Semua Bab Blood Beneath the Cypress Knees: Bab 81 - Bab 90

The house was silent when night fell, the kind of silence that came after a long, hard fight.Rio was the first to stir, his golden eyes flickering open in the faint lamplight. He took a moment, listening—soft breathing in nearby rooms, the steady pulse of familiar heartbeats, and the subtle stirrings of the others waking.Junie was curled beside him, hair a tangle of copper and gold against the pillow, her hand resting lightly on his chest. He brushed a kiss across her hair before carefully sliding out of bed.In the adjoining room, Sophie was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a mischievous smile on her pale face as she examined a goblet of deep red blood.“Breakfast,” she announced, lifting it like a toast when Rio leaned in the doorway.“Better than a granola bar?” Rio teased.She wrinkled her nose. “Granola bars are gross. This is way cooler. And tastier.” She took a dramatic sip, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand like she was trying to look extra tough.Rio chuckled. “

The group moved cautiously, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the Hunter and the towering figure. Mud clung stubbornly to their boots, sucking at every step, while the fog thickened with each passing moment, curling around cypress knees like restless fingers. Every shadow seemed alive, every rustle of leaves or snap of a branch amplified their sense of vulnerability, as if the swamp itself conspired against them.“Keep moving,” Rio murmured, scanning the fog. “Don’t stop. Don’t look back.”Junie stayed close, her senses alive with the rhythm of the swamp. “I can help,” she whispered, brushing her hand across a nearby cypress root. Slowly, imperceptibly, the roots twisted and rose, weaving over their footprints, masking the path behind them. Water from the swamp swirled in subtle eddies around their ankles, soft currents that muffled their steps, while mud shifted to cover their tracks. She felt the pulse of the swamp in her veins: earth, water, trees, an

The swamp trembled as if it had a heartbeat of its own, the thick fog curling around cypress knees like restless fingers. The air was wet, heavy, and alive with danger. Every sound was amplified—the snap of a branch, the splash of water against twisted roots—and Rio’s senses were taut, nerves humming with alertness. The towering figure moved with terrifying precision, muscles coiled beneath dark clothing, eyes glowing an unearthly red that seemed to pierce the fog itself. At its side, the shapeshifter wearing Celine’s face lingered, cruel and mocking, movements fluid and predatory. Hunters crouched and advanced silently, sinewy forms blending into mist, claws and teeth poised for death.“Stay close,” Rio growled, glancing at Junie. “We need to stay low and quiet. Keep the swamp on our side.”Junie nodded, hand brushing over a root. Her fae magic stirred like a living pulse, coaxing the earth, the water, and the moss beneath their feet to shift subtly. Roots twisted to create fals

The gray dusk settled over the swamp, heavy clouds pressing down as if the earth itself were holding its breath. Moisture hung thick in the air, the scent of wet earth and moss stronger than usual, a warning that the swamp had shifted in response to unseen forces. Junie lay in the guest room holding Jade, pale but awake, the edges of her abdomen still tender from the previous battle. Rio leaned against the wall nearby, golden aura flickering faintly, energy coiled and restless.Adonis moved silently through the plantation, checking wards and defensive charms, brow furrowed. Unease rolled off him like a second skin. “Something’s coming,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “Not just the shapeshifter… the swamp is restless. Something primal. A storm. And it’s gathering.”Odessa returned from scouting, boots silent against the hardwood. She approached Rio, eyes scanning the distant treeline. “Adonis is right,” she said, voice low and certain. “The clouds are shifting unnatu

Night fell over the plantation, heavy and oppressive, the storm raging as if nature itself were furious. Rain pounded the roof, wind tore at the cypress trees, and the swamp churned beneath sheets of water and mud. The vampires had awakened to the roars of thunder, senses heightened, alert to every shift of shadow.Inside the main house, everyone moved with urgent precision. Junie’s green eyes flickered over the rooms, her energy stabilizing but fragile. Baby Jade, only a few months old, slept swaddled in layers of blankets, Willa’s fae energy humming softly around her.The witches returned from scouting, soaked and exhausted, but their news was urgent. Meryn, leading the group, stepped inside, shaking the rain from her cloak. “The shapeshifter… it drifted far from the plantation. We lost sight of it, but it’s heading somewhere with purpose,” she reported, eyes dark with worry. “It’s not alone.”Junie’s stomach twisted as her magic prickled. She rose slowly, sensing the storm’s raw en