Semua Bab A Luna And A Whore : Bab 91 - Bab 94

The fire had long since burned out. All that remained were the embers—simmering, stubborn, hot in a way that stayed in the bones long after the flames had stopped trying to devour the sky.Jasmine stood at the edge of it all. The courtyard, the blood, the silence that came after a pack had screamed themselves hoarse. Smoke clung to her hair. Her robe was open, her skin streaked in ash and sweat and grief. There was no one left to seduce. No one left to fight.Only him.Roger sat on the steps like a war beast too tired to bare his teeth. His shirt was ripped open, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, wounds healing beneath blood that refused to dry. The silver in his hair caught the moonlight. His mouth—usually curled in something cruel or cocky—was soft now. Slack. Human.Jasmine walked to him without sound.Not like prey.Not like a queen.Just a woman who had finally stopped running.He didn’t look up when she sank to her knees in front of him, didn’t move when her fingers b

They tried to put her in white.Jasmine stood before the grand mirror... shattered now, cracked like an omen... and stared at the dress someone had dared lay across the bed. Pure silk. Pale. Virginal. As if the past two hundred days of war, of heat, of teeth in her throat and power in her hips, hadn’t happened.She ran her fingers along the fabric.Then let it fall to the ground like a dead thing.She didn’t need silk to be sacred.She didn’t need white to be worthy.When she stepped out into the hall, barefoot, blood still dried beneath her nails, a gown of deep crimson wrapped around her body like hunger made flesh, no one dared stop her.The pack was waiting.And they were starving.The throne room smelled of wolves and ash, the air still thick with the scent of the bodies they’d burned. Soot coated the marble columns. The old banners had been torn down, replaced with rough fabric dyed in shades of wine and rust. Her color. Her claim.Eyes turned as she entered. Dozens of them. Alp