Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

The words echoed in my skull long after they left Veronica’s lips.A child.For years, I had thought it impossible. For years, I had believed the gods would never grant me such a gift — that no woman could bear the flame of my seed. And yet here she was, radiant and trembling, declaring herself blessed.And yet the taste of her words was bitter.Why now? Why, after all this time, after all those empty years, when fate had finally set my true mate before me? It felt less like a blessing and more like a curse, a cruel jest from the gods.I forced my voice steady. “We are finished, Veronica. There is only one woman for me — Sophie. If you are lying to hold onto your place…”Her face crumpled. She pressed her hand to her stomach and turned on the tears. “Lying? After all these years by your side? I have just come from the healers. Would you call me a liar to my face?”“Yes,” I said coldly. “You lied to Sophie about sharing my bed. We haven’t slept together in weeks.”Her eyes flashed. “We

Icicles dripped from the ceiling above. My wolf bristled at the sight. Sophie stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes ablaze with fury, the air around her crackling with cold. Below, Veronica lay in a heap: silks torn, blood seeping from a gash on her forehead. Her cries sliced the air, sharp and raw. “Fetch the healers!” I bellowed. “Now!” Guards scrambled. Maids shrieked. Ronan’s face had already hardened into a mask. The scent of fear and blood filled the hall. Veronica’s sobs echoed through stone and marble. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned to Sophie, my voice breaking before I could stop it. “Is it true? You pushed her?” Her jaw tightened. Frost bloomed along the bannister. “Is it true?” she demanded back, ice thick in her voice. “Veronica is pregnant?” I closed my eyes, just for a heartbeat. “I only just found out. I didn’t know.” The words felt like stones. “Why, Sophie? Why would you harm her, or the child?” “I didn’t push her!” Sophie snapped, her voice a

Ronan had left the King brooding in his chambers, pacing like a caged beast. Ronan felt the urge to flush out the vermin. He stalked down the corridor toward the healer’s wing. His gut didn’t lie.He pushed open the oak doors without knocking.Veronica lay propped against a mound of cushions. She looked fragile, too fragile. Pale wrists trembled where they rested on her belly, fingers twitching each time a healer dabbed her brow with a damp cloth. Her lips quivered with soft, practiced moans.Ronan didn’t trust a single one.He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, shadow filling the threshold like a threat. “Well?”Maera, didn’t flinch. “The child lives. No bleeding. The heartbeat is strong. She’s exhausted, frightened, but not harmed.”“Not harmed,” Ronan echoed under his breath, as if tasting the words and finding them bitter. He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “And Veronica?”“Her mind is unsettled,” Maera said carefully.“Keep her under watch. Day and nigh

The war room was stifling. The hunters’ faces look gaunter, harsher. Lucian stood at the head, his cane tapping in agitation, eyes fever-bright and wild. Fueled by a need to reclaim lost power and punish his enemies, his words spilled out, voice edged with desperation and a thirst for vengeance. “The grave lies in the swamps. The old witch told us where to dig. A queen of voodoo, buried with power, waiting for those brave enough to claim her. And claim her we must, if we are to bring the wolves to their knees.” Kofi’s jaw tightened around the cigar stub clenched in his teeth. He didn’t even bother to take it out when he answered. “I ain’t diggin’ up no dead queen.” His voice was flat, certain, rooted in a fear earned from hard experience. “I’ve seen what happens when men mess with the dead. Seen corpses walk. Seen eyes glow with nothin’ human behind ‘em. That’s why I keep away—some things should stay buried. You want to wake that? Not me. Not ever again.” Lucian’s face twisted,

I slept every night beside a monster. A man I needed to escape from — but didn’t yet know how. Lucian slept heavily, the sheet rising and falling with that slow, reptilian rhythm of his breath. He looked almost human in sleep. Almost. But I had learned the truth: the calmest moments were always the most dangerous. It was early. The kind of hour when the house felt half-dead and the shadows hadn’t decided which way to fall. I slipped from the bed, careful not to wake him, and padded toward the bathroom. Anything less than perfection could set him off. A wrong word. A wrinkle in a dress. A hair out of place. I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My skin had gone sallow; there were bruised crescents under my eyes. I used to be beautiful. Now I looked like one of the ghosts that stalked these halls. Living with Lucian did that — leached the color from everything. Nothing a little makeup couldn’t hide. Not the fear, but the evidence. I turned to look at my back. The lashes were sti