Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 91 - Chapitre 100

Three days had passed since Selene vanished into smoke. Three days of holding Liam a little too tightly. Of waking up in the middle of the night, listening for a whisper that never came. Of watching shadows crawl across the walls and wondering which one might speak. Kael tried to reassure me. “She’s gone, Elara. You won.” But that’s the thing about shadows. They don’t die. They wait. ⸻ The Elders returned the fourth morning. Only two of them. The third—Seyla—had vanished overnight. No trace. No scent. “She spoke to something before she left,” the eldest said. “Something that answered her through the fire.” “What kind of fire?” Kael asked, already tense. “Black,” the Elder whispered. “It didn’t burn. It devoured.” My stomach dropped. “Selene,” I said. “No,” the Elder corrected. “Something older. Something that welcomed her.” ⸻ We found it that night. A circle of scorched ground deep in the forest. At its center—a symbol. Not a sigil. Not magic from our world. It

The moment the voice spoke those words—“The second Luna”—the ground beneath our feet groaned. Not cracked. Not shook. Groaned. Like the earth itself was trying to breathe around something buried too long. Kael shoved Liam behind him. “Back. Now.” But I couldn’t move. Because that hand… the one clawing up through the ash? It wasn’t made of flesh. It was made of stone. Smooth, obsidian black, veined with silver light like the moon bleeding through darkness. And yet—it pulsed. Alive. I’d fought monsters. Demons. Even the goddess in my own head. But this? This was something else. Something that had never walked this earth. And somehow—I knew her name. “Nyra,” I whispered. Kael blinked. “What?” I swallowed hard. “The Second Luna. Her name is Nyra.” ⸻ The ground split. And she rose. Not fully. Not yet. Just enough for her face to break the surface. Sculpted like a statue, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure. Her eyes were shut, but her presence was suffocating.

I used to think fear was sharp. Like a knife. But now I know the truth. Fear is slow. It’s the creeping, crawling dread in your gut when everything’s quiet—too quiet. It’s the heaviness in your limbs when your instincts are screaming, but there’s nowhere to run. It’s what you feel when your son, your entire world, starts to cry in his sleep—and you know he’s not dreaming. He’s remembering. ⸻ Liam sat up in bed before dawn, drenched in sweat, lips moving like he was still speaking to someone in a dream. I rushed to him. “Liam. Baby, it’s okay. I’m here.” His little hands clutched my arms. “She… she showed me.” “Showed you what?” He looked up at me—and in that moment, I saw ages behind his eyes. “Everything.” ⸻ I took him downstairs to the war room before anyone else could wake. The only ones already there were Kael and Elder Rhovan, both with bloodshot eyes and tension carved into their faces like battle scars. Liam walked in like he’d aged ten years overnight. “She’s

I never thought I’d question Kael. Never thought I’d look him in the eyes and wonder if the soul staring back was mine—or a monster wearing his skin. But there they stood. Two Kaels. One breathing hard. Bleeding from the shoulder. Eyes wide with desperation. The other? Calm. Silent. Poised like a blade. And both of them… identical. ⸻ “Elara, it’s me,” the first one said. “I know what we whispered during Liam’s birth. You said I was your moonlight in the storm.” I blinked. He had said that. The second Kael stepped forward slowly. “And yet, when Liam was born, you were unconscious for most of it. You didn’t hear what I said. I only whispered it after you fell asleep.” I froze. Because… that was true too. My hand twitched toward the dagger in my belt. “I’m not playing this game,” I growled. “One of you is lying. And I’ll find out which.” The calm Kael raised a brow. “Then ask us something the Ash Wolf could never know.” I swallowed hard. “Where did we meet?” “Battlefi

I knew it wasn’t over. Even as Liam fell into my arms, even as Kael’s blood dried into cracks of silver across his jaw, I felt it. That deep, gnawing chill that slithered beneath my skin. That ancient instinct that screamed: Run. But there was nowhere to run. Not from him. ⸻ The sky—the mirror-sky—rippled like water disturbed by fate itself. And from it descended the figure of a king. Not a man. Not a god. Something between. He didn’t walk. He glided. Long silver robes flowed behind him like shadow-flame. A crown of twisted moonstone sat on his head, bleeding black from its tips. His eyes were pits of moving galaxies, his skin the color of thunderclouds before a storm broke. Liam stiffened in my arms. “That’s not her,” he whispered. Kael stepped in front of us. “Then who is it?” The figure smiled, slow and terrifying. “I am the First,” he said, voice smooth like venom. “The one she failed to become. The one who created the Ash Wolf… and the one who will end the line