Semua Bab The Alpha’s Pretty Mistake: Bab 211 - Bab 220

Author Emory acted by instinct, strike, block, pivot, breathe. Again. Harder. The training sword made of wood broke into pieces on the post and the pieces fell on the ground. His neck was covered with sweat, and it stung the half-healed cuts which still scarred his shoulder.Pain was good. Pain meant he was still alive.He swung, and made no note of the aching in in his ribs. The movement was clumsy, excessive, yet he did not mind. He needed to experience something besides helplessness.“Enough.”Kol spoke in a voice that sliced through the air like an order.Emory froze mid-swing, jaw tightening. He hadn’t even heard his father approach — Kol stood at the edge of the training grounds, cane in hand, posture straight despite the limp that shadowed him now.“You’re still healing,” Kol said, stepping closer. His tone wasn’t anger yet, but it would be. “You’ll tear your muscles before they mend.”Emory dropped the broken sword, chest heaving. “I’m fine.”Kol’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not.

KolBefore dawn the storm came in.There was a low rumble of thunder on the horizon, shaking the glass-pane of the study Kol stood in, with a closed envelope in his hand. The seal on the wax was the badge of the Council of Elders the snarling wolf thrust doglike into crimson.He’d been expecting this.He opened the seal with the edge of his cane, and unrolled the parchment with stiff fingers. It was a short message, and in the curt, bureaucratic style of the Council:“Three rogue uprisings in the last forty-eight hours. Witnesses report the presence of a sigil, split wolf, blade through the heart. You are ordered to confirm and respond. Report findings within the next sunrise.”Kol read it twice, then a third time, though the meaning didn’t change.The split wolf sigil again. The same mark burned into the corpses after the border raids. The same mark Elias had described from the woods.They were organising.Not aimless rogues, not scattered bands scavenging for power. These were movem

AgathaSome days I could say that silence was heavier than iron.I had stone walls to my prison, but stone was not what the walls were composed of; they were composed of pity.And everybody believed I was utterly ruined now. Kol, Aria, even my own daughters. They believed the trial had stripped me bare, that my tears in the great hall had been the final act of a pitiful woman begging forgiveness she didn’t deserve.Let them think that.The truth was simpler: guilt eats you alive only if you let it. And I had no intention of dying yet.The outer quarters were colder than I remembered. Once, this part of the estate had belonged to visiting nobles, now it was where Kol sent what he no longer wanted to see. Me.I spent my days by the window, staring at the garden where my daughters sometimes walked with Aria or Rain. I never called out to them. I didn't deserve to. Yet there were moments, when Mina was laughing, that sharp cutting sound, which made me think of her father, and I plastered

EliasThe whispers going about in the council wasn’t new. Infact, the news spread among us like mould left to rot in the corner of a house.I had been summoned under the pretense of a “private consultation,” though I knew better. Nothing in the Council of Elders happened privately anymore. Every word spoken here had an audience, seen or unseen.When I came into the chamber, it was dark. Robed elders sat silent in half a circle, with the odor of incense heavy in the air. The person who looked back at me was Sorah, composed, stable, one of the few remaining who had not yet sold her soul to politics. I mean, she learnt a great deal of a lesson after the last stunt she pulled.“Sit down, Elias,” she said, gesturing for me to sit. “Thank you for coming. We won’t keep you long.”Her tone told me otherwise.Kalis wasn’t here, which meant this wasn’t official. It was worse.Sorah leaned forward. “The Council is splitting. Some want to call for Kol’s removal. Others think a… transition of lea

AuthorWhen morning came, it was red even through the mist that clung to the hills around the Lannister estate. From the looks of it all, it hdd as painted the white marble halls with a dash of rose and ash. And if anyone saw what was happening, it seemed like a quiet warning that something in the world was shifting, a balance tipping too far to be pulled back.Inside her room, Rain had not slept. Her journal lay open on the windowsill next to her, filled with drawings she couldn't remember making, sigils, faces, things that seemed more at home in the firelight than the daylight. She saw that some of the lines were written in her hand, and some were written in a script she didn't recognize at all.She continued to stare at them until she noticed her reflection in the window. It wasn't as if she had been trying to see herself. Staring into the reflection, she didn't recognize her own face; the girl looking back at her was no longer hollow, her hair hung loosely around her framed face,