All Chapters of Marked and forsaken : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

❄️We strike the West like a storm. Their gates rise high, ancient, proud. Today they fall. The first clash is thunder — claws, fangs, iron, bone. No formation holds. No defense lasts. We move like one heartbeat, one hunger. Sentries drop. Walls crack. The hum of battle turns wild and holy. Room to room, hall to hall — we clear the castle. No mercy. No retreat. Only the sound of breath and breaking stone. I drive forward. Every strike a memory, every kill a name. My mother’s face burns behind my eyes. The rest is noise. The queen’s chamber — empty. The chief’s hall — empty. Only blood, smoke, and silence waiting. They fled. Left their warriors to die in their place. So be it. I move through the ruin — fast, silent, unrelenting. Those who mocked me, those who shamed me — I see them now. Their eyes remember. Mine do not forgive. Every blow is the answer they taught me to give. Every fall, a piece of judgment done. This is not just vengeance. This is balance. And ar

❄️Come here!” Nyvrae’s hand closes around my neck—the same grip, the same command, as when she dragged me from Mother’s side. I see it now. This can only get worse. My wolf stirs beneath my torn skin, barely keeping me half-conscious. She drags me through the night until we reach the center of the clearing. The full moon glares down—silent, merciless witness. She forces me upright as though my body still obeys her, as though there’s a single bone left unbroken. I crumble to the ground. Her hiss cuts the air. My pain only fuels her anger. “Don’t make this harder than it seems,” she snaps, and strikes me. The blow rattles what’s left of me. I force myself to sit—not on my flesh, but on what remains of my soul. Nyvrae lowers herself, sitting as if on air. Her eyes narrow, voice calm, dreadful in its control. “So tell me, Sereyna— Why did you let Varyn take advantage of you?” My eyes jolt open. Surely I heard wrong. But she continues, relentless: “Why did you b

“🥀I’ll send someone to stay with you,” Nyvrae says, rising to her feet. “Where are you going?” I ask, weakly. She hesitates, then sits back down. Her mouth moves as though the words are a fine thread she struggles to untangle. “You see… I have something to finish up with the tribe.” “Tribe again?” I narrow my eyes. “What did they say this time?” “No—no, this isn’t about you,” she stutters. “I just have some bones to pick with them.” That chills me more than it should. “Are you sure it’s the right time?” I ask quietly. “Yes,” she answers after a long hum. “I think it’s exactly the right time. I’ll be back soon.” And then she’s gone. My mind, barely steady, turns inward again—to my condition, to the growing dread in my bones. Why did the moon vanish before my trial ended? Was it mercy? Or was it rejection? If it disappeared knowing I can’t heal without it, then maybe the goddess herself has forsaken me. Maybe my sins truly are abominable. It’s the cruele

Dolynara returns with two lamps. Moren rises as if the darkness chases her, but Dolynara sets the lamp down and whispers, “There’s light now.” Nyvrae’s voice cuts through. “Why are you leaving?” “Father should have stopped searching by now,” Moren answers, backing away. “I’ll go inside.” “Wait,” I say. “Let’s wait a while longer with Serenya before we go in together.” “Together?” Moren snaps. “The moon is not coming — let’s finish this. Sitting here is driving me mad.” Necks go rigid. No one meets another’s eyes. The air tightens. Moren’s voice drops, colder than before. “Let’s just give up on one sister.” Her words slice. I take no offense outwardly, but the cut is there. She keeps going: “We’ll live as we always did—pretend the other didn’t exist.” Then her voice breaks in a way none of us expected. “Only this time — she won’t exist anymore.” Her tone falters. Could she be crying? The lamplight makes the tears on her face glitter like frost. “Moren?” someone echo

💦💔Eira’s whisper barely fades before I lift my face to the elder again. Her eyes are steady — too steady. “It’s true,” she says. “I came here for two reasons. One was for you.” Her gaze sweeps over the tribe, heavy as dawn. “And the second… you heard right. As we gather here, enemies move fast around our boundaries.” My heart drops. Not now. Not when, for once, peace felt close enough to touch. I can’t search their faces — I’m afraid of what I’ll see. Fear. Blame. Anger. But the elder’s voice cuts through the stillness like a blade through smoke. “Now let’s go,” she commands. “We have a battlefield to prepare for.” As she and the other women turn, the tribe ripples — not with panic, but purpose. I turn slowly, expecting tears and rage… But what greets me steals my breath. They cheer. They cheer for me. For us. And for the first time, I know the forgiveness is real. Nyvrae steps forward, her tone half-laugh, half-command. “Then let’s continue our wine and dine unde