Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Princess's Second Life : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The clang of wood against wood echoed through the training yard, sharp and unforgiving. Kael’s breath came in ragged bursts as he swung his practice blade, only to be knocked flat once again. “Pathetic,” Darius said flatly, looming above him. “If you hesitate, you die. If you grip wrong, you die. If you let your enemy read your eyes—” He jabbed the dull blade against Kael’s chest, forcing him back down. “You die.” Kael spat blood and dragged himself up, teeth clenched. “Then I’ll die a hundred times in here, but not out there.” Something in his tone—unyielding, burning—pulled at Darius’s resolve. He tossed him the blade again. “On your feet. Again.” Strike. Block. Fall. Rise. Over and over, until Kael’s arms trembled, his knuckles raw, his shirt soaked through with sweat. Still, he staggered upright each time, refusing to yield. By the time Darius finally called halt, a reluctant respect glinted in his eyes. “You’ve got more spine than I thought, pup. Maybe you won’t waste my ti

The summons from her father arrived before dawn. A page slipped into her chambers, bowing low as he delivered the message: the Alpha requires your presence in the council chamber.Elara had known it was coming. Since the envoy’s arrival, since whispers of alliance wrapped her name in threads of power and politics, she had felt the weight of expectation closing in. Still, her stomach twisted as she dressed, fastening a gown of pale silver that shimmered like moonlight.The corridors hummed with movement. Servants polished brass sconces, laid garlands across doors, and hurried to prepare the halls for that night’s feast. The air carried the scent of roasted meats, honey glaze, and spiced wine long before the tables were set. Every brush of sound or smell reminded Elara: this was more than a dinner. It was theater.The council chamber stood heavy with shadow when she entered. Tall-backed chairs lined the table, though only her father, Alpha Arden, sat waiting. His dark eyes lifted to her

The feast stretched long into the night, laughter and wine flowing as though the court had no reason to fear tomorrow. Elara had smiled until her cheeks ached, danced until her toes burned, endured questions until her head throbbed. By the time the third round of music struck, she excused herself, slipping through a side archway into the cool corridor beyond. The silence there was a balm, shadows deep and still. She leaned against the stone, pressing a hand to her chest as though she could cage the wild beating of her heart. Her wolf was restless, clawing and pacing inside her. Every glance at Kieran had set her teeth on edge. Every glance at Darius had nearly unraveled her entirely. “Breathe,” she whispered to herself. “Just breathe.” But the scent reached her before the voice. “You shouldn’t linger alone.” Her head snapped up. Darius stepped from the shadows, broad shoulders filling the narrow hall, golden eyes sharp in the dim torchlight. For a moment, neither of them spoke

The torches of the palace burned late that night, but Elara found little comfort in their glow. Every flicker of flame seemed to replay the scene in the dungeon: Darius’s hand snapping bone, his voice calm as he broke a man apart piece by piece.She pressed her palms to her temples as she paced her chamber, but the memory clung like smoke. She should have recoiled. She should have turned her back. Yet when she closed her eyes, her wolf stirred, not with terror—but with recognition.He had been merciless. Unforgiving. Dangerous.And still her soul reached for him.The contradiction tore at her until she could no longer stay confined. She looked at him there, as she had before, standing on the ramparts. His hair stirred in the night wind, his shoulders rigid. He did not turn even when he was talking to her but his voice carried, rough and low.“You should be asleep.”“So should you,” she replied, steadying her voice.A long silence stretched between them. The stars burned cold overhead

The palace had settled into a deceptive quiet after Kael’s punishing session in the training yard. Elara had sat with her brother until he finally dozed, bandaged and sore, muttering half-hearted curses about Darius beneath his breath. The air in his chamber was thick with the smell of herbs and poultices, and though exhaustion pulled at her, Elara’s mind refused to rest.That note.She hadn’t forgotten it—the rough parchment slipped beneath her door nights ago, ink smudged as though written in haste.Every time she closed her eyes, the words burned against her lids. The attack on Kael, the schemes in the council, the whispering nobles—all of it tied together like tangled thread. She needed answers.So when the moon climbed high and most of the household had gone to sleep, Elara rose from her chair beside Kael and slipped into the corridor. The stone floor was cool beneath her slippers, the torches guttering low as shadows stretched along the walls. She pulled her cloak tighter and mo