QUEEN OF THE RUINS: Born to Power. Crowned in blood のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

ELIJAHThe searing heat from Jace’s leg hadn’t even cooled before my mind began to fracture. The smell of the acid was like a time machine. It didn’t just burn my nostrils; it burned through the years, tearing me out of this basement and dropping me straight into the dirt.I closed my eyes, but I didn't see the dark. I saw fire.17 years ago.When I finally opened my eyes, the world was a battleground. Everything was orange and grey. Small fires licked at the edges of the farmhouse we had been staying in, and smoke was thick enough to taste. I looked around, desperate, but nobody was to be found."Jace!" I screamed, my twelve-year-old voice breaking. "Jace! Where are you?"I scrambled through the debris, my hands scraping against the scorched earth. The only sound was the roar of the fire and the distant, cold pops of more gunshots. Panic clawed at my throat. The last thing I remembered was my parents coming here to negotiate. My father had been working for a strange man most of his

KAMARAI sat down at my vanity and slowly unfolded the paper Oscar had given me. My fingers were trembling, but my mind was clearer than it had been in years. The address was a location in the old warehouse district, Sector 4. It was a place where the city’s elite never ventured.If I stayed here, I was a victim. And I was letting my father win.I looked at the clock. 1:00 AM. Silas would be stationed at the end of the hall, and the perimeter guards would be doing their rounds. I wasn't an operative like Jace, and I wasn't a ghost like Oscar, but I had grown up in this cage. I knew every corner like my own palm.I moved to my closet and stripped off the blue silk dress. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans, a black hoodie, and the most sensible boots I owned. I tucked the paper into my waistband and grabbed a small flashlight I’d swiped from the kitchen weeks ago, and a photograph of my mother I kept hidden under my mattress.I walked to the balcony. The drop was nearly twenty feet, but a

KAMARAThe silence in the room was thick enough to choke on. Julian scrambled out of the bed with a frantic, desperate energy I had never seen from him. Gone was the polished, bored heir I had met. In his place was a man fumbling with his belt, his face a mask of pure terror. Behind him, the other man with dark curls and wide, startled eyes, dived for a discarded shirt, trying to shield himself."What the hell are you doing here, Kamara?" Julian choked out. His fingers were shaking so violently he could barely catch the prong of his belt buckle. "How did you—who told you—"I didn't answer. I couldn't. My brain was still trying to reconcile the cold, dismissive man who had sat across from me at the vineyard with the trembling person currently tripping over his own trousers. I turned my back, staring at the peeling, floral wallpaper of the motel room to give them a fleeting second of dignity they hadn't earned."Buckle up, Julian," I said, my voice sounding steadier than I felt. "We’re

KAMARAThe push leather interior of Julian’s luxury sedan felt like a pressurized chamber. Outside, the neon lights of Sector 9 blurred into streaks of sickly pink and blue as he tore away from the motel, his knuckles white as bone against the steering wheel."Can you even hear what you’re saying?" Julian shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of the night's revelations. "You want me, my men, to infiltrate Matthias ?"Precisely," I corrected, my voice cold, my eyes fixed on the dark road ahead."Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea who Matthias is? What he does to people who breathe in his direction without permission?" He glanced at me, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and disbelief. "This isn't a game, Kamara. This isn't some rebellious tantrum against your father. This is suicide.""You don't need to know the 'why,' Julian. I just need a 'yes.' I don't need the lectures, I don't need the panic, and I definitely don't need your 'crap.' I need a yes or no answer so

The world came back to Jace in a violent, hacking cough. His lungs felt like they were coated in heavy soot, and a bitter, chemical aftertaste burned the back of his throat. "Careful, Jace," a voice drifted through the shadows, smooth and cold. "The sedative can be a bit... ungraceful on the way out." Jace forced his eyes open, blinking against the harsh yellow strobe of a dying overhead light. He was in a warehouse not far from Matthias’s home. He could smell the stagnant river water and diesel fuel. Beside him, Elijah was still slumped, his breathing shallow and hitched. Matthias stood a few feet away, leaning against a scarred metal desk, swirling a glass of scotch. "You bastard," Jace chuckled, the sound turning into a dry rasp. "You are insane. What makes you think this plan of yours isn't going to flop? You think Oscar is coming for us? He doesn't care whether we live or die. He’s in this for his own selfish goals. He’s spent fifteen years in the dirt—you think he’s going to