บททั้งหมดของ VEILFIRE: CURSED TO BURN, BORN TO REIGN: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 39

POV: SELENESolara had not trembled in an age.And yet tonight, beneath its gleaming towers and floating temples, the divine city held its breath.The stars above had dimmed. The moons no longer moved in sync. Even the bells that marked Aetherian hours fell silent — as if time itself knew something ancient had returned.Selene stood at the centre of the Council Hall.Her veil flowed behind her like mist drawn from a dying galaxy. The Heartmirror’s fracture still pulsed in her memory — that terrible sound of a prophecy cracking beneath divine pressure. Her voice carried that same fracture now, thin but unignorable, like the first break in a dam. “He has returned.”No one moved.No one breathed.Yet she could feel the thrones around her tighten — celestial beings, once her equals, now staring as if she’d ripped open the sky.The thrones of the divine arced around her in a radiant circle. Some shimmered with rivers of light. Others hovered, made of wind or bone or obsidian flame. One th

POV: ARAYA The Hollowfire Cradle was a hole in the world. No birds sang near it. No wind stirred its trees. Even the moon refused to shine there - as if Selene herself looked away in shame. Araya quietly followed Dorian. The path has long since disappeared. What they were walking on now wasn't earth; it was memory-jagged stone with unreadable sigils carved into it, lit only by the faint pulse of veins that couldn't be seen. The world got quieter with every step they took. It was as if the forest itself were holding its breath. Dorian stopped at the edge of a blackened clearing. Flame rose at its centre It rose from the cracked ground without fuel, flickering low but steadily-a fire that had no beginning or end. The light it gave off was not warm. It shimmered like sorrow, like memory half-buried in ash. Araya stepped forward, drawn in. But as soon as she stepped over the threshold, she couldn't breathe. Something ancient stirred in the flame. And it knew he

POV: DORIAN The forest should have been still. But Dorian felt it. The shift. The rot. It had begun the moment she left the Hollowfire. Not a storm. Not a scent. A presence. Something ancient had stirred — turned its head — and started crawling toward them. He followed her, watching as she walked barefoot over ash. Araya — no. Nyxara — didn’t flinch anymore. She moved like the forest owed her breath. Like the trees should bend. Like silence should bow. And they did. Even the roots curled back. Even the wind hushed. But something else was rising. Something darker. And Dorian knew its name. Because once — long ago — it had spoken through him. Not in words. Never in words. It used memories. Regret. Echoes of truths too heavy to voice. It always came crawling after fire. A whisper rode the wind behind them — not a breath, not a voice. Ruin. > She is awake. She is on fire. She does not kneel. Someone was following her. Not to strike. T

POV: KADE & RYVEN --- KADE He should’ve felt powerful. The Luna Ritual was complete. The ceremonial stones glowed. The chanting had stopped. The pack stood waiting, breathless and watching, as the sun dipped behind the cliffs and bled gold across the sacred altar. He was Alpha-born. He was meant to bite her. Bind her. Claim her. Adira stood at the centre of the circle in her golden robes and braided crown, everything the Elders had ever wanted. Her smile gleamed. Her eyes glittered with triumph. The bloodline would continue. The chaos would end. And Kade? He stood still. Cold. Hollow. Like a man walking into his own grave. Elders surrounded them in their dark cloaks, painting ceremonial runes into the dust with sacred ash. A priestess finished the final chant. One torch. Then another. The circle flared to life with flame. > “Begin the claiming,” came the command. Adira tilted her neck. “Do it,” she whispered. “Finish this.” He stepped forward. One brea

POV: ADIRA, YELITH, ROGUE ALPHA --- Adira couldn’t sleep. Not since the failed ritual. Not since Kade convulsed mid-claim and his wolf howled for a girl who should have been gone. Burned. Forgotten. Erased. She paced the breadth of her moonstone-tiled chamber, silk robes dragging behind her like wounded pride. The mirror of polished obsidian on the far wall fractured her reflection into seven shards, each one sharper, angrier than the last. But her mind didn’t stay here, in the present. It kept circling back — to the first time she’d tried to remove the problem before it had teeth. --- FLASHBACK It had been deep winter. The trees were still heavy with snow, the frost unmelted on the watchtowers. She had sent the rogues east that day. Not the loud, swaggering killers she used for intimidation, but a carefully chosen mix — hunters who could move silent as frostfall, and among them, a shadow. Her shadow. A spy she’d planted quietly, one the other rogues didn’t even know t