playing tricks after the night I’ve had.But then I see her.Caroline.She’s standing near my desk, holding something—no, moving something. Her back is to me, and she doesn’t seem startled at all by my sudden appearance.I blink, confused. “Caroline?”She turns around, her expression oddly blank. “Oh.” Her eyes trail down my clothes—still covered in soot and dirt from the tunnels. Her lips twitch into a small, sharp smile. “You’re back.”I take a cautious step forward. “What… are you doing in my room?”Caroline sets a folded piece of parchment back on the table. Her movements are slow. Too deliberate. “I was looking for you, actually,” she says. “When I noticed your door wasn’t locked, I thought I’d check if you were already inside.”I stare at her. “You th

ALTHEAThe throne room is colder than I expected.Stone walls loom high above, echoing with the quiet shuffle of footsteps as all the girls gather. We stand in neat rows, eyes on the throne, waiting. The air is heavy, filled with that strange mixture of boredom and anxiety that always comes before the king appears. I tell myself it’s just a routine check-in, a chance to show progress on our projects.But the moment the king steps out, the silence deepens. His face is unreadable, sharp shadows falling across his features in the dim light. He doesn’t smile or scowl. He just looks at us, calm and steady, like a storm waiting to break.“When I call you here today,” he begins, voice low and slow, “it is not for your usual progress report.”A cold knot forms in my stomach.His eyes lock on me for a second, or maybe it’s just my nerves, and then he continues. “The next trial you face will not test your magic. Nor your politics or your ability to persuade.”He pauses, his gaze sweeping over e