Semua Bab Bloodlines Of Fire And Fate: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The air at the top of Moonsblood Peak was thin and bitter, cutting at Evelyn’s lungs with every shallow breath. Even from the edge of the clearing, she could feel the charged energy pulsing from the two wolves locked in combat below. Her own wolf, Naviah, stirred inside her, restless and fierce, whispering warnings that made her claws itch. “Wait,” the voice hissed. “He will call you. Watch. Learn. Strike only when he says.” Evelyn’s heart hammered in her chest, but she obeyed, her body tense and coiled, a predator trapped in hesitation. She could smell the rage and power rolling off Damon like a tangible wave. Caleb—his wolf—was fully awake now, black fur bristling, eyes burning like embers. The young wolf, Soren, moved with speed and brutality, teeth flashing, claws raking the rocky ground, the raw hunger for revenge clear in every strike. “Stay,” Damon had told her before transforming, his voice calm but heavy with authority. She had nodded, even as fear knotted her stomach.

The safehouse was eerily quiet, the morning light filtering through the narrow windows, falling over dust motes and the faint scent of what had been a struggle. Evelyn’s hands trembled as she stepped inside, her boots scuffing softly against the worn floorboards. Every sense was screaming at her, every instinct coiling tight in her chest. She had expected confrontation, she had expected danger but the silence that greeted her felt wrong, unnatural, a hollow echo of what should have been. “Kael? Mira? Brina?” she called, her voice small but sharp, bouncing off the walls. No reply came, only the faint creak of the wood and the distant whisper of wind sneaking through cracks in the walls. Damon was already moving, his steps urgent, scanning the room, lifting cushions, peering into corners. He exuded a quiet tension, the kind that set nerves on edge. Evelyn could feel his energy through the bond, every pulse of worry vibrating against her own. “Evelyn, check the back rooms,” he orde

The scent of blood hit Damon like a hammer to the skull. It wasn’t just blood. It was Kael’s. He knew it instantly, the way a wolf always knows his pack. The metallic tang burned his throat, thick and heavy in the air, almost choking. His chest tightened, and his claws flexed unconsciously as he ran faster, his paws carving into the dirt. Evelyn sprinted the opposite way, but he didn’t dare look at her. Not now. His focus was narrowed to one single truth: Kael was near, and Kael was in pain. “Steady,” his wolf murmured inside him. “Do not lose yourself. He needs you.” Damon grit his teeth, eyes blazing. Kael. Hold on. Branches whipped past. The forest blurred around him. Every heartbeat thundered in his ears, and the stink of old battle and spilt blood grew thicker the deeper they plunged into the trees. Somewhere ahead, ravens shrieked, a cruel chorus that made the hair rise on the back of Damon’s neck. When they broke through the treeline, Damon skidded to a hal

The fire’s glow cast soft, flickering shadows across the room, warming the chill that clung to her skin. She sat curled on the sofa, Damon close beside her, his body solid and grounding, radiating a heat that made her pulse race. The world outside might have been filled with dangers, nightmares, and the ever-present threat of Adrian, but here, now, it was just them. Damon’s hand brushed hers almost by accident at first, then lingered, his fingers brushing her skin in a way that made her forget how to breathe. Every small touch sent ripples through her body, awakening parts of her that had been muted for too long, dulled by fear and grief. “You’re quiet,” he murmured, voice low and rough, vibrating against her ear. “I’m thinking,” she admitted, biting her lip as his gaze held hers. There was something in the way he looked at her—possessive, protective, and yet… unguarded. Vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed anyone to see. Damon leaned in slowly, their faces barely inches apar

The market was alive with noise. Evelyn tugged her hood tighter as she and Aleta slipped into the stream of villagers. Stalls spilled out along the dirt street, their counters stacked with vegetables, dried meats, and fish in baskets of rough-woven cloth. The air was thick with the smell of spices, woodsmoke, and the sweet tang of candied nuts roasting over an open flame. Merchants shouted over each other, their voices battling for customers, while children darted between legs with sticky hands and wide eyes. On any other day, it might have felt normal. Almost peaceful. Almost safe. But today Evelyn’s pulse wouldn’t steady. Every creak of a cart wheel, every too-long glance made her wolf stir uneasily under her skin. “Keep your head low,” Aleta murmured beside her, her voice soft but steady. She carried a basket, trying to look the part of a simple villager come for flour and herbs. “No one’s looking for trouble here.” Evelyn forced herself to nod, though her heart drummed t