All Chapters of Until The Last Day: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The water surrounded Camela like ice. She struggled, her breath hitching as her hands flailed through the dark water while she strived to maintain her balance. “Vincent!” Her voice cracked, swallowed by the endless darkness of the black water. Under the surface eyes blinked, hundreds of them unblinking and watching. A scaled tail brushed against her thigh again, slow and deliberate. She froze, her heartbeat pounding louder than her thoughts. From the darkness came a whisper. “Bride…” The voice was gentle, almost sweet—like syrup too thick and sticky—but there was a hard edge to it, a hidden threat wrapped in sweetness. Camela’s throat tightened. “Who’s there?” The water bubbled and something surfaced—a pale face breaking through the waves. It wasn’t human; its skin was too smooth, its mouth too wide, with lips curling into a smile that never reached its cold eyes. “You fall, and we catch,” it whispered. “We keep what enters the cage.” Camela kicked back in panic, but mor

The chain lunged for her throat. Camela screamed in terror and she recoiled, but Vincent pulled her close, positioning himself in front of her protectively. The molten links of the chain crashed against his chestplate with a sound like snapping bones, sending sparks flying. “Vincent!” she shouted. He pushed her away, baring his teeth. “Run!” But the chamber offered no path for escape. The walls loomed too closely, the wolves were too close at hand, and the council watched like statues carved from shadow.The chain hissed like it had a mind of its own. Its links twisted and clinked against the marble floor as it wrapped around them both. Camela pressed her back against Vincent’s. “It’s moving like it can think.”“It can,” Vincent replied darkly. “It craves blood.” The red-tied man leaned forward from his chair, his voice calm yet cutting through the chaos. “One chain. One cage. One keeper.” Her heart raced. “What does that mean?” He smiled faintly. “It will determine who stays l

The torches crackled and hissed, their flames reaching up high and narrow like they wanted to tear the chamber apart. Camela stumbled back, gripping her burning palm. The oath still crawled beneath her skin, her blood pulsing like an unstoppable drumbeat. Vincent grasped her shoulders. “Camela…look at me.” Her eyes were wide and unblinking. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t say that.” “You did,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I heard you. Everyone here heard you.” The council members leaned forward in their seats, quietly observing her. The wolves roamed the marble floor, their suits rustling and claws scratching faint marks into the stone. From the elevated seat, the red-tied man spoke softly. “Blood speaks more truth than words. An oath made in blood cannot be undone.” Camela gasped for breath. “But that wasn’t me.” Vincent’s grip on her shoulder tightened as he said gently. “It wasn’t you; it was the bond. You forced this upon yourself.” The red-tied man smiled faintly. “S

The iron gates creaked as they swung open, their pointed bars resembling sharp fangs. The wolves, dressed in well-tailored suits, stepped back, their yellow eyes shining in the dim light. Vincent walked through the entrance without a second thought, his shadow stretching out behind him. Camela froze where she stood.“Vincent!” Her voice wavered. “Hold on!” But he didn't look back. His broad shoulders moved steadily forward, each step calm and deliberate. One of the wolves grinned, snapping its teeth. “The council welcomes your blood, fox.” Blood. The word lingered in the air like thick smoke.Camela rushed forward, but the gate slammed shut right in front of her. The sound echoed through her bones. She gripped the bars tightly, her knuckles turning white. “Let me through!” she yelled. The wolf closest to her leaned in, his hot breath smelling strongly of blood. “Only those who take the oath can enter,” he growled. “I’m with him!” she shouted again. The wolf let out a low chu

The wind from the cliff bit into Camela’s skin. Her bare feet sank slightly into the wet grass, and each breath felt sharp in her lungs because of the cold salt air. The pale brides stood still, like statues made of bone, their shredded gowns fluttering in the wind while their black nails shimmered in the dim light. The one who had spoken took another step forward. Her voice was gentle but rough, like sandpaper. “At last, we meet, sister.” Camela felt her throat tighten. “I’m…not your sister!” The bride tilted her head with a fragile smile. “You will be.” Behind them, the sea roiled as if it were alive. The waves didn’t crash; they curled back on themselves, pulling dark foam up on the rocks. The massive figure rising from the water made the ground tremble.Camela took a step back. “What is that?” No one replied.The figure continued to emerge, hunched and terrifying, with a crown of nails driven deep into its skull. The nails caught the faint light, each one rusty and bent at