Semua Bab Marked by the enemy alpha: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The first light of dawn spilled across the shattered stones of the Vareen ruins, casting long shadows that danced with the wind. Aria stood at the edge of the ancient site, her cloak whipping behind her, hair tangled with ash and dust. Her fingers curled around the pendant at her throat, its warmth now pulsing like a second heartbeat. Behind her, Kael watched in silence. His sharp gaze was more than protective now—it was questioning. The truth had unsettled them both. But Kael wasn’t just her mate anymore. He was her anchor, the one person she trusted more than herself. And now, that trust hung in fragile balance. Lyanna lay still near the fire, her breathing shallow. Ressa had done all she could to stabilize her wounds, but the deeper damage wasn’t physical. It was the rot of betrayal, bitterness, and years of indoctrination that ran like poison in her blood. “I don’t know if she’s telling the truth,” Aria murmured, not turning to face Kael. “She knew things about you she shouldn

The wind howled through the dense forest, threading between trees like a ghost searching for a host. The moon hung low and blood-orange, casting an eerie glow over the trees and mountains that separated Kael’s territory from the rest of the rogue lands. Aria stood at the cliff’s edge, her long cloak fluttering behind her like raven wings, her mind heavy with the burden of what she had just witnessed at the southern border. A burnt field. Bodies of scouts—wolves from Kael’s own patrols—ripped apart with precision that could only belong to trained assassins. And among the ashes, the same black symbol left behind in the mud: a serpent devouring its tail, etched in blood. The Order of the Black Veil had made its next move. Her fingers curled tightly around the pendant hidden beneath her shirt, the crescent moon rune her mother had passed down. It pulsed softly against her skin, almost as if warning her that the time was drawing near. She turned slowly as Kael approached, his black coat

The dawn after the Hollow of Thorns burned cold and gray. Mist blanketed the peaks, winding down through the forest like ghostly fingers. Crescent Haven, the temporary sanctuary hidden beneath the Shadowpine Valley, stirred quietly. The warriors of both Moonshade and Glacier Ridge moved cautiously, guarding the perimeter while healers tended to the injured. In the heart of the camp, Aria sat beside Lyanna’s cot, a quiet fire dancing in the hearth nearby. Her sister lay still, locked in a deep, dreamless sleep. Though the Hollowed Flame no longer consumed her, its residue lingered in her veins, etched in her skin like glowing scars. “She hasn’t stirred?” Kael’s voice broke the silence as he entered the tent. He knelt beside Aria, his gaze soft but guarded. Aria shook her head. “Not once. It’s like she’s suspended in some void. The flame is dormant... but not gone.” Kael reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Lyanna’s face. “We need to prepare. The Order won’t stop. The fractu

The sound of a cracking stone echoed through the hollow woods. Aria’s breath caught as the ancient monolith split down the center, a fissure glowing red-hot from within, casting light that pulsed like a living heart. The runes carved into the surface flared bright, then faded into silence as ash rained in slow, unnatural spirals. Around them, the Order stood motionless—hooded figures in crimson robes, their faces hidden behind masks of bone. And at the center stood Kaelen, the man who wore Kael’s face. But there was no mistaking the wrongness in him. His smile held no warmth, only hunger. His eyes, golden and hollow, shimmered like molten metal, and his voice—though eerily familiar—carried the cadence of something ancient. Kael stepped forward, sword drawn, gaze locked on the imposter. “You’re not me.” Kaelen laughed. “No. But you are me. It's a fractured piece. A forgotten shard.” His gaze drifted to Aria. “And you… you’ve been the light keeping him sane.” Aria stood firm, her

The first fragile light of dawn barely pierced the thick canopy of Moonshade forest, casting long, wavering shadows over the scorched earth and broken branches. The air hung heavy with the bitter scent of smoke and damp soil, a harsh reminder of the fierce battle that had raged only hours before. Survivors moved silently through the wreckage of their once-proud home, faces etched with exhaustion and loss. Every step seemed weighted by the tragedy of what was lost — ancient trees blackened, nests destroyed, and the heart of their sanctuary scarred. Aria stood atop a fallen oak, the rough bark pressing into her palms as she gazed across the devastated landscape. Her sharp eyes, usually so full of life and fire, now flickered with a mixture of pain, determination, and something else — a fierce, unyielding hope. The price of victory was heavy, but the real war was only just beginning. The shadow cast by the Enemy Alpha was far from lifted, and her people depended on her strength now more