Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

The sky burned crimson.Above the Nightveil mountains, the eclipse began—not gradual, not gentle, but all at once as if the moon itself bled and screamed. A red halo swallowed the sky, just like the one etched into the memories of the few who had witnessed Veyra's birth. The same cursed light, the same choking magic.Veyra stood at the edge of the stone clearing in the heart of Nightveil territory, her breath shallow, her fingers twitching with the pressure in the air. Magic surged through the soil. It whispered up her bones.Zarek appeared beside her, jaw clenched, his hand brushing against hers. Behind them, Rune, Zevi, Lioren, stood ready, their postures tense, eyes scanning the warped horizon. A storm was coming—no rain, no wind. A storm of soul and shadow.Then everything went still.From the center of the clearing, where sacred rituals had been performed and blood had been spilled, the air cracked.Like glass.A rift tore open—not with noise, but silence. That aching, terrible s

The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers through the open windows of the Hale family's home. Veyra stood on the porch, a quiet moment of peace before the storm that loomed on the horizon. The sun, a pale golden orb rising above the distant hills, bathed the world in its gentle light. It was a rare morning when there was no threat, no impending danger, and Veyra found herself grateful for the stillness.She heard the soft clip of hooves on the dirt path leading up to the house before she saw the horses. Elias's broad figure was silhouetted against the rising sun as he and Jon made their way toward the porch. Veyra felt her heart give a little lurch at the sight of her father. The sight of him always brought a sense of comfort, but this morning, there was something different about his presence.Elias Hale was a warrior, a man forged in battle and tempered by years of fighting to protect his pack. His graying hair and strong jaw were signs of time passing, bu

Zarek's journey had taken him far from their territory. A neighboring pack had reached out for assistance, their land under threat from the ever-growing influence of the Order of the Obsidian Fang. The task was straightforward, or so it had seemed: a diplomatic meeting, an exchange of information, and a show of strength. But nothing ever went as planned in these dark times, and today was no exception.The air was thick with the scent of impending danger as Zarek and his scouts rode through the dense forests, their horses' hooves barely making a sound on the soft earth. They were close now, the edge of the neighboring pack's borders just within reach. The atmosphere had changed since they'd crossed the threshold. There was an eerie stillness in the trees, and the usual sounds of wildlife were conspicuously absent.Zarek's senses were heightened, every instinct screaming that something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he rode at the head of the group. His mind, s

The sun had barely crested the horizon when the Nightveil Pack gates opened to welcome their returning Alpha. But there was no triumphant cheer this time, no proud stance on horseback or confident stride through the stone arches. Zarek Vorn was carried on a makeshift stretcher, weak, wrapped in moon-silver blankets that shimmered with protective runes. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and his usually sharp, commanding features were dulled with exhaustion and pain.Veyra walked beside him, her palm resting gently on his as though the constant contact could tether his spirit to the mortal plane. Her silver hair was loose, falling like silk over her shoulders, her eyes hollowed with worry but set with unwavering resolve. The moment they crossed into pack territory, her voice broke the heavy silence."No one disturbs him," she said, commanding the gathered warriors, healers, and scouts. "Zarek is to be placed in the Alpha wing. No questions. No visitors. No council until I say

Veyra and her mates decided to journey to the Oracle's temple in search of answers or anything that could help. The journey had taken a few days but finally they had gotten there. The wind howled as if mourning, low and keening across the jagged cliffs that cradled the Oracle's Temple. Veyra stood at the base of the winding stone staircase that led up to the entrance, her cloak billowing behind her like smoke. The ancient ruins shimmered beneath the weight of magic, the air itself charged with an uneasy tension.Her mates flanked her—Zarek close and silent, his jaw tight. Zevi's gaze scanned the darkness, his fingers twitching near the dagger at his waist. Rune's posture was rigid, every muscle taut beneath his clothes, and Lioren stood with his arms crossed, watching her with quiet protectiveness."This place reeks of old blood," Rune muttered, wrinkling his nose. "Are we sure about this?""We don't have a choice," Veyra replied, her voice steady even though her pulse thundered in h