Semua Bab FORBIDDEN BOND: The Alpha's Desire : Bab 101 - Bab 110

(Third Person Limited – Alaric’s POV)The door burst open with the force of a storm.Alaric didn’t pause. Not to scan the room, not to catch his breath. He charged through the rotting lobby of the abandoned building, his eyes wild, his heart a brutal, thudding drum inside his chest.Kael. Kael. Kael.The name was a scream in his head. A pulse in his veins.Aaron was right behind him, silent and swift. Their footfalls echoed off the cracked tiles and moldy walls. Alaric didn’t need to ask where to go.He could feel him.Every inch of his soul was dragging him forward.Then—A figure turned the corner ahead of them.Amora.She froze, but Aaron didn’t. He grabbed her before she could blink, twisting her arms roughly behind her back and yanking her close to his chest. She cried out, struggling, but his grip only tightened.“Don’t say a word,” Aaron growled into her ear, his voice stripped of all affection. “You’re going to lead us to him, and if you so much as breathe the wrong way—Alaric

The corridor was silent. Heavy. Thick with something that felt older than dust and darker than rage.Alaric stood at the far end, eyes fixed on the two steel doors in front of him. His fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw locked tight. No servants were allowed in this part of the palace. No guards lingered here unless summoned. This wing belonged to no one but him now. A forgotten arm of the castle, hollowed out by silence and filled with fury.Behind those doors— betrayal.He stepped toward the first.With a click, the lock unlatched. The hinges groaned. The door opened slowly.Amora.She sat upright on the lone chair in the center of the cell. Despite the plain cement walls and the iron cuffs that had bruised her wrists, she managed a look of arrogant grace. Her dress had wrinkled. Her hair had begun to unravel. But her smile held steady."You look better than I expected," she said. As if they were still nobles sharing morning tea.Alaric didn’t blink.He shut the door behind h

(Third Person Limited – Kael’s POV)The sound of falling water was a lullaby Kael could never forget.He sat on a soft blanket spread across the grass, surrounded by fruit slices, grilled meat, bread, and a jug of honeyed tea Alaric had insisted on bringing himself. A breeze swept through the clearing, brushing over Kael’s cheeks like a secret, sweet and fleeting.The waterfall spilled into the lagoon below, crashing gently over smooth stone. Trees arched protectively overhead, dappling the sun into pieces of gold. And just a few feet away, Aaron lay sprawled shirtless in the grass like a napping feline, a wildflower tucked behind one ear.Kael popped a piece of fruit into his mouth and nudged Alaric beside him. “Are you going to eat anything, or are you just going to stare at me like I’m the dessert?”Alaric leaned over, kissed Kael’s cheek slowly. “You are the dessert.”Kael rolled his eyes, cheeks pink. “You’re ridiculous.”Aaron yawned, stretching lazily as he turned onto his side

(POV: Kael (Third Person Limited)The palace never slept at all really but today it boasts it a bit more. Kael woke at the sound of footsteps in the far corridors, the beating of tapestries, the rhythm of cart-wheels brought laden with rolls of material and rolled banners. His room was filled with pale gold li light which was warm and warm through the tall windows, with the scent of fresh paint and flowering trees and, somehow, of ritual.He rose gradually, and smoothed a palm down the side of his belly. Still sore in places. Still tender where stitches held old pain together.But outside, the world seemed determined to move on.Wrapped in a soft tunic the color of clouds, Kael padded barefoot to the balcony. The view opened up like a painting — the central courtyard now alive with movement. Servants and decorators crisscrossed with purpose. Long strips of silk in silver, blood-red, and moonlight blue were draped along balconies and walls. The marble fountain in the center gleamed, n

POV: Alaric (Third Person Limited)The council chamber was too bright for Alaric’s liking.Golden sconces glowed against polished walls, bouncing light off portraits of kings past—men who’d worn this same crown with smug smiles and bloodstained hands. Alaric sat at the head of the table, not a wrinkle in sight, not a shadow in his posture. But his jaw ached from how tightly he held his expression in place.Around the table, nobles muttered in hushed tones while servants poured wine and adjusted scrolls.“The Solaran dukes arrived last night,” one advisor said. “They ask to meet before the Moonlight Ceremony.”“Give them tomorrow morning,” Alaric replied smoothly. “Not a moment before.”An elder with silver-threaded robes cleared his throat. “And… your Highness, may we inquire—how fares Her Grace’s condition?”The room stilled.They were asking about Amora. About the pregnancy.Alaric’s fingers curled beneath the table. “She’s resting. The healers are cautious, but optimistic.”“So it’