All Chapters of Sold to the Devil : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

The soft hum of a laptop fan was the only sound in the room.Dante sat at his desk, the glow of multiple monitors casting sharp blue light over his sharp features. News reports, satellite footage, and intercepted messages blinked across the screens, but he barely reacted. His focus was locked on a single map, spread open beneath his hands, marked with notes, pins, and scribbled annotations.His dark shirt was rolled to the elbows, the fabric creased from hours—maybe days—of work. The war was over. But for him, the real battle had just begun.The door behind him opened quietly.“You should consider locking that,” came a voice—smooth, older, familiar.Dante didn’t look up. “Why? If anyone’s stupid enough to walk through that door with a threat, they won’t get far.”Caelum chuckled, stepping inside. He wore a fitted suit—dark gray, expensive, spotless. “Still as intense as ever.”“What do you want?”Caelum stopped at the edge of the desk and looked over the chaotic mess of notes and digi

The sun filtered through the thick canopy above the shapeshifters’ camp, casting dappled shadows across the open clearing where Emilia moved with precision and focus. Sweat glistened on her brow, her breath even despite the intensity of her movements. Around her, the earth shifted in response to the surge of power beneath her skin—her connection with Lana, her wolf, now almost seamless.A low growl echoed through her throat as she dodged an invisible strike, pivoting and launching herself forward in a burst of energy. The training dummy, reinforced with bone and spellwork, cracked beneath her claws.She paused, chest rising and falling, eyes burning with resolve.Her powers had grown significantly in the past few days—amplified by the ancestral magic that pulsed through the land of the shapeshifters, and by the bond she was finally embracing with Lana. The wolf had once been a silent presence in her mind, guarded and wary. Now, Lana’s voice was steady, her instincts blending with Emil

The swamp lived up to its name.Thick, gray fog pressed in from every direction, swallowing every sound but the sloshing of their boots in the muddy water. Dead trees clawed at the sky, their branches skeletal and sagging under the weight of rot. The sun had disappeared hours ago, or maybe it never rose here at all."This place is cursed," Thalia muttered, her voice nearly lost in the dense air."That's the point," Emilia replied, pushing a cluster of hanging moss out of her way. Her tone was calm, almost eerily so. She hadn’t said much since they left the clearing where Mochi was wounded. Now, the bloodied edges of her sleeves had dried to her skin, but she wore them like armor.Mochi walked beside her, every few steps casting small orbs of light that floated around them like fireflies. “The Mire feeds on memory,” she warned. “It pulls your regrets to the surface. Your guilt. That’s how it gets in.”“Is there a way to block it?” Thalia asked.“Only if your soul’s already empty,” Mochi

The hut was barely standing.The roof sagged like an old man’s spine, and the walls—made of brittle mud and scavenged planks—creaked with every whisper of wind. Moonlight spilled in through a long crack in the ceiling, casting pale light over two battered forms sprawled on the floor, motionless except for shallow breaths.Luka stirred first.A groan escaped his lips as he tried to move, but his entire body screamed in protest. Cuts laced his arms, his ribs throbbed with every breath, and the spell-sickness—a creeping, nauseating fog that clung to his bones—made his vision spin.He coughed hard, a fleck of blood hitting the dirt.“Mara…” he rasped.Across the room, Mara shifted with a low grunt, her face pale and slick with sweat. Her silver hair was matted with dried blood, a nasty wound still weeping on her shoulder where a witch’s curse had clawed through armor and flesh.She turned her head slowly. “You’re alive.”“Barely,” Luka muttered. He winced as he sat up, arm cradled against

The silence was too loud.Emilia moved cautiously, each step measured, her boots barely making a sound against the smooth obsidian floor of the inner sanctum. The air felt too still, like the entire coven was holding its breath. The winding crypt had led them here—into the belly of the coven—but no witches had come to stop them.Not a single spell, no flickers of wards, not even the sensation of eyes watching from the shadows.Emilia’s fingers flexed at her sides. “Something’s wrong.”Thalia, walking beside her, nodded tightly. “There should’ve been resistance by now.”Mochi raised her hand and cast a pulse of detection magic into the hall ahead. The light bounced off the walls, then dimmed. “No enchantments. No traps.”That wasn’t comforting.Emilia’s gut churned. Every instinct screamed that this calm was a lie—one meant to unnerve them, to lure them into a sense of ease. And yet, they walked deeper. There was no other path. No other choice.Then they stepped into the atrium.It was