Lahat ng Kabanata ng FORBIDDEN BOND: The Alpha's Desire : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

The palace gates glinted way off, all silver and smug in the last scraps of sunlight. Alaric clung to Kael’s hand like he’d never let go—seriously, man had a vice grip. They’d just about stumbled past the entrance when—bam—she showed up.Amora.Draped in velvet and arrogance, she stood poised by the grand columns, a delicate hand raised in a wave that didn’t quite reach her eyes.“There you are, Your Highness,” she purred, sliding right into their path like a cat with a secret. Her eyes flicked to Kael, mouth twitching just a hair before she spun back to Alaric, flashing that sugar-coated grin that practically dripped with poison. “I was worried. I’ve been waiting for you.”Alaric didn’t even pause. Kael, for a split second, forgot how to breathe as that arm at his waist pulled him in tight, plastering him to Alaric’s side like a statement.Amora tried again, reaching for composure that was slipping away. “Let’s talk,” she said, but her words sounded thin—like maybe she felt the chill

The cottage stood on the edge of the woods like something older than the trees around it—more root than house, more myth than home. Moss crawled over the stone walls. The wooden door groaned when Grandma pushed it open. Wind whistled behind them like it carried spirits.“Lay him down on the floor,” Grandma instructed sharply. “The center of the circle. No pillows. No metal near his body.”Alaric obeyed, his arms cradling Kael as if he were glass. He lowered him onto a thick woven mat etched with faded runes. The scent of dried herbs—lavender, clove, bloodroot—hung in the air like breath waiting to be exhaled.Kael didn’t stir.Grandma knelt beside him, her gnarled fingers opening a small wooden box. She took out a blade—thin, curved like a crescent moon. The silver edge shimmered despite the lack of light.Alaric stiffened. “What are you doing?”“I need his blood to speak.”She didn’t wait. With steady precision, she slid the blade across Kael’s left wrist—just a tiny nick, no deeper

The first thing Kael felt was warmth.It wasn't the suffocating kind from fever or panic, but the quiet kind—the type that lingers in the cradle of a sunrise, the type that smells like skin and wet earth and someone who never stopped waiting.Then came the ache.His body felt distant, like a house he hadn’t lived in for a long time. Heavy limbs. A chest that burned every time it tried to rise. Eyelids sealed by exhaustion.Then the sound—muffled, like voices underwater.A woman weeping. A fire crackling low. Wood creaking beneath soft footsteps. Somewhere close, a heartbeat.And a weight on his chest.Not crushing. Anchoring.Kael’s lashes fluttered. The first thing he saw was a mess of black hair sprawled across his torso.Then a face.Alaric.Unconscious. Draped protectively over him like a shield that forgot how to stand down.“Alaric?” Kael croaked. His voice was dry, sanded down by everything he’d endured.The figure didn’t move.But across the room, someone gasped.“Oh gods—Kael

The room was quiet, soaking in that early noon light.Alaric’s fingers traced lazy circles over Kael’s bare back, slow and gentle, almost like he was worried Kael would just disappear if he wasn’t careful. They were all tangled up together, Kael’s head resting on Alaric’s chest, hair a total mess that Alaric couldn’t stop running his fingers through, like he was counting beads or something.“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Alaric said, voice soft.Kael grinned against his skin. “Not going anywhere.”“You promise?”“Promise.”Alaric shifted, sliding his hand along Kael’s spine, down to his waist, then back up. “You feel warmer now. Not sick-warm, just… Kael-warm.”“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Kael teased.“Obviously.” Alaric laughed, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Want me to brush your hair?”Kael lifted his head slightly, sleepy and amused. “Is that a threat?”Alaric raised a brow. “That depends. Will you be difficult about it?”Kael rolled his eyes. “You’re ridic

(Kael's POV)Two weeks.That’s how long it’s been since the slap, the storm, and the questions that refused to settle.And still—I don’t remember her. The woman in silk and claws. The one who knew my name and slapped my face like I owed her blood.I’ve tried to force it. I’ve sat still in the silence, clawing through the haze like a dream I wasn’t invited to wake from. But it’s blank. My mind doesn’t even give me shadows to chase.Maybe I don’t want to remember.Because the present is… warm. Oddly peaceful. Quiet, except for the constant hum of Alaric’s voice and the rhythm of his thumb stroking across my stomach.Which now has a noticeable curve.I’ve started showing.It’s not huge, not yet. Just a soft, gentle swell—barely more than a rounded press under the skin. But it’s enough to make me feel different. Heavier. Slower. Like my body is carrying not just weight, but meaning.And Alaric…Alaric is obsessed.He’s been tracing my stomach like it’s sacred scripture, like there are ans