Semua Bab The Alpha King's Forbidden Mate: Bab 191 - Bab 200

The Hollow had changed.It wasn’t just the brighter torches lining the courtyard paths or the added carvings on the arches—it was the atmosphere, the feeling. Where once there was silent reverence, there was now a buzzing tension, like every stone could feel what Serena carried. The moment she stepped beneath the archway, the flame in her orb pulsed warmly, casting a soft glow on the stone floor, and the bells in the spire above rang out three times—an old signal reserved for returning champions, or for miracles.And Serena? She was both.The apprentices and Keepers gathered in silent rows as the group entered. Kael walked tall, eyes steady, nodding at the warriors he trained before their journey. Kiva’s scroll sat clutched in her arms, full of new glyphs drawn during the trek. Lilith, normally withdrawn, allowed herself a small smile as young girls stared at her like she was a queen come home. Even Darian—wounded, rebuilt—held his head higher than before. But all eyes landed eventual

It was said that when the Flamecarriers first walked the fractured borders of the realm, even the wind paused to listen.The first sunrise after their departure bathed the Hollow in gold and silence. Every torch remained lit through the night—not because of duty, but because no one could bear to extinguish them just yet. Their light carried stories across stone and skin, dancing against the walls like fragments of lives once buried.Serena rose before the bell sounded.She needed to be with the fire before she could speak for it.The Farewell CircleIn the central courtyard, the Flamecarriers formed a wide ring, their flames flickering like tiny hearts in cupped palms. There were sixty of them now—drawn from each sanctum and tribe, even a few from regions that had long rejected the old ways.The girl with the quiet eyes and ember-warmed hands stood again at the front.Serena stepped into the circle, her cloak removed, her hands bare. The Keeper’s Ember pulsed gently at her side.“This

Serena stood in the twilight haze that softened the Hollow’s stone towers, her gaze lost in the horizon where the embers of the sun brushed the clouds in streaks of molten gold.She felt them all tonight—memories like ghosts brushing her skin.Not just the ones she'd inherited. But the ones she’d lived.The fire within her orb pulsed quietly, not seeking to command… but to remind.Because even ashes remembered.And tonight, so would she.The Tapestry RoomThe long-sealed Tapestry Room had been unlocked for the first time in generations.Serena walked slowly along its curved walls, each woven panel bearing the faces and flame-runes of those who had once shaped the Order. Warriors. Healers. Betrayers. Peacemakers.And in the center—a half-finished tapestry. Threads still loose. Needles resting silently in a clay dish.It had once been reserved for those who would never be remembered properly. The erased. The shamed. The unnamed.She picked up the needle.And with slow, deliberate motion

There was a stillness that only came after flame.Not the stillness of silence—but of completion.The Hollow hadn’t dimmed… it had settled. Like a story told and retold until it no longer needed to shout to be remembered.Serena walked barefoot through the eastern corridor, the smooth stone grounding her as she moved past tapestries, cracked doorways, and burnt-out sconces. The basin of coals in the center square still glowed faintly, like a quiet heart continuing to beat long after battle had ceased.The fire no longer called to her.And for the first time in years…She no longer felt responsible for it.Darian’s MessageDarian waited near the Sanctum archives, his robes slightly wrinkled, hair tied back with a crimson thread, and fingers stained with soot and ink.He looked up as Serena approached, holding out a single parchment—thin, greyed, brittle at the corners.“It came from a forgotten archive,” he said. “A vault we thought was destroyed during the Ebon Siege. No rune markers.

The Hollow was alive.Not loud. Not burning.Just… alive.Like the first breath after a long, silent winter.Serena stood at the balcony of the highest Sanctum tower, her cloak billowing gently in the early breeze. Below her, lanterns glowed in gentle waves, strung from tree to tree, tower to pillar. Children laughed. Apprentices trained with wooden staffs. Flowers—yes, real flowers—bloomed in the center square.No more war cries.No more blood in the stone.Only the future.The Ledger of FlameKael returned at dawn.His hair longer. Eyes tired. But when he stepped through the gate, he carried scrolls—dozens of them—filled with names from the North who had agreed to reunite under the Hollow’s teachings.Serena embraced him fiercely.“Still fighting,” she whispered.“No,” he murmured. “Still building.”Lilith came two days later.Scarred, limping, her voice hoarser than ever—but with a grin that could melt mountains.“I found a library beyond the Silence,” she rasped. “Flamebound texts