All Chapters of Bloodlines Of Fire And Fate: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Wolves prowled at the edge of the firelight, their eyes gleaming all kinds of colours, their bodies half-shifted, fur rippling over humanoid forms like smoke. Lips curled to bare jagged teeth. Brina whimpered behind her, clutching Evelyn’s coat. Kael was already moving, blade flashing in the firelight as he stepped between them and the approaching circle. His voice was low, cold. “Stay behind me.” But Evelyn’s eyes weren’t on the attackers. They were on Damon. His fur seemed to suck up the light surrounding it, an endless shadow rippling with power. He was larger than any wolf Evelyn had ever seen, too large. His massive paws sank into the earth like roots, claws glinting like obsidian shards. And his eyes, red. A deep and dark crimson red, like burning coals. Red as fresh blood spilled on snow. Not the crimson of rage, but of inevitability. The fact that around Damon, death was guaranteed. He was the punisher, the executor. The one who helped death find those who deserved

The first thing Evelyn noticed was the silence. Not the peaceful kind that you find when your wanding through the woods listening to the birds sing. Not like fresh snow on a dark sleeping village before the hustle of the day begins. This was thick, heavy, suffocating. And all too familiar too Evelyn. The village square hadn’t changed, not really. The stone well still sat in the center, flanked by timber houses whose windows stared like blank eyes. But there were more people than she remembered. More faces. Wolves standing shoulder to shoulder, their eyes sharp with expectation. And every single one of them was here to watch her fall. The moment they crossed the border, guards closed in. Wolves in black leathers, their insignias stitched in silver thread, weapons gleaming. Damon and Kael flanked her immediately, muscles tensed. Surrounding her and Brina, keeping them out of reach from the guards. “Don’t move,” one guard barked. Evelyn raised her chin. “We’re guests. We came as s

They dragged her out of the cell before dawn. Chains bit into her wrists and ankles, heavy with silver. Each step sent fresh pain flooding through her veins. Evelyn kept her head high anyway. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. When the courtyard came into view, her stomach turned. The entire pack was there. Wolves lined the square shoulder to shoulder, faces lit with cruel curiosity. Children perched on rooftops. Old women clutched shawls tight around their shoulders. And at the center of it all was Adrian. He sat on a raised throne of dark wood, golden hair gleaming in the pale light. His smile was sharp and cold as a blade. “Bring her forward,” he ordered. Evelyn didn’t resist as guards shoved her into the center of the square. “Today,” Adrian announced, “We give the pack what it deserves... justice.” His voice carried over the crowd. “For too long this traitor has walked free, her crimes unpunished.” Gasps rippled through the gathering. Murmurs rose like angry was

The first thing Damon noticed when they got to the village was the silence. Not the hush of villagers as they walk around the centre. But the stillness of a predator waiting to strike. It was thick and suffocating. The kind of silence that comes before immense blood shed. The village square looked like any other, a stone well at its center, timber houses facing the village square with empty windows, but the air was different. Heavy and charged. Wolves packed shoulder to shoulder, their eyes gleaming with expectation. Every single one of them had come to see Evelyn break. The moment they crossed the border, guards swept in. Wolves in black leather, insignias stitched in silver thread. Weapons gleamed as if freshly polished for the occasion. Damon’s shoulders tensed, Kael falling into step at Evelyn’s left like a shadow while Damon took her right. “Don’t move,” one guard barked. Evelyn lifted her chin. “We’re guests. We came as summoned. I was told to attend a court hear

Days passed. Or maybe it was just one long day that never ended. There were no windows in the cell. No way to track time except by the stale crusts of bread the guards tossed in twice a day, and the slosh of water that barely rinsed the blood from her mouth. Her body was healing, but slowly. The silver cuffs burned a new ring of raw skin into her wrists each time she shifted. They wanted her to forget who she was. But Evelyn hadn’t forgotten. Not since Naviah came alive beneath her skin. Since then, pain had become something else. Not comfort. Not weakness. But purpose. She used the hours she had to train. At first, it was small things like focusing her hearing, tracking the guards and their rotations, memorizing the subtle shifts of air when someone was watching. Naviah pushed her harder each time. “Again,” her wolf would whisper, claws scratching inside her chest. “Breathe slower. Let the pain sharpen, not dull. Hold still until you can hear the blood move in their veins.”