All Chapters of MoonLit Sins: The Curse Of Red Hollow: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Kael’s POVIf there’s one thing the Council of Red Hollow excelled at, it was theatrics. High stone arches loomed over us as Isolde and I walked side by side into the Great Hall. Gold banners draped like veils of a forgotten empire, masks of civility covering rot beneath. Every Councilor wore their finest, robes so heavy with jewels it was a miracle their necks weren’t snapped from the weight of their own arrogance.“Are we here to listen, or are you planning to burn bridges?” Isolde asked under her breath.“Depends,” I muttered, eyeing the smug faces lined before me. “How flammable do you think they are?”Her lips quirked. “Highly. And I’m carrying oil.”Gods, I liked her.The Regent of Arms, a skeletal man named Orvin, slammed his staff against the marble floor.“Kael of the Ashen Vanguard,” he intoned. “You stand before the Council accused of undermining Red Hollow’s sovereignty, waging unauthorized war, and harboring powers that could….”“Save your breath, Orvin,” I interrupted, s

Kael’s POV “You want us to what?” I asked, not bothering to hide my disbelief.Selric, the Council’s spymaster and a man with the charm of a wet boot, folded his arms. “Infiltrate the masquerade at Blackthorn Manor. Blend in. Find the Athyrian heir. Quietly.”Beside me, Isolde gave an exaggerated sigh. “Kael doesn’t do quiet.”“And you?” Selric sneered.“I make up for his lack of subtlety.”Her smirk made Selric grimace. I liked that about her. She could rattle a man with a glance.“Blackthorn is hosting nobles from every surviving warded lineage,” Selric continued. “Rumors say one of them possesses a fragment of Athyra’s essence. We need that fragment before the Bloodmarked Order does.”He tossed a pair of masks onto the table.One obsidian black. The other, a delicate, silver filigree with patterns of thorns.“Your disguises,” he said. Isolde held up the silver mask, arching an eyebrow. “I’ll take the dagger over this any day.”“You’ll take both,” Selric snapped.By nightfall, we s

Kael’s POVIsolde’s fingers barely brushed mine as we crossed the threshold into the Embervault. The ancient ruins hummed beneath our feet, veins of molten rock glowing faintly along the walls like a heartbeat, pulsing, alive, watching. The air was heavy with heat and history, but none of it suffocated me like her nearness did.She wasn’t Lyra.And maybe that was the problem.Because she wasn’t Lyra, and yet she stood beside me with the same stubborn fire in her eyes, the same quiet defiance in the curve of her mouth. She was temptation wrapped in leather and shadows, with a gaze that seemed to strip away every wall I didn’t know I was still holding up.“We shouldn’t be here alone,” I said, voice low, hands flexing at my sides.Isolde turned to me, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Afraid of being alone with me, Kael?”The way she said my name, slow, deliberate, like a challenge, made my skin prickle.“I’m not afraid of you.” My tone had the edge of truth and a lie.Her gaze darkened, ste

Kael’s POVThe Council chamber was colder than I remembered. Not in temperature, but in presence. The last time I stood here, Lyra had been beside me, storm in her eyes, fire in her blood. Now the air tasted like ashes.Her ashes.And every step I took echoed with the memory of her laughter in these halls. I paused just before the doors, gloved fingers tightening around the hilt of my sword. The double-iron gates loomed ahead, etched with the crests of the five founding Houses. I had grown up seeing them, imagining one day I’d be granted a seat among the elite.Now I didn’t want a damn seat.I wanted vengeance.The guards pushed the doors open, and I walked in.The High Council sat in a crescent arc, five thrones, five pairs of calculating eyes. Dressed in obsidian robes, each wore the sigil of their House as if it were armor. Lord Varyn sat in the middle, silver-bearded and sharp-eyed. To his left, Lady Cyrine of House Veyla, the youngest member, but arguably the most dangerous. Besi

KAEL POVI had faced war councils before. I’d stared down kings, gods, and creatures too ancient to have a name. But never had the air felt this heavy, this thick with unspoken judgment. The great hall of Vaerath’s Keep burned with torchlight, shadows curling like serpents against the high, vaulted ceiling. Stone columns dripped with black banners, and the scent of incense clung to the air, a futile attempt to mask the stench of the battlefield outside. I stood in the center, shoulders squared, my sword still sheathed at my side. Around me, the Council of Nine watched in silence from their raised seats, their faces carved from centuries of power and suspicion.And at the far end of the hall… sat her.Arielle.The woman who haunted my thoughts for weeks now. Not like Lyra, never like Lyra. Lyra’s memory burned with the sharp pain of loss, but Arielle was different. She was fire I hadn’t yet touched, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to burn or survive. Her silver eyes didn’t flinch as