Lahat ng Kabanata ng Torn From The Bond : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

Reya’s POVThe dawn’s light stretched in muted beams through the forest, doing nothing to soften the heaviness in my chest. I moved through camp without armor, only leather and purpose. Around me, the ragged edges of my rebellion slept or prepared—rogue pups sparring, exiles tending fires, scouts readying horses.This is no longer Riverdale. No longer Lycans. No longer Luna under any chain.I climbed the main platform of the old temple ruins—no crowns, no banners, no titles. Just me, standing alone beneath the sky.I drew a deep breath. “Listen!” My voice shattered the early calm, pulling attention from every corner of camp. “There are no more crowns here. No mates. No packs. The only title that matters is ‘wolf.’”Silence—then murmurs as gear was dropped, guard posts left behind. Eyes focused.I faced them all, heart pounding. “From this moment—no reverence for kings or their collars. No loyalty to any claim other than your own freedom…and your pack—the Unmarked.”Shocked faces. Some

Reya’s POVThe forest was unnaturally silent. The absence of wind and birds is replaced by the gentle crackling of distant flames. The Unmarked ceased to exist as I exited my tent. It was quiet. I felt something before I saw it: tension in the air, a scent of blood and ash, and beneath it all—the unmistakable presence of home.Footsteps. Slow, confident. My wolf bristled. I tightened my grip on my blade.Then he stepped into the flickering firelight at the camp entrance.Sebastian.Alive.Closer now, I could see the scars—the jagged lines across his cheek and jaw, the hardened curve of his stance. He looked older, fiercer, and exactly the same.“Nice army,” he said, voice low, lips skewed into a challenge.Shock froze me. My warriors tensed. Alpha Tristan and Lycan Xander stepped forward, ready to clash—but I raised a hand.“Stand down,” I commanded. Reverberation of my Alpha blood calling.Sebastian's eyes locked on mine. “You’re the Luna they whisper about.”“I’m not Luna now,” I sh

Reya’s POVThe first crack of magic lit the darkness.Deep within the old ritual circle—once used to sever bonds—I stood with Lycan Xander between stone runes, candlelight dancing in his haunted eyes. The twins were asleep at the camp edge, protected by my fiercest guardians."Reya," he whispered. "It's our last shot."I traced a rune with my blood, every drop from my wrist fueling the invocation. "They’re gone," I murmured. The ghosts of missing children echoed through my bones. "I’ll do whatever it takes."Lycan Xander's hand closed around mine. His cool touch contrasted the fire of my grief. "Trust me."My wolf struggled, sensing the trap, but fear for my children drowned her protests.He began chanting in Lycan tongue. Ancient. Forbidden. Binding.I felt the blood shift—two hearts desperate to intertwine in defiance. And then a flame… a threshold we crossed.Suddenly, excruciating. Every rune burned. My vision flared scarlet.I dropped to my knees. The ground trembled. My wolf sna

Reya’s POV The camp never sleeps—but tonight felt dead.Tents rustled with uneasy whispers. My sword hung heavy at my waist, but the real blade was trust—and it was dulling fast.Lydia, my fierce second-in-command, lay draped over the altar stones—her breath shallow and eyes glazed. The warding runes around her flickered like dying embers.I knelt, sliding a trembling hand under her head. "Lydia?"She didn’t respond.Sebastian loomed behind me. "They're gone."My head whipped toward him. "Who?"He swallowed hard. "Chloe."Time reeled.Flashback – Minutes beforeChloe had slipped in during meal rotation, a tray in hand. Her smile thin. She’d greeted me. Asked about twins. Called me sister.I’d nodded, welcomed her near.When Lydia coughed by the fire, Chloe crossed the circle, offering water from my flask. Lydia drank. I didn’t intervene.Poison burned. Lydia collapsed within heartbeats.I pressed an ear to Lydia's chest—heart soft under my palm."Why would Chloe…?"Sebastian glared a

REYA. The silence between us is dangerous.As the last of the Unmarked sparring sessions approaches, Alpha Tristan's gaze glazes over my head.... His brow was covered in sweat beads, his shirt gripped against the hard lines of his body, and bruises had barely healed on his jaw from training. The bleeding is originating from a small cut below his collarbone. What's going on? But he doesn't move. And neither do I. The campfire roars close, sending golden flickers through the group of warriors who are not paying attention to us.'... Sebastien is positioned behind me, providing guidance to new vigilantes who have recently surfaced, yet the magnetic force of my presence draws near Alpha Tristan. We haven't had a conversation since the night he surrendered as slain hostage. By allowing him into my army. He rescued me from danger during that attack. Why? And now? I am unsure of our whereabouts. He gradually advances. "You've been avoiding me." (Laughter) I've been in charge of a war.