Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 41 - Chapitre 50

Morwenna’s POVLeofric’s screams weren’t human anymore.I stood frozen at the edge of the infirmary, hands gripping the stone doorframe hard enough that cracks etched beneath my fingers. The sound tore through the air like someone gutting time itself. He writhed on the cot, slick with sweat threaded in silver, muscles twitching and jerking like invisible hooks dragged him in different directions. His shirt had been ripped in half during the latest convulsion. The mark across his chest pulsed a violent red-black glow.It was spreading.Faster than before.Deeper than before.And I couldn’t stop it.Sabine stood nearby, arms folded over her chest as if sheer tension could make her more solid, more capable. Her voice, when she finally spoke, sounded flat. “We need to sedate him. He’ll rupture something. Brain, heart, spine—it doesn’t matter which. He won’t survive another break.”“No,” I snapped.She raised a brow.“You saw what happened last time we sedated him. He didn’t come back whol

Morwenna's POVAsh clung to my lips like a warning.Each breath tasted of scorched magic and blood-soaked steel. I could still feel Liora’s blade grazing my ribs, not enough to kill but deep enough to remind me that mercy has teeth. She had vanished into the smoke before I could finish her. Or maybe I had let her go again. I didn’t know. My thoughts ran like water over shattered glass.All around me, bodies lay broken. Some were mine. Some weren’t. The vale was quiet now, but it was the kind of silence that precedes an aftershock.Sabine staggered toward me, her left arm clutched to her chest, blood leaking between her fingers. "She was supposed to be gone," she rasped. "You spared her."I wanted to say I knew. I wanted to scream that I hadn’t had a choice. But the words stuck to my tongue, heavy as betrayal.Behind me, Leofric knelt in the wreckage, breathing like a man trying not to shift. His hands were slick with blood—his or someone else’s, I couldn’t tell anymore. His power flic

Morwenna's POV Blood roared in my ears long before I saw the battlefield. Smoke curled above the valley like a noose waiting to tighten. My fingers gripped the reins too tightly, skin peeling where the leather rubbed raw. The ground below pulsed with tension, with dread. Magic seeped from the soil as if the land itself had begun to rot. Leofric rode beside me, eyes shadowed, jaw clenched. His wolf stirred just beneath the surface, wild and uncertain. Every time our eyes met, something unspoken passed between us. He was breaking. And I was the reason. I shouldn’t have brought him. But I needed him. Scouts reported the rogue packs had circled behind the ridge, flanking us. We were outnumbered. Again. And I didn’t care. Because I had seen the outcome. Or one version of it. Ever since the merging the shard, the void, the girl with my face, I saw too much. Visions bloomed behind my eyelids even while I stood awake. Threads of possibility. Futures not yet written. Some ended wit

Morwenna's POV Lightning split the sky as I stood at the edge of the battlefield, blood drying on my skin, blade still humming from the last kill. The world had gone unnaturally still, like even the wind was afraid to breathe. My boots sank into ash where grass used to be, and the scent of scorched fur lingered in the air like a curse whispered too loud. Leofric had been taken. Not by chains. Not by blades. But by something worse—the mark that now crawled over his body like living fire, burning brighter each time he fought it. And I had left him behind. I told myself it was to lead the army, to draw the enemy away. But the truth sat like lead in my gut. I was afraid. Afraid he would look at me and see not the woman he fought beside, but the weapon that broke him. Sabine moved beside me, her jaw tight, hands still glowing faintly with healing magic. She hadn’t said a word since we escaped the breach. Liora limped behind her, her golden armor dented, streaked with black blood.

Morwenna's POV Firelight flickered against the war maps, but I barely noticed. My hands trembled over the parchment, not from fear, not even from exhaustion—but from the knowing. A cold, sharp awareness had settled in my bones, something ancient and final. I had seen what would happen. And I didn’t know if I could stop it. Leofric was dying. Not fast. Not slow. Just inevitable. The curse clawed deeper each day, and though he masked it well in front of the generals, I saw it. In the stiffness of his jaw. In the shadows under his eyes. In the way his hands occasionally spasmed when he thought no one watched. I always watched. Sabine stood by the window, arms folded tight, moonlight painting silver across her dreadlocks. "You can't lead them like this," she said. "Not if your heart's already buried beside him." "He's not dead," I snapped. She didn’t flinch. "Not yet. But you have to plan for when he is." I hated her logic. Hated how she said it with compassion and steel.