Semua Bab Beast Billionaire Claim : Bab 161 - Bab 170

The eclipse had ended, but the silence it left behind clung to the Vale like fog. Smoke still curled over the valley where bonfires had burned through the long night, their embers dulling against the pale wash of dawn. For hours, no wolf had shifted, no witch had dared cast. Even the river seemed to drag slower as though the world had been forced to hold its breath.Maxim Vale stood on the cliff above the city, his chest rising and falling like a man who had fought through every layer of the underworld. Zara leaned against him, her hand still warm from where she had woven flame and blood into the seal that had kept the world from splitting apart. They were alive, and the Vale had not fallen—but the victory carried a taste of ash.She turned her face toward him, her eyes shadowed but unyielding. “Do you feel it?”Maxim’s throat tightened. He hadn’t spoken it aloud, not even when the last shadow had passed from the moon. “It’s not gone,” he admitted. “The bond, the seal—whatever we made

The library beneath Silver & Vale smelled of smoke, parchment, and dust too old to have a name. Its shelves ran like ribs across the belly of the Vale, carved long before Maxim’s grandfather ever laid stone upon stone. Tonight, every flickering torch felt like a witness, every shadow listening.Maxim’s hand tightened on the iron clasp of the ledger. It had been buried in a chest beneath broken marble, sealed with wax and silver runes so old they hummed like dying bees when disturbed. The cover was blackened leather, cracked by centuries, its edges seared as though fire itself had tried to erase it. Yet the sigil stamped into the center—the Vale crest, crowned wolf pierced by crescent—remained intact.Zara stood at his side, her breath shallow. “You said your archives held records of treaties. This isn’t a treaty book, Maxim. This feels… heavier.”He met her eyes, their storm-grey searching his. The unease in her voice struck something deep, something he didn’t want to give shape. “If

The firelight flickered against the carved stone walls of the council chamber, shadows rippling as though alive. Zara stood near the long table, her fingers brushing the edge of a parchment she hadn’t been able to read for the past ten minutes. Words blurred together, useless under the pressure thrumming through the air.She didn’t need magic to know Maxim was unraveling.He sat at the far end of the chamber, hands braced on either side of his chair, knuckles white. His chest rose and fell too fast, his skin damp with sweat despite the cold draft sliding in from the vaulted windows. His eyes—those storm-dark eyes that always anchored her—were fractured by a gleam not his own.The Beast.Zara’s throat tightened. The eclipse had promised relief, a sealing, a balance between his cursed inheritance and his will. But balance was a lie. What the eclipse had done was tease open the lock. And now, every heartbeat was another crack.“Maxim,” she whispered, voice steady despite the terror spark

The wind off the Vale carried the scent of ash and damp earth, heavy with the unease of a land fraying at its seams. Zara stood alone on the balcony of the east wing, palms braced against the cold stone, staring at the horizon where storm clouds hung unnaturally low. The world looked tired, as though the eclipse had stripped something essential from it and left only the hollow frame behind.Behind her, the fire in Maxim’s study snapped and popped, throwing restless shadows across the room. He had been pacing for hours, caught between fury and dread, while advisors whispered about rebellion and fragments of cursed stone. But Zara hadn’t told him what the Hollow’s emissary’s words had burned into her mind: the seal lives in your veins.At first, she had denied it. The thought that her blood—the strange hybrid gift that had marked her from birth—was the tether holding the fractured seal together was unbearable. Yet the evidence grew undeniable. When the seal quivered, when the rifts in i

The old texts called it the Binding Flame—a ritual older than the Vale itself. A last resort, meant to shackle what could not be tamed. Maxim had read the words by moonlight, the edges of the parchment scorched as if fire itself had tried to erase the warning. Only the soul willing to burn can command the blaze.Now, the room around him flickered with that same defiant light. The manor’s lower sanctum—once used for oath ceremonies—had been stripped bare. Sigils scorched the stone floor, carved deep enough to bleed heat. Braziers lined the walls, filled with molten coals that pulsed like living hearts. Every heartbeat of the flame felt synced to his own .Zara stood at the threshold, her breath unsteady. The scent of sage and charred iron filled the air. “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”“I’m not alone,” Maxim said, his voice low, roughened by the Beast that lurked beneath. He was shirtless, his chest marked with the symbols of the rite, drawn in ash and blood. “You’re here.”“That’