บททั้งหมดของ My Mate's Father Claimed Me: บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

 Lyra’s POVThe sound I made tore the sky open.It ripped out of my chest like the world itself had reached inside me and demanded proof that I still belonged to it. The breath burned. It scraped my throat raw as it forced its way out, violent and uncontrollable, and for a heartbeat I thought I was dying all over again.Then the ground caught me hard.My palms hit first, my knees slammed down next. My chest followed, and the air punched out of my lungs so fast my vision went white. I choked, dragging air back into myself in broken gasps that tasted like ash, light, and living earth.I was alive.The realization hit harder t

 POV: Lyra“I am not finished.”The words came out of me raw and shaking, torn from somewhere deeper than power, deeper than fear, they were not spoken to anyone in particular, but the world heard them anyway. The ground beneath my feet trembled, not violently, but like a held breath finally released.Kael’s arms wrapped around me the instant my knees buckled.“Lyra,” he said sharply. “Stay with me.”“I am,” I whispered, though my vision blurred. “I am still here.”His grip tightened, one hand pressed firmly between my shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of my head, his scent, smoke and pine and blood, grounded me. I leaned into him, letting his strength hold

 POV: Kenny“The light is not calling me.”Nobody spoke, I stood barefoot on the cold stone floor, my toes curling slightly as if the ground itself was breathing. The fractured medallion floated in front of me, glowing softly, its cracks pulsing in a slow rhythm that matched my chest.Lyra’s voice came first, careful. “What do you mean it is not calling you?”“It is not pulling,” I said. “It is not dragging me forward. It is just… there.”Kael shifted behind me. I heard the scrape of his boots before I felt his presence.“That thing has never waited for anyone,” he said. “It takes.”

  POV: Elara“I woke up tasting ash, and I knew the future had already screamed.”The words left Elara’s mouth before she realized she was awake.She sat bolt upright on the healing cot, heart hammering, fingers clutching at her throat as if she could pull the taste from her tongue.The room was dim, lit only by the soft blue glow of the healing runes embedded in the stone walls, for a single, terrifying second, she did not recognize where she was.Then the ache hit, It started behind her eyes, a pressure that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, and traveled down her spine like cold fire. Elara sucked in a sharp breath and pressed her palms against her te

 “The child does not belong to the pattern.”Eternity is a sequence of hunger and consumption, It is a long, dark thread that pulls the fabric of the physical world into the mouth of the abyss, we have tasted the souls of kings, the screams of stars, and the hollow echoes of those who thought they were gods.We know the geometry of fear, we understand the texture of the living but as we peer through the jagged fracture left by the shattered medallion, we find a hole in our own understanding, the boy stands in the center of the hollows, and for the first time in the history of the dark, the dark is confused.“why can we not reach him?”The question ripples through our vast, formless consciousness like a stone dropped into a black lake.