Lahat ng Kabanata ng The werewolf king is my mate. : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

BEFORE THE STORM HITSI woke up before the knock this time. I woke up because my chest felt too full, like my lungs had forgotten how much air they were supposed to take in.I lay there staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks I had memorized during the days I refused to leave this room. There were seven long ones and one that curved oddly to the left. I used to trace them with my eyes until my thoughts slowed enough for sleep.This morning, they didn’t help.The dream still clung to me. Not images exactly, more like impressions. A forest that wasn’t Silvercrest. Trees that leaned inward. A moon that felt closer than it should have been. And the feeling of standing on four legs without knowing how I knew that was wrong.I pressed my palm to my chest.My wolf stirred, not fully awake, not asleep either. It felt like she was listening to something I couldn’t hear.A knock came, gentle.“Emily,” Grandma’s voice called through the door. “Are you awake?”“Yes,” I answered quickly

WHO IS LIAM?I will not confront them anymore.That is something I learned about after the saga with the rogue attack which I'm not even sure whether it was in my head or not.But I want answers, and I know I won't get them by asking. Heck Damon seems like an figment of my imagination at this point, so I will I watch, I will listen and seek the truth until it trips over its own feet and lands in front of me.So after leaving my grandparents’ study, I do nothing that would alert anyone.I do not storm into the halls. I do not slam doors. I do not seek out Elio, Liam, whatever his name is, and demand explanations that I will gaslight me.Instead, I smile.I nod and move through the mansion like everything is fine.And while everyone assumes the moment has passed, I begin working.The mansion has its rhythms. I learned that early on. The creak near the east stairwell always happens on the third step. The servants rotate shifts at precise intervals. My grandmother takes tea at dusk

FINDING OUT WHERE I AM (II)A sound cuts through the dark.Footsteps.Not echoes. Real.They approach cautiously, measured, like someone walking through a space they respect and fear in equal measure.The presence I felt earlier stirs.The pressure shifts again.My wolf stiffens.The footsteps stop.A voice speaks.It is muffled, distant, like it has to travel through layers of stone and suppression to reach me.“She should not have come down here,” the voice says.Another voice responds.“She was always going to.”Silence stretches between them.“The room is reacting strongly,” the first voice says.“It always does,” the second replies. “When it recognizes blood.”My wolf reacts violently to that word.Blood.It thrashes, slamming against the containment with renewed force. Panic surges through me, sharp and disorienting.The room responds immediately.Pressure spikes.My vision, what little exists of it, fractures into white noise.The wolf’s movements slow.Not by choice.By force.

FINALLY, BEAMS OF THE LIGHT !I wake up choking on the smell of soil.Not the clean kind from the gardens near the mansion. This is darker, heavier, like earth that has never seen sunlight. It fills my lungs before I am fully aware that I am breathing again, and I cough hard, rolling onto my side.My palms scrape against stone.Cold.Solid. Real.My eyes fly open.I am back in the basement.At least, that is what my mind insists at first. The curved walls are still there, the symbols faint and dormant, the air thick and damp. I am lying exactly where I fell, half turned on my side, one arm tucked awkwardly beneath my ribs.Relief hits me fast and sharp.A dream, then.Just a dream.I suck in a deep breath and push myself upright, heart still hammering. My head throbs, but not unbearably. My body feels heavy, like I slept too long in the wrong position.“Okay,” I whisper hoarsely. “Okay.”The sound echoes back to me, too clearly.I glance down at my hands.They are filthy.Dark s

SO, I'M NOT MAD?My hands are still shaking.Not from fear anymore, not entirely. Something else has settled under my skin, restless and sharp, like an echo that refuses to fade. The forest has gone quiet again behind us, deceptively calm, as if it never reached for me at all.Damien releases my arm.The absence of his touch hits harder than I expect.I take a step back immediately, putting space between us before my body can betray me further. My wolf protests, surging forward in irritation, tugging painfully at my chest.No.Not now.Not him.“You disappeared,” I say, the words spilling out faster than I intend. “You vanished and everyone acted like I made you up. Like I imagined you. Like I was unwell for even saying your name.”He does not look at me.His gaze stays fixed on the forest, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. He looks like someone bracing for impact rather than someone about to answer a question.“I know,” he says quietly.That is it.That is all.My chest tightens sharp