Semua Bab The Black Wolf : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Vireya POVThe moment Xareth left my room, I shoved the food aside. What kind of monster is he? He’s worse than I ever imagined.I threw off the blankets and slipped into a straight gown, layering it with a heavy, knitted sweater. Grabbing a small blanket, I stepped outside into the biting cold.Zevarion sat beneath the old sycamore tree, his silhouette still and waiting. The moment he spotted me, he rose to his feet. I didn’t hesitate, I ran into his arms and broke down in a flood of tears.“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, again and again, his fingers gently threading through my hair.Zevarion, the ever-hopeful dreamer. He didn’t even ask why I was crying, he didn’t need to. He just kept murmuring those soft, steady words like a lullaby, and somehow it worked. Maybe it was his voice, or his presence.We sat on the bench together, and I wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. But instead, he pulled it wider to cover me too. I smiled through damp lashes and leaned into him, res

Vireya's POV As the enemy archers took aim, ready to fire, Xareth moved like a blur. In one swift, brutal motion, he severed the heads of their fallen leader. Blood sprayed across the frozen earth as he raised both heads high in his left hand.“I have won the fight fair and square,” he declared, voice like thunder rolling across the clearing. “And you are law-abiding werewolves. By right, I am now your leader. You will obey me.”Fair and square? We just stole the heartstone and our lives were hanging by a thread, and he spoke of fairness?But to my disbelief, the soldiers obeyed. One by one, they lowered their weapons, heads bowing in silent surrender. Without resistance, they fell into line behind him.Xareth turned and gestured for them to follow. We made our way back to the carriage, where he retrieved the ancient artifact. Then, looking directly at my wolf, he commanded, “Drop the Heartstone.”My wolf obeyed, easing the glowing crystal from between her massive claws. As before, t

Vireya's POV She returned to the worktable and gently laid down the bundle of herbs, her hands moving with practiced grace.“You’re also a prisoner,” I said softly, watching her face for the slightest reaction.She froze, just for a heartbeat, her hand suspended midair above a cluster of blue-glowing leaves. Then, without a word, she resumed her task as though nothing had been said.“I don’t have the answers you seek, child,” she murmured, not meeting my eyes.“But you know something,” I insisted, my voice almost cracking. I was desperate. “Please, anything. You’ve seen the truth more than you let on.”She looked at me then, really looked, her eyes full of conflict and sorrow. Her lips parted with a sigh, long and tired.“The only thing I know for certain is this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He cannot mix his dreams with his desires.”I blinked. “What does that mean?”She began pouring the mixture in a big vial. “He hasn’t touched you, has he?”The question startled

Vireya's POVThe pain came suddenly, violent, searing, and unlike anything I had ever felt.I gasped and recoiled, pulling away from Zevarion as agony erupted in my chest. My fingers flew to my neck.The chain. The cursed chain! The thorns that encircled it twisted cruelly, biting deeper into my skin.“Vireya?” Zevarion’s voice was thick with worry as he leaned toward me. “What’s happening? Are you hurt?”I tried to speak, but no words came. The pain gripped tighter, spreading from my throat into my chest. It wasn't just physical, it felt as if the thorns were clawing into my very heart.I clutched my chest, gasping for breath, my body trembling.“Vireya, please, how do I help you?” Zevarion moved closer, panic on his face.With a shaky hand, I gestured for him to step back. My fingers trembled as I waved him away.“You want me to… step back?” he asked, voice uncertain, torn.I nodded, barely able to keep my eyes open.Hesitantly, he stood and moved a few paces away, never taking his

Vireya's POV After they flogged me that evening, they left me there, hanging from the ceiling like some lifeless creature. My wrists screamed in pain, swollen and torn where the restraints bit into my skin.But all I could think about was Zevarion.He would go to our tree and wait, not knowing why I hadn't come. He’d worry, I knew he would. That thought cut deeper than any whip.The night dragged into morning. Hunger clawed at my stomach, thirst dried my throat to dust, and pain pulsed through every inch of me. My back burned from the lashes, raw, open, and sizzling from the silver-tipped ends.By afternoon, the door creaked open. Nyra stepped in, flanked by two guards, her expression carved from ice.“Well,” she said, circling me like a vulture. “Still stubborn, I see. But I’m in a merciful mood. Apologize, and I’ll let you go.”“Come closer,” I whispered, barely lifting my head.She smirked and leaned in.I gathered the last of my strength and spat directly into her face. The guard