جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 70

Killian's POV "That must be sarcasm, Killian!" Isla snapped, quickening her steps to keep up with me as I took the stairs two at a time instead of the elevator. "I have no reason to lie to you about vampires, Isla," I said without looking back. My voice was steady, but the weight of everything pressed behind it. "You were compelled to say those things you said." "I can’t even believe I said them," she breathed, her words tumbling out as she hurried after me. "I never did, at least not willingly." "Of course," I answered, my hand gripping the rail as I moved down another flight. "Once their compulsion breaks, you regain your senses. But you won’t remember most of the things you do while you were under it." She made a low, disbelieving sound. "Vampires are not real. They’re tales, Killian. We watch them on television, that’s all." "I wish they were just tales," I said flatly. "Because what my father and I never imagined is about to come back." Her footsteps faltered behind

Killian's POV Liam came in with his boots still caked in mud, his face tight. He didn’t wait for pleasantries.“Thirty two,” he said flatly. “That’s the count. Most of them younglings, but a few seasoned ones among the bodies. Whoever’s running them isn’t slowing down.”I leaned back, studying him. “Good work.” Then, without pause, I added, “Elijah and Scott are back in town.”His head snapped toward me, eyes wide as though he hadn’t heard right. “What?”“You heard me,” I said, steady.For the first time, I saw Liam’s composure falter. He drew in a breath, fists clenching at his sides. “After all this time…” His jaw worked, the anger raw.I pushed off the wall and closed the distance between us. “I need you to do something for me. Take Isla. Keep her close. Whatever happens, she won't stay here.”He hesitated, searching my face. “You’re not coming?”“I’ve got unfinished business with Elijah.”Liam’s jaw tightened, but he gave the slightest nod. Before he could speak, footsteps echoed

Isla's POV I looked at the book and was shocked at what I saw. The handwriting was old but still bold.My fingers traced the curve of the letters almost without my consent, and the more I read, the heavier my chest became. Whole pages were filled with names, symbols, and passages scratched with warnings that weren’t meant to be decorative, they were meant to terrify. There were drawings too, wolves standing over dead bodies, circles of fire etched around figures kneeling, and long, spiraling marks that looked like seals.But it wasn’t the drawings that made my throat tighten. It was the mention of a name I recognized, written again and again like it had been branded into the parchment. Blackwood.The words that followed spoke of bloodlines cursed and preserved, of a cure buried so deep it demanded not just sacrifice, but a life bound to the family’s last descendant. The lines didn’t spell it all out, but th

Killian's POV I walked down the street alone, a wooden dagger balanced in my right hand, its sharpened edge catching the faintest reflection, the gun heavy in my left, loaded with silver and vervain. A hunter’s tools. A warrior’s burden. Then it hit me, blood. Thick, sharp, coppery. Not the cold smell of vampire blood. Not the wild pull of a werewolf’s. Humans.I moved faster, each stride covering more ground until a kilometer vanished in less than a second. And then I saw him.Scott.His mouth was drenched in red liquid, his chest heaving like he had been holding back for centuries and finally snapped.Bodies sprawled around him, nineteen of them, their faces pale, eyes wide, every last drop of blood stolen. The twentieth was in his arms, limp, her throat torn open. His fangs were still wet, black veins crawling around his eyes. He let her fall at his feet, lifeless, and licked the blood from his lips.

Killian's POV I ripped the iron out of me and the world tilted for a second, the pain vanished as the wound sealed. The rod slid from my fingers and wet with my own blood. I spat a curse and ignored the bruise already forming across my ribs. I wrenched the rod free and spun, throwing it without thinking twice.Elijah didn’t flinch. He reached out and caught the rod with one hand like it was an offering, not a weapon. He held it up between us, casual, the corners of his mouth pulled into that lazy smile he always used when he wanted you to underestimate him.For a second, only a second I watched him. The laugh lines at his eyes were gone, replaced with a hardness that had nothing to do with age. I’d changed while he wasn’t looking.“Seeing you in your wolf form without the full moon, I must say I’m impressed.” He said with a smile. Scott lying on the floor behind him getting ready to stand against me again as he's getting healed up.He smiled and the smile didn’t reach anywhere t