All Chapters of Incubus Reborn: Sleepless promise: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The west gate square was a sea of shadows and flame. Torches burned along the barricades, their light casting cruel shapes across the timber stacked high in the center. The pyre rose like a beast’s maw, jaws waiting to swallow the bound figures huddled before it.Saraphina crouched with Lucian, Kaelen, and Mirielle in the narrow maw of an alley that bled into the square. The noise of the crowd pressed against them — not the thunder of defiance from before, but a tense, fearful murmur, like the low growl of a beast unsure whether to bite or flee.Soldiers ringed the square in black-tabarded lines, spears gleaming. The banners of Malrec’s purge flapped from the gate towers, the painted sigil — a flame crossed with a sword — stark in the firelight.Saraphina’s breath caught as her eyes found the prisoners. Old Mara was among them, her hair shining silver even in the gloom, lips moving in prayer. Beside her stood two men from the east ward market, their wrists bound with coarse rope. A yo

The west gate square was a sea of shadows and flame. Torches burned along the barricades, their light casting cruel shapes across the timber stacked high in the center. The pyre rose like a beast’s maw, jaws waiting to swallow the bound figures huddled before it.Saraphina crouched with Lucian, Kaelen, and Mirielle in the narrow maw of an alley that bled into the square. The noise of the crowd pressed against them — not the thunder of defiance from before, but a tense, fearful murmur, like the low growl of a beast unsure whether to bite or flee.Soldiers ringed the square in black-tabarded lines, spears gleaming. The banners of Malrec’s purge flapped from the gate towers, the painted sigil — a flame crossed with a sword — stark in the firelight.Saraphina’s breath caught as her eyes found the prisoners. Old Mara was among them, her hair shining silver even in the gloom, lips moving in prayer. Beside her stood two men from the east ward market, their wrists bound with coarse rope. A yo

The council chamber was silent but for the crackle of torches. Shadows lay heavy across the polished stone floor, broken only by the pale gleam of the councilors’ robes. They sat in a half-circle, their faces strained, their voices hushed.Malrec stood at the center like a blade drawn from its sheath. His cloak still smelled of smoke, his eyes sharp with sleepless rage.“You saw it,” he said, voice low but cutting. “She turned my pyre into her pulpit. She mocked me before the entire ward. If she had died there, I would be hailed as savior. Instead, she lives — and the people whisper her name as if it were salvation.”Councilor Veras cleared his throat, his plump fingers fidgeting with the rings on his hand. “The… the ledger copies have already spread. Names of guards, shipments of oil. Too many have seen them to deny—”“Then we do not deny,” Malrec cut in. His gaze burned. “We bury. We drown the truth beneath blood until no one dares to speak it.”A murmur rippled through the chamber.

The safehouse air was too still. Even the crackle of the hearth seemed muted, like sound itself was holding its breath. Saraphina stood near the window, fingers brushing the warped wood of the shutters as if she could read the city’s pulse through the grain.Lucian moved behind her, checking the laces of his gauntlet, the rhythm practiced, steady. It should have been reassuring. Instead it struck her with a sudden wave of unease. The steadiness was too fragile, as if every small motion was meant to mask the danger pressing in unseen.Kaelen’s voice cut through the silence. “We’re waiting for a storm to break,” he muttered, pacing the cramped room like a caged wolf. “And none of us have an umbrella.”Mirielle snapped her head up from the ledger. “Umbrella? Really?”“Call it what you like.” His boots thudded softly against the boards. “I don’t like it. Too quiet outside. The whole city doesn’t go silent at once unless someone makes it.”Saraphina’s hand lingered on the shutters. She sho

The safehouse shutters rattled under the morning wind. Saraphina hadn’t slept. She sat cross-legged by the dying embers of the hearth, her hands clasped tight to keep them from trembling. Lucian dozed on the cot behind her, pale but breathing steadily. Every rise and fall of his chest was a small mercy she clung to.A knock — not on the door, but against the wall panel. The signal.Kaelen moved first, his sword half-drawn before the panel slid open. A wiry boy ducked in, cheeks flushed from running, eyes wide with fear. “They’re marking doors,” he blurted, voice cracking. “Council guards. They’ve got red paint. Every house that spoke for you last night — they’re splashing it on the doors.”Saraphina’s stomach turned cold. “Marking them for what?”The boy swallowed hard. “For burning. Or for dragging. I don’t know. But they say anyone who scrapes the mark away will be cut down where they stand.”Mirielle cursed under her breath and snatched the ledger off the table. “It’s begun. He’s t