Semua Bab Marked By The Tribrid King: Bab 1 - Bab 10

POV: Aria MonroeThe bruises weren’t the worst part.It was the silence.Silence had a shape. A weight. It pressed against Aria Monroe’s chest like a stone she couldn’t move. It filled the corners of her trailer, seeped into the walls, and wrapped around her throat every time she tried to speak. Darren didn’t yell anymore. He didn’t need to. His rage had evolved—refined into something colder, sharper, more efficient.She sat on the edge of the bathtub, the cracked porcelain cool against her thighs. The mirror above the sink was fractured in the top corner, a spiderweb of broken glass from the time Darren had slammed the medicine cabinet shut too hard. Aria dabbed concealer over the newest mark blooming across her cheekbone. It wasn’t purple yet—just a sickly yellow, fading from the last time.She hated the way she’d learned to measure pain in colors.In the next room, Luna slept curled around her stuffed wolf, its fur worn thin and one ear stitched back on with mismatched thread. Aria

POV: Aria MonroeThe forest was breathing.Aria lay curled around Luna beneath the ancient tree, her body aching, her thoughts scattered. The mist shimmered like moonlight, wrapping around them in a hush of magic. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, only that something had changed.Her skin tingled. Her breath felt heavier, like the air itself had thickened. The tree loomed above them, its bark etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. She sat up slowly, cradling Luna’s sleeping form, and looked around.The forest was quiet. Too quiet.No birds. No wind. Just the hum.She touched the bark again, and the pulse returned—stronger this time. A warmth spread through her chest, not painful, but intense. Her vision blurred, and the world tilted.Then the visions came.Not dreams. Not memories. Something deeper.She stood in a throne room carved from obsidian and starlight. Runes floated in the air like fireflies. At the center stood a man—tall, regal, cloa

POV: Kaelion DuskbaneThe scrolls didn’t lie.Kaelion stood in the lower chamber of Duskbane Keep, surrounded by ancient texts and relics that pulsed with residual magic. The air was thick with dust and memory. He traced a finger along the edge of a parchment older than most kingdoms, its ink faded but still potent.Aria Monroe.Her name wasn’t written, but her blood was.The Codex of Flamebound Queens spoke of a mortal line fractured by silence. A woman who bore the mark but never awakened. Her power had gone dormant, buried beneath generations of fear and forgetting. Until now.Kaelion exhaled slowly.She was the echo.The Grove had chosen her not because she was strong—but because she was unfinished.—He moved to the crystal basin in the center of the chamber. It shimmered with leyline energy, a mirror to the divine. He poured a vial of moonwater into the bowl and whispered her name.The surface rippled.Then it showed her.Aria, sitting in a glade, brushing Luna’s hair with slow,

POV: Aria MonroeThe forest was too quiet.Aria sat with her back against a tree, Luna nestled beside her, drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick. The morning light filtered through the canopy in soft beams, but the silence felt unnatural. No birdsong. No rustling leaves. Just the low hum she’d begun to associate with the tree—the one that had marked her.She glanced down at her wrist.The mark was still there, faint but unmistakable. Three interwoven symbols: one like flame, one like frost, one like a heartbeat. It hadn’t faded. If anything, it felt stronger. Her skin tingled constantly now, and her senses were sharper. She could hear the distant rush of a stream, smell the damp moss beneath her boots, feel the pulse of the earth beneath her spine.She didn’t know what it meant.But she knew it wasn’t normal.“Mommy,” Luna said suddenly, “do you think the trees can talk?”Aria blinked. “What do you mean?”Luna pointed to the symbols she’d drawn. “I heard them whisper last night. The

POV: Aria MonroeThe forest had grown colder.Not in temperature, but in mood. The trees no longer whispered. They watched. The mist no longer shimmered. It clung. Aria felt it in her bones—the shift. Something had changed. Something was coming.She sat beside Luna beneath a canopy of twisted branches, her back pressed against a moss-covered trunk. The mark on her wrist pulsed faintly, a rhythm she couldn’t ignore. Her senses were sharper now. She could hear the flutter of wings overhead, the distant crack of a twig, the heartbeat of the earth beneath her.Luna was quiet, drawing again in the dirt. Symbols. Runes. Shapes Aria didn’t recognize but felt in her blood.“Where did you learn those?” she asked softly.Luna didn’t look up. “They come to me.”Aria swallowed. “In dreams?”Luna nodded. “And sometimes when I’m awake.”Aria reached out and brushed a curl from her daughter’s cheek. “You’re not scared?”Luna looked up, her eyes wide and ancient. “No. He’s watching.”Aria’s breath ca