Lahat ng Kabanata ng FORBIDDEN ROMANCE: A KISS OF BLOOD & MOONLIGHT: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The air in the dimly lit chamber was thick with unease. Candles flickered in their sconces, casting elongated shadows across the high, arched ceilings. The scent of smoldering incense and drying herbs filled the space, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood—Azrael’s blood.She lay upon the grand, canopied bed, her once-radiant form reduced to something frail and unrecognizable. Her skin, pale as death, had lost its luster. Dark bruises marred her slender arms, and her lips were cracked and nearly colorless. Her once-sharp, golden eyes were sunken beneath shadowed lids, flickering open only in moments of tortured consciousness before slipping back into the abyss of pain.Every noble and high-ranking official had been dismissed, save for a handful of key figures. The tension in the room was suffocating, the silence thick enough to choke.King Valerion stood at the foot of the bed, his crimson eyes dark with barely contained rage. His brother, Avalon, stood beside him, his expres

The grand hall was heavy with silence, a suffocating weight pressing down on the assembled court. The torches flickered against the towering marble columns, their dim light barely reaching the vaulted ceiling. Shadows stretched long across the polished obsidian floors, mirroring the grim expressions worn by the nobility.The news had already spread. The witches had failed. The mark remained.And Azrael was dying.At the head of the room, Valerion sat on his throne, his fingers clenched into fists against the armrests. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his frame betrayed the storm raging beneath the surface.Before him, the noble families and high-ranking officials of the vampire court had gathered. Their voices, once hushed, now swelled with anger and uncertainty.“She is deteriorating by the hour,” one nobleman said, his voice tight with barely concealed frustration. “What do you propose we do, my King?”Another scoffed. “The answer is clear. We should have executed t

The training grounds roared with the sounds of battle—clashing claws, snarls of dominance, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the earth. The midday sun cast a golden hue over the warriors of Silver Moon, illuminating sweat-slicked bodies and dirt-streaked faces as they honed their skills in combat. Draven stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed over his chest, his piercing brown eyes scrutinizing every movement with the precision of a seasoned warrior.His pack was strong—one of the strongest in existence—but strength alone wasn’t enough. Strength without discipline was recklessness. Strength without control was destruction. And strength without purpose was nothing.At the center of the training grounds stood his Gamma, Eryx, a towering force of muscle and primal might. Unlike Draven who ruled with absolute authority and a keen mind, or Cyrus, who balanced reason with battle prowess, Eryx was pure aggression, the embodiment of unrelenting combat. He had shifted into his Lycan f

Draven’s grip tightened on the letter as his mother’s sharp gaze fixed on him. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—one he knew all too well.He resisted the urge to glance at Cyrus, keeping his expression neutral."It’s nothing. Cyrus and I were just going over potential battle strategies. The vampires have been unpredictable, and we need to be prepared for anything.”Diana's eyes narrowed, her brows knitting together—clearly not convinced."Battle strategies?" she repeats slowly, her gaze flicking between him and Cyrus. "Then why did you hide the letter the moment I walked in?”She stepped closer, suspicion carved into her gaze. "Draven, I raised you. I know when you’re lying to me.”Cyrus remained silent, knowing it's not his place to interfere, while Draven tried his best to keep his expression neutral, internally cursing his mother's perceptiveness."You expect me to believe that?" she asked, her tone deceptively calm. "Then let me see it."Draven tightened his grip on

The carriage rocked gently over the uneven dirt path, its wheels cutting through the morning mist that blanketed the forest floor. The crisp air smelled of damp earth and fallen leaves, but inside the carriage, the atmosphere was thick with something else entirely.Dread.Valerion sat rigid, his crimson eyes locked onto the fragile figure before him. Azrael lay on the cushioned seat, unmoving, her skin was almost translucent, the veins all around her body were almost visible . She looked worse than before—worse than he ever thought possible. Her lips were dry and colorless and her breathing so shallow it barely stirred the fabric of her gown, it was almost non-existent. The once unbreakable force of his daughter was now reduced to this—hollow, crumbling shadow of the fierce warrior she was.He tightened his grip around her cold fingers."Hold on, Azrael," he whispered, his voice low, almost desperate. "We're almost there."She didn't respond. She hadn't responded in days.Across from