Semua Bab Bound to the Enemy’s Bed: Bab 111 - Bab 120

He woke to silence so heavy it could have been stone.The Vale was no longer a battlefield. It was a cathedral — rebuilt by something ancient and wrong. The shattered pillars had straightened themselves, fused from obsidian veins that pulsed faintly beneath his feet. The air shimmered, thick with dust and scent of burnt magic. Every breath felt like drawing glass into his lungs.Draven rose slowly, every muscle screaming. The last thing he remembered was Elaria’s voice— her hand shoving him out of the path of the blast, the world tearing apart. Then the light. Now, only this silence.His sword lay a few feet away, its edge blackened, the runes along the hilt faintly glowing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He reached for it—and froze.The heartbeat wasn’t his.It came from beneath the ground.Deep. Rhythmic. Too slow for any living thing.The Vale breathes.The thought wasn’t his either. It slid across the edges of his mind like oil—familiar, intimate, wrong. He straightened, scanning th

There was no sky anymore—only light and echo.Draven stood in a world made of reflection: every motion thrown back at him, every heartbeat answered. The air trembled with the sound of a thousand wings beating in rhythm with his pulse. The mirrored Vale bent around him, repeating his form until he couldn’t tell where he ended and the copy began.The reflection—his other self—watched with an expression that was too calm. The gold in its eyes had deepened to molten metal. When it spoke, its voice came from every direction. “You built yourself on defiance. Let’s see if defiance alone can stand against what you truly are.”Steel hissed as they moved. The sound didn’t travel; it multiplied. Sparks burst, scattering into constellations that hung mid-air, as if time hesitated to decide whether they should fall.Every swing struck memory loose.When Draven parried the first blow, the ground rippled into a vision of the fortress on fire. He smelled smoke, heard Elaria calling his name through

Elaria woke to silence that wasn’t silent at all.The ruins breathed. The very stones of the Vale pulsed with a low vibration, a heartbeat that wasn’t human. Ash hung in the air like drifting snow; when she inhaled, it tasted of iron and old prayers. The world had gone pale, as if every color had been scraped away in the night.For a moment she didn’t remember how she’d fallen.Only the echo of Draven’s hand tearing free from hers, the light swallowing him whole, and the whisper that had split the air: You’ve freed her.Her own blood burned under her skin now, brighter than any wound. The mark at her wrist—the bond they’d shared—had turned to a thin thread of gold light that pulsed like a vein, fading toward the horizon where the rift had been.“Draven.”The word left her as a breath and a vow.She pushed herself upright, muscles trembling, shards of mirrored glass clinging to her palms. Around her the Vale had collapsed into a labyrinth of half-melted walls and floating fragment

The lake was not supposed to be awake.It had always been still — an obsidian stretch beneath the Vale’s scarred sky, reflecting what the world chose to show it. But now, the surface rippled like breathing glass, the faint shimmer of moonlight bent at strange, wrong angles, as if two different heavens were fighting for the same sky.Elaria’s boots sank into the wet earth. Her reflection followed, hesitant, fractured into a dozen mirrored shards.“Draven?” she whispered, her voice carried softly by the fog. The air around her shivered — as if even the sound of his name disturbed the fragile fabric of what remained.No answer. Only the pulse — that deep, rhythmic echo she had begun to feel beneath her own skin since the explosion. It beat like a heart that wasn’t hers.She knelt, and the water moved toward her.Not a wave. A reach.For a fleeting instant she saw herself — not as she was, but as the lake remembered her: silver eyes like open wounds of moonlight, hair flowing as if caught

The light went out — not suddenly, but as if the world itself took a slow, shuddering breath before forgetting how to exhale.When sight returned, it came fractured — flashes of silver and black, fire and mirror, faces illuminated by the glow of something that was no longer the sun.Kael was the first to move. His voice, hoarse but commanding, broke through the stunned silence.“Sound the call! Now!”The old horn — once used only to summon the council during war — rose from the rubble, its tone warped and mournful as it rolled across the mountains. The sound trembled as though even the air resisted its purpose, echoing through both worlds at once.Kairis stumbled to her knees beside the ruined sigil, her hands slick with blood and light. “It’s tearing faster than I can bind it,” she rasped. “The Veil isn’t a wall anymore. It’s a wound.”She thrust her palms into the earth, whispering words too old for the human tongue. Blue light spidered out across the broken floor, racing toward the