Semua Bab Bloodlines Of Fire And Fate: Bab 31 - Bab 40

The guards came before the dream could fade. Steel boots pounded the cement floors beneath her. Keys rattled as the guards edged closer to her cell. The door scraped open and cold air rushed in. “Get up.” No warning. No ceremony. Hands yanked her up, the silver cuffs digging into raw skin. She didn’t resist. She welcomed the pain now. It was the only thing she could feel that wasn’t his teeth at her throat, his growl in her ears. “To the square,” one said. Her chest tightened. She wasn’t ready. But readiness was a luxury they’d stolen from her the moment she voluntarily stepped foot here. The wind outside slapped her across the face. The sky was pale and overcast, even the sky looked ready to shed tears for her. The square was already full of pack members , squashed shoulder to shoulder, their eyes gleaming with that cruel, eager glint. Adrian sat atop his usual platform, like a bored god. Mira knelt at his feet, eyes vacant, a chain tight around her neck. Brina was nowhere t

The courtyard was open and wide, but it felt more like a tomb beneath the ground. Cracked flagstones stretched beneath Evelyn’s feet, littered with shards of shattered pottery and discarded weapons. Ancient oak trees clawed at the sky around the outside of the stone clearing, their twisted branches casting jagged shadows in the moonlight, while the cold stone walls loomed like silent sentinels. A thick, damp scent hung in the air of earth, old blood, and something darker, a rotting promise that danger had already been here and was coming again. Evelyn’s wrists throbbed beneath the unyielding silver cuffs chaining her to the iron post. The cold bit deep into her skin, a constant reminder that she was a prisoner. Her breaths were shallow, heart hammering loud enough to drown out the cautious footsteps of the guards patrolling nearby. Their armor clanked faintly, eyes flickering over her with equal parts suspicion and boredom. But beneath everything, the grinding metal, the muted m

The shadow lands had swallowed them whole, their ragged breaths fading into the thick embrace of ancient pines and moss-draped stones. Damon’s house rose before Evelyn like a fortress of shadows and secrets, its walls wrapped tight in ivy and the scent of pine needles, cool earth, and distant rain. The soft glow of lanterns spilled from small windows, promising warmth and refuge in a world that had turned violent and wild. Inside, the heavy wooden door closed behind them with a solid thud, shutting out the night and its chaos. The air smelled of cedar, old firewood, and something faintly herbal, a small slither of comfort in the midst of their battered lives. Evelyn sank slowly onto a worn leather chair beside the hearth, every muscle in her body screaming in protest. The lingering adrenaline dulled but did not mask the ache, the bruises blooming across her shoulders and ribs like dark, bruised petals. She could still feel the weight of steel, the sting of silver cuffs, the grind

The fire’s soft glow painted the room in warm flickers as Evelyn stirred awake, the ache in her muscles a dull echo from the night’s fight. Around her, the quiet sounds of the others moving in the next room. Brina, Mira, and Kael, it somehow brought a fragile comfort to her. She rose slowly, wrapped a worn blanket around her shoulders, and moved to the doorway where the faint murmur of voices teased at her guarded heart. Gathered by the hearth, the four of them—Brina clutching a steaming cup, Mira leaning against her shoulder, Kael pacing restlessly, and Damon standing watchful—felt like shards of broken hope pieced together by necessity. Their eyes met hers with a mixture of relief and exhaustion, and though words were sparse, the weight of survival hung heavily in the air. Brina’s voice, cracked but resolute, broke the silence. “We were scared we lost you to the dungeons, that you were gone.” Evelyn nodded, her hands tightening around the blanket. “So did I.” Mira’s tired ey

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of leaves outside the window and the steady rhythm of Evelyn’s breathing. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed, mind reaching inward. The world around her faded, replaced by a vast, shifting landscape of shadows and light, to the realm where her wolf, Naviah, dwelled inside of her. A low, resonant growl vibrated through her chest, warm and ancient. Naviah’s presence filled the space, a wild, powerful force with a voice that echoed in the depths of Evelyn’s soul. This was no ordinary companion, but a spirit born of primal power and eternal struggle. “Naviah,” Evelyn whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and longing. “Tell me. Tell me who you are. Why have you waited so long for me? Why have you suffered through endless cycles of pain and rebirth?” The wolf’s voice came like a gust of wind, both fierce and weary. “I am the shadow behind the storm, the howl in the night, the fire that burns and renews. I have w