All Chapters of Bloodbound: The legacy of Serelai : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

The world froze.Rain dripped from the broken stones. The Acquirers, their hands inches from Kael, halted mid-motion, looking to Theron for instruction. Theron had turned, his polished composure finally cracked, his eyes wide with shock and fury at the interruption.Ashiel stood rigid, the built-up power inside him sparking and fizzling in confused waves. He stared at his brother as if seeing a ghost, the ancient betrayal warring with the shocking reality of his presence.“You,” Ashiel breathed, the word a blade of pure hatred.The man, Kael, offered a thin, tired smile. “Me.” He stepped forward, ignoring the armed Acquirers as if they were harmless statues. His eyes swept over the family, over Liora’s protective stance, over Ronan’s raised axe, over Elara’s terrified grip on her knife, over Lyra clinging to her brother, over the now twelve-year-old Kael, who was panting with pain and exertion.His gaze lingered on the child who bore his name, and for a fleeting second, something unre

The decision hung over Liora for two days as they travelled. The man Kael’s words were a seed, and it was taking root in the dark, fertile soil of her fear and her love.Become the power. Build a fortress.She watched her family. Ashiel, who now had to concentrate to remember the name of the stream they were following. Kael, whose new, lanky twelve-year-old frame seemed to ache with a weariness that had nothing to do with walking. Lyra, who had started chewing on her fingernails again, a habit she’d broken years ago.They were fraying. The constant flight was a slow acid, eating away at them.The man Kael, for his part, was a model of… not goodness, but usefulness. He found them a deserted farmstead to shelter in, its owners likely fled during the chaos. He knew how to jimmy a lock and find a hidden root cellar with a cache of last season’s potatoes and apples, wrinkled but edible. It was the first full meal they’d had in days.As they ate around a small fire in the farmhouse’s dusty

The first week in the citadel was a strange, hollow time. They were safe. The great stone door, when Kael sealed it, became indistinguishable from the mountain face. The wind couldn't touch them. No sound from the outside world penetrated the living rock. They had food from their packs, and the spring provided fresh, cold water.It was a perfect, silent tomb.The initial relief of safety quickly gave way to a new kind of tension. The silence was a physical presence, pressing in on their ears. Their own breathing, their own heartbeats, became thunderously loud.Lyra suffered the most. She would wander the smooth, featureless halls, her shoulders hunched. She tried to sing, but her voice, once able to fill a forest, now died in the vast, absorbent space of the main hall. The notes fell to the floor like dead birds. She gave up, spending hours sitting by the spring, tracing patterns in the water with her finger, her face a mask of quiet misery.Ashiel’s memory, instead of stabilising, be

The silence in the citadel was different now. It wasn't the empty silence of stone, but the heavy, waiting silence of a held breath. Lyra’s songs were softer, as I, too, could feel the weight of the decision hanging over her mother. The moss-lights pulsed slowly, like a worried heartbeat.Liora spent two days in agony. She walked the glowing halls, her mind a battleground. Every time she looked at Ashiel, his vacant eyes, his struggle to place her face, her resolve hardened. She would do it. She would give up the memory.But then she would remember.She would remember the smell of rain on the dusty ground of the Temple of Ashen Glass. The feel of the crystal dagger in her hand, so light and yet so heavy with fate. The way Ashiel’s blood, a single drop of divine life, had welled up on his palm. The sound of his voice, so young and yet so ancient, as he swore the words that would bind him to her for eternity.“By blood and soul, by life and death. I bind myself to you, Serelai, Goddess

The days began to blend into one another, each one a little quieter than the last. It was like a slow, gentle snowfall inside the mountain, muffling sounds and softening edges. Life went on, but it was a life lived in a different key.Liora fell into a new routine. She would wake, check on Lyra, practice the Balance with Kael, and walk the halls of the citadel. She was like the heart of the mountain, steady, reliable, keeping everything alive. But a heart, she thought, doesn't need to feel joy to pump blood. It just does its job.Ashiel tried. He tried so hard it was a physical ache to watch. He would bring her a cup of tea exactly how she used to like it, with a drop of honey from a hive they had found long ago. He would point out a particularly beautiful patch of glowing moss. "Do you remember when Lyra made this one sing?" he'd ask, hope trembling in his voice.Liora would look at the moss. She would know, factually, that yes, Lyra had done that. It was a stored piece of informatio