Semua Bab Bloodlines Of Fire And Fate: Bab 1 - Bab 6

A sickly blend of lavender and death clung to the room.Evelyn sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed, clutching Sophia’s fragile hand between both of hers. The child’s skin was cold, colder than it should be even in winter but Evelyn refused to believe the end had come. Not yet. Not while she still breathed.Sophia was dying, and the world refused to stop spinning.Outside, wind rustled the trees, and rain whispered against the windows. Inside, time stood still. The candles around the bed flickered low, their flames dimming as if in mourning.“Mama,” Sophia rasped, barely audible.“I’m here,” Evelyn whispered, bringing the little hand to her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”Sophia’s once-vibrant golden eyes, so like her father’s, flickered open. “Is Daddy coming I want to see the pretty lights… just once?”Evelyn’s breath hitched. A lie pressed against her tongue like broken glass. She swallowed it down.“He’s on his way,” she whispered instead. “He promised.”Sophia gave a weak smile

The dream was soft at first—just sunlight, lavender and warmth. Sophia’s laughter echoed in the distance, a high, lilting sound that used to fill their home. Evelyn turned toward it, bare feet skimming cool grass, her arms open. The sky above was endless twilight, and the stars whispered her name like a song. Her heart full of love and Sophia, her beautiful baby girl. Then the ground cracked beneath her, and the scent of lavender turned to metallic tinged blood. Sophia’s voice went silent. And Evelyn fell, screaming, into darkness. She woke choking on her own sob. The room was dim, the air warm but thick with smoke and herbs. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and her body throbbed in deep, punishing waves of pain. She gasped, blinking rapidly, heart racing like a trapped animal. “Easy now.” The voice was dry as dust and steady as stone. A figure moved into view, stooped but sharp-eyed, with a thick braid of silver hair and a mug cradled in both hands. She looked like sh

The fruit basket dug into her hip as Evelyn stepped into the square. The morning market buzzed with tension—louder than usual, tighter. People whispered behind cupped hands. Some left their stalls unattended altogether. Others hovered near the fountain, pretending to shop while keeping one eye on the raised platform in the center. Something was happening. Something bad. Evelyn adjusted the scarf over her hair and kept moving, the scent of peaches clinging to her sleeves. Her wolf shifted beneath her skin, uneasy. Restless. She’d lived in this village for weeks now, and the rhythm had become familiar: bread at dawn, gossip by noon, peace by dusk. But today the air was different. Thicker. Charged. Like a storm waiting to strike. She moved toward the apple cart, nodding once at the vendor, when a horn blared—low and deep—like the sound of bones grinding together. The crowd fell silent. Then they parted. And he stepped into view. At first, Evelyn saw only the wolf.