Semua Bab MoonLit Sins: The Curse Of Red Hollow: Bab 21 - Bab 30

The first light of morning spilled through fractured stained glass, splinters of color across Kael’s apartment floor. We stood by the window, wrapped in each other’s arms, but the tension wasn’t gone. In fact, it had grown heavier than any Ward magic.“It’s getting worse,” I whispered. Kael pressed his forehead to mine. “I feel it too. Something’s stirring.”Below, the city stirred with unease. Lanterns flickered. Markets hummed beneath anxious eyes. People sensed the weight of prophecy echoing in every cracked wall.Over breakfast, bitter coffee for me, blood-orange tea for Kael, we pored over the ledger I’d found. A red-ink symbol appeared beneath several entries: Ophius. A secret faction deep inside the Council, rumored in whispers, long dismissed as myth.“They’re real,” I murmured. “Ophius funded traitors, set Ward bonds to fail, even arranged protection rackets for magical black‑markets.”Kael’s face tightened. “We exposed one ring with Eldon, but Ophius is bigger. Institutiona

The dawn haze over Red Hollow did little to soften the sharp edges of its scars. Kael and I stood at the apex of Gargoyle Hall, wrapped in each other's warmth against the lingering chill. Aurel, our newly discovered heir, hovered nervously beside us, cradling the Thornbane ring wrapped in silk.Below, the city scuttled through its routines: lanterns lit chimneys, distant church bells clanged midday, and warded streets buzzed with cautious optimism.But danger still whispered in the cracks. Ophius may have been beaten for now, yet Aurel’s sudden emergence showed us how deep shadows could burrow.Inside the war room, Selene stood before a carved oak map table, chanting wards into the grain. Kael’s sentinels adjusted runic crystals, while vampire envoys and witch leaders conferred in hushed tones. I watched Aurel, toes swinging off a stool, small shoulders tense with excitement and uncertainty.When I touched his hand, he glanced up, his violet eyes reflecting ancient wisdom and the clea

The night air was heavy with expectation as we stood on the rooftop of the Gargoyle Hall. Below, Red Hollow lay in uneasy slumber, every lamp flickered, every ward hummed, and every shadow stirred.Kael tightened his coat around me. I glanced at Aurel, who held the Thornbane ring tentatively, an heir both powerful and vulnerable.“This is the night,” Kael whispered, voice steady but harsh with tension. “Everything changes.”I pressed a hand to his chest. “Together.”Aurel echoed in quiet resolve: “Together.”Downstairs, the war room was a hive of determined energy. Witches were binding wards, sentinels sharpened steel; vampires checked runic charges under their skin. There was purpose in every motion, gravity in every whisper.Selene stepped forward, eyes soft but clear. “Tonight, we face Ophius’s core, the remnants hidden beneath the old council mid-tier, in the body vault.”I swallowed. Old council vault, a dark place of secrecy, coffins, and betrayals past. Yesteryears lined these

Moonlight poured through the shattered dome of the old Cathedral Rotunda, pooling across its worn marble tiles, cold, silent witnesses to what was coming. We stood at the center, Lyra, Kael, and Aurel, the latter perched on our intertwined hands like a fragile promise.The air buzzed with watchful tension. Sentinels lined the edges, witches whispered ward prayers, vampires leaned against broken columns, eyes gleaming with spell-lit anticipation. Magical lanterns glowed with hues of deep blue and silver, symbols of hope, defiance…and perhaps prophecy.Tonight, everything changed.From the shadows stepped Astra, once Shade’s heir. She carried an ancient tome, her face pale in the lantern glow.“As we sealed the heir’s power,” she began quietly, “I discovered something darker, a hidden prophecy, the ‘Veil of Sins.’ A reckoning meant to tear down every bond we’ve built.”Murmurs rippled across the gathering.My heart thudded, old wounds, unspoken fears, magics buried even from us.Astra o

The city’s moonlight bled through cracks in Kael’s curtains, painting our small bedroom in silvery hues. I lay half‑awake beside him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. His hair was damp from sweat and dreams, and his breathing was deep, peaceful, something I hadn’t felt in months.I watched him. My heart clenched: he was everything, the wolf, the warrior, my anchor, my home.He stirred, eyelids fluttering. A soft grunt. Then his arm curled around me, pulling me closer.“Mmm,” he murmured.I pressed my cheek into his chest. “Good morning,” I whispered.He cracked an eye. “Already?” His voice was hoarse, warm and lazy.I grinned. “Sun’s up.”He tightened the embrace. “Stay.”I laughed softly. “Always.”We stayed there for ages, I pressed kisses between his shoulder blades, he ruffled my hair, we whispered remembrances of battles survived, atrocities barely fought back. Then his stomach growled and growled until he laughed, it was a full-body rumble in the night.“You’re so