บททั้งหมดของ Broken by One, Desired by All : บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

Ash’s Point Of ViewThe study was dark, the only light coming from the crackling fire in the hearth, casting long, jagged shadows across the walls. The scent of aged whiskey and old leather filled the air, thick and suffocating, like the weight of expectation that had always pressed down on my shoulders. My father sat behind his massive oak desk, his broad frame rigid, his sharp eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my stomach twist. The Alpha’s ring glinted on his finger, a constant reminder of the power he wielded, and the power he expected me to claim."The pack is waiting," he said, his voice low but carrying the weight of a command. "The elders are starting to ask questions. Lily’s parents as well." He leaned forward, his fingers steepled, his expression unreadable but his tone leaving no room for argument. "The Alpha rites cannot commence if you don’t do your duty by completing the mating rites."I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms hard enough to draw b

Ash's Point Of ViewThe silence of the study pressed in on me like a physical weight, the air thick with the scent of old books and lingering whiskey. Lily’s perfume still clung to the space, cloying and sweet, a reminder of the performance I was expected to maintain. My fingers twitched at my sides, my nails biting into my palms as I forced myself to breathe, to think, to plan.The mating rites.Three days.That’s all I had before I was bound to Lily for life, before the pack’s expectations and my father’s ambitions became my own. The thought made my stomach twist, bile rising in my throat. But beneath the nausea, beneath the dread, there was something else, a flicker of hope, fragile and desperate.The Magic Academy.It was my only way out.My father had made it clear: I could only attend if I completed the mating rites and took on my duties as the future Alpha. It was a bargain, a trade—my freedom for my compliance. And as much as the thought of binding myself to Lily made me want

Zane's Point Of ViewProfessor Veyra didn’t scold me for the failure. Instead, she stepped closer, her sharp eyes assessing me with a precision that made my skin prickle. "You’re treating magic like a weapon," she said, her voice low but carrying the weight of experience. "But magic isn’t something you wield like a sword. It’s something you invite into your body, like a dance partner. You have to trust it."I clenched my jaw, my fingers flexing. "I am trusting it," I muttered, though the frustration in my voice betrayed me.She didn’t flinch. "No," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "You’re fighting it. Watch."She raised her hand, her fingers moving with a grace that made it look effortless. "Lumen," she whispered, and a soft, golden light bloomed at her fingertips, steady and warm, like a candle flame in the dark. "Feel the magic in your core," she instructed, her voice calm. "Let it flow through you, from your feet to your fingers. Your stance is your foundation, your breath

Zane's Point Of View Miles pulled back slowly, his lips lingering against mine for just a second longer before he gave my bottom lip a gentle tug with his teeth, releasing it with a soft, satisfied hum. His hands remained firm on my waist, his thumbs brushing slow, teasing circles over the fabric of my shirt, sending shivers down my spine. My fingers were still tangled in his hair, my other hand gripping his shoulder like he was the only thing keeping me upright. The air between us was thick with tension, the kind that made my skin prickle and my pulse race, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps.I was flustered.God, I was flustered.Miles’ smirk was slow and knowing, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in my flushed face, my swollen lips, the way my chest heaved with every ragged breath. "Are you suddenly shy, Zane?" he murmured, his voice a low tease, his thumb brushing over my hip in a way that made my stomach twist.I bit my lip, my fingers tightening in his hai

Zane's Point Of View “Is it just me, or is Celia glaring at you?”I stiffened, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. "What?"Charlie nodded subtly toward the table near the doors, where Celia… tall, blonde, and permanently unimpressed, was sitting with a group of her friends. Sure enough, her sharp eyes were locked onto me, her expression a mix of disdain and something I couldn’t quite place.I exhaled sharply, setting my fork down. "Great," I muttered. "Just great."Charlie’s smirk was evil. "Oh, Zane," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Did you piss her off again?"I shot him a glare. "I exist," I said. "That’s usually enough."Charlie barked out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. "You do have a talent for making enemies," he said, his tone amused. "It’s almost impressive."I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. "I don’t need this shit right now," I muttered.Charlie’s smirk softened just a fraction. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter. "But you’ve got me. And carbs.