Lahat ng Kabanata ng Crowned in Fire, Baptized in Blood: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Kelly’s POVMy hands haven’t stopped shaking since I walked away from Jake. My heart’s thudding so hard it makes me nauseous. It’s not fear for myself—I gave up caring what happens to me years ago. It’s them. My babies. My twins. If this plan fails, he won’t just kill me.He’ll kill all three of us.And if it works? He’ll still kill me. Slowly. Publicly. Like a warning shot for anyone else who dares betray him.Jake Irwin is a monster wrapped in silk. One of the highest-ranking mafia bosses in the supernatural world. Untouchable. Unforgiving. I’ve seen firsthand what he does to traitors, to those who even breathe the wrong way near him. I’ve buried those people. Burned their bones. Scrubbed the walls of their blood while he whistled over my shoulder. I used to believe I could handle him—absorb every punch, every threat, every cruel game—for their sake. That I could be enough of a shield. But I was wrong. So wrong. And now, every bruise on my arms, every scream I smot

—- “You kill them and move on with me… or you reject me and leave.” The vision hits hard and fast like a punch to the chest. I’m in a forest, cold wind rattling through the trees, and Emma stands in the middle of it—pregnant. She’s visibly tense, hair slicked back like she’s trying to look composed, but her arms are shaking. Her mate, the new alpha of the neighbouring pack, paces in front of her like a predator. “I won’t have another man’s child threatening my legacy,” he growls, stepping closer. “You give birth to my pup and walk away. No strings. Or you kill them—both—and become my Luna.” Emma crosses her arms over her bump, her voice tight and trembling. “I’ll kill Matt,” she says, jaw clenching. “I will. But I won’t touch Sam. He’s just a kid. He already calls that woman ‘mum’ and he’s happy there. If I kill Matt, he won’t want to come looking for me. Fiona and Ben will raise him like their own. Just… let me leave him behind.” Th

I was desperate for alone time with Caden. Not that I didn’t love our new chaos crew of kids, siblings, and parents, but sometimes a girl needs to remember what it feels like to walk around with her mate without a sticky hand in hers or someone asking her what a mortgage is.So yeah, I was practically skipping out the door when he suggested we hit the shops before dinner tonight with my grandparents, Uncle Mark, and Elle. Private time, baby. Sanity time.We started with swimwear.Or, well… shorts. Caden refused to call it “swimwear” when it came to me because apparently the very concept of me in a bikini was a personal attack on his blood pressure.To be fair, I tried to behave. I picked up a few reasonable options—a sweet little one-piece with a floral print, a tasteful high-waisted two-piece, and a neon pink triangle bikini that made me blush just holding it.He took one look at the bikini and sputtered.“Are you out of your mind?! That’s not swimwear, that

Caden carried me like I weighed nothing, his arms strong and certain, his eyes never leaving mine. The hallway blurred. The house, the voices, the air—none of it mattered. It was just us now. Only us.He kicked the door shut behind us and set me down in the center of the room like I was precious, sacred. His hands framed my face, and for a moment, we didn’t move. Just breathed. Stared. Loved.“I can’t believe how much I feel,” I whispered.“I can’t believe I ever lived without it,” he said.Our mouths collided, not in hunger—but in awe. Reverent. His lips were soft and warm, but the moment his tongue brushed mine, that Ailm electricity flared. My knees buckled from the jolt of it, like I’d been struck by lightning and reborn from the inside out. We moaned into each other’s mouths, clinging like we might fall through the earth if we let go.The tattoo on my arm pulsed as if alive, and every time his skin grazed mine, it lit me up like wildfire. My fingers trembled

We lie tangled for what feels like hours, though I know it’s only minutes. My head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart—the sound that keeps my own from falling apart.Caden’s fingers trace gentle patterns up and down my spine, and each brush feels like a whisper from the universe reminding me you’re safe now. You’re together.“I think we should get up,” I whisper, though I don’t move.His arms tighten.“Why?” he murmurs into my hair. “We’re already where we’re supposed to be.”“I know,” I say, my voice barely audible. “But Mum’s going to come up soon if I don’t show my face.”He groans, the sound vibrating through me. “If she walks in, I’m locking the door and pretending I can’t hear her.”I laugh against his skin, but I know we have to. Eventually.Still, pulling away from him feels like peeling off a second skin.When I finally sit up, the ache hits me like a punch to the ribs. It’s not physical. Not really. But it’s de