Semua Bab HER DAUGHTER'S REJECTED MATE : Bab 81 - Bab 88

THE SILENT PATH Mountain Crossing—The Path That Doesn't Echo The path narrowed as Xavier climbed higher into the Emberwild's jagged throat. The morning air bit into his skin, and the mist that clung to the pines felt alive—watching. His horse, a black-coated gelding named Ironstep, snorted uneasily. "We keep going," Xavier muttered, patting its flank. "I don't care what the trees said." The trail curled up a stone ridge, barely wide enough for one horse. Boulders jutted out like ribs, and frost crusted the branches above. His breath fogged in front of him, but no echo returned. Not even from the steady clop of

THE BLOOD MAP  Arrival at the Forgotten Fort The wind howled between the cliffs like a hungry beast. Xavier's cloak, stiff with frost, whipped behind him as he trudged through the narrow gorge. Snowflakes swirled in the air, catching in his lashes and clinging to his boots. His breath came in clouds, and each step echoed in the dead silence of the mountains. Ironstep, his horse, refused to go any further. The terrain had narrowed into uneven stone ridges lined with skeletal trees. The animal's ears were pinned back, and it snorted restlessly, hooves digging into the snow. "Stay here," Xavier murmured, patting the steed's flank. "If I'm not back by nightfall… burn t

THE MARK OF BETRAYAL  The Anonymous Scroll The morning sun hadn't yet touched the eastern towers when Beta Vegas entered his chamber. The air was cold, crisp with the kind of silence that made instincts sharpen. He wasn't scheduled for a war briefing until midday, but something pulled him from sleep — something older than habit. There, on his desk, sat a scroll. No seal. No ribbon. Just rolled parchment lying at a slight angle, as if it had been placed by someone who didn't want to linger. He scanned the room, hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. Nothing moved. 

THE WOLF IN THE SNOW  The Ambush "Three more miles," Xavier muttered, tugging his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Snow lashed his face like the forest wanted him gone. His horse had fallen two hours ago, a cross-bolt embedded in its flank. He was alone, limping through frozen underbrush, the wind a constant hiss in his ears. His breath fogged in the air. Every step forward was an effort. Muscles aching. Vision swimming. She told me not to go. They told me to stay. Why didn't I listen? A whistle. Sharp. Metallic.