Lahat ng Kabanata ng BLOOD FOR A BRIDE : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

-MALRIK KAINE- The hall had grown quieter after dinner, though the weight of their presence still lingered. Silverware no longer clinked, voices no longer tested the air, but the silence wasn’t peace. It was sharp, heavy, and edged with too many unspoken things. “Goodnight.” She whispered as she left under the escort of Liya, Laina, and Afsana. I’d watched her go, ruby eyes glancing back once, as if she wanted me to follow. But not tonight. Tonight was for the devils I had once called kin. The doors shut behind the women, and the atmosphere shifted. Drayan lounged in the corner, still smirking like a man amused by a game only he understood. Gaya sat gracefully, her silver hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes never losing that strange warmth she had directed at Asaraiah. Kavin, as always, was the one who broke the silence. “Ever since her…” His voice was calm, measured, but it cut straight to bone. “…I never thought you would settle down. And yet here you are. With a h

-ASARAIAH KAINE-Calla had begged. That was the only reason I was standing here now, heart thudding against the ribcage like it was trying to escape.The gallery was bright, white-walled, humming with low music and the shuffle of polished shoes. Strangers in sleek black coats and champagne dresses drifted between frames hung in careful order. My frames. My work. My world splashed across canvases I’d painted in stolen hours, in shadows, never meaning for them to leave the safety of my studio.“I can’t believe you almost skipped this,” Calla whispered, tugging me toward the nearest wall where a cluster of people leaned in close, murmuring over a painting. My painting. “Asa, look at them. They love it.”I wanted to melt into the floor. The faces on the canvas ,distorted, smeared in deep tones of red and black, weren’t supposed to be seen like this. They weren’t meant to be understood. They were nightmares, bottled.“Love is a strong word,” I muttered, clutching the strap of my bag tigh

—Asaraiah Kaine—“Come on, Gaya has plans,” Drayan urged as we walked back into the mansion.I hesitated at the entrance, still tasting Kavin’s words, bloodline, like fire crawling along my veins.My ruby eyes reflected faintly in the polished floors, too sharp, too alive, almost warning the world to stay away.Drayan smirked knowingly. “Still thinking about him?”I shook my head. “No… just everything.”He didn’t press. Not today. He merely leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, smirk teasing but his gaze serious. “Fine. But tonight, you’ll need more than thoughts.”“Thoughts?” I asked, heart already hammering.Gaya appeared like a whirlwind of perfume and silk, bright energy in contrast to the heavy tension still clinging to me. “Asa! There you are! Hurry! We don’t have time to waste!”“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound steady.“The gala,” she said brightly, eyes gleaming. “Malrik is hosting it tonight. Guests from everywhere. The kin

-ASARAIAH KAINE-The wine dripped down my hair, cold and sticky, sliding into the neckline of my gown. Gasps ripped through the ballroom. Phones almost came out, almostx before the weight of Malrik’s glare froze everyone in place.Her name was Selene. Selene stood there, smiling like the devil in heels. Her crimson dress clung like liquid fire, diamonds flashing against her throat. The stem of her empty glass dangled carelessly from her fingers.“Know your place, human,” she said, her voice sharp enough to slice through the music.And then—she slapped me.The sound cracked across the ballroom. My head jerked to the side, cheek burning, pride burning hotter. The crowd rippled with sharp inhales, stifled laughter, predatory eyes feasting on humiliation.Before I could even react, Malrik moved.One second Selene was standing smug, the next his hand had clamped around her wrist, grip iron, his body angled in front of me like a wall of black suit and fury.The music stopped. The whisper

—MALRIK KAINE—The moment her hand slipped from mine, the ballroom fractured.Not loud. Not violent.Silent. Final.The whispers cut sharper than Selene’s slap ever could.She left him. She pulled away from Kaine.I should have followed her. My instincts screamed to. But my rage pinned me to the marble floor heavier than stone.Because I knew what they saw. Every man in this room who wanted me dead, every woman who wanted my throne, they saw me falter. They saw her run.Selene’s smile curled like she had just won.“Pathetic,” she breathed, and the last drop of her wine slipped from her glass onto the marble, blooming red like blood.The last thread of my control snapped.My hand closed around her throat before the crowd had time to gasp. I slammed her against the nearest pillar, stone shuddering under the force.Gasps broke out. A few sharp laughs. But no one dared step forward.Her nails clawed at my wrist, but her eyes glimmered with sick delight. “There he is. The real Malrik.”“Ca