All Chapters of BARBARIAN: Court Of Thorns And Roses.: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The darkness did not feel empty this time.It felt crowded.Warm hands, distant voices, Adrian’s scream echoing from somewhere far away, the wolf pacing inside his ribs, the echo of Alvar’s breath against his skin—it all clung to him like shadows that refused to separate.Caierre drifted through it, weightless and drowning at the same time.He didn’t know how long he stayed there before something tugged him upward again—quiet at first, then firmer, like fingers hooking into the fabric of him and pulling.He gasped.Air rushed into his lungs like icy water.His eyes snapped open, just barely, and the first thing he saw was… the ceiling.A terrible ceiling. A boring ceiling. Uneven wood beams that looked like they had too much of a story and not enough sanding.He blinked.Devil Caierre appeared, pointing at the beams.‘If you die again, make sure it’s with a better view. Like a chandelier. Something dramatic.’Angel Caierre threw sparkles at him.‘HE IS ALIVE. STOP BULLYING HIM.’Caier

The council’s footsteps echoed through the hallway like war drums. Each step reverberated in Caierre’s chest, a reminder that the world outside the room didn’t care about the tenuous bubble of safety he had just found with Alvar.The door opened before anyone knocked this time. Esmeralda swept inside, her skirts fanning out with every measured step, the council trailing behind her like obedient shadows. The moment the door closed behind them, the temperature seemed to drop—not from cold, but from tension, from threat, from Alvar’s presence radiating like molten steel.“Alpha Silvermark,” Esmeralda began, voice smooth but razor-edged. “You have sheltered him long enough. The boy cannot remain here. The council demands you release him immediately.”Alvar did not answer. He didn’t even blink. His wolf prowled beneath the surface of his skin, coiled and ready, muscles taut and ears alert. Every inch of him radiated authority, a predator’s warning that ran straight through the floorboards

The citadel had changed. Or maybe it hadn’t, and Caierre was just noticing the shadows differently. Every corridor, every whisper, every glance felt heavier now, like the world outside his room had shifted on some unseen axis. He could feel it in the air: the council was plotting, Esmeralda was scheming, and somewhere beneath it all, the wolves—his and Alvar’s—were coiling, waiting.He sat at the edge of the bed, hands clasped together, feeling the tremor of adrenaline that hadn’t left him since the confrontation yesterday. Alvar was beside him, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp, ever-watchful. The calm before the next storm.“They’re moving,” Alvar said quietly, voice low, a growl barely restrained. He didn’t need to elaborate. Caierre could feel it: the tension vibrating in the hallways, the subtle hum of preparation that meant danger was coming.“How do you know?” Caierre asked softly, trying not to betray the trembling in his hands.Alvar’s silver gaze met his, an

Esmeralda paced around her chambers, her heart pounding so fast she could hear it echo in her ears. Her steps were loud and angry, hitting the floor like she wanted to break it open. Everything she planned had gone wrong and she couldn’t understand how it happened or why the spell failed so fast. The room felt too small for her anger and her chest felt tight like the walls were closing in. She kept replaying the scene again and again, the old man dropping dead, Caierre collapsing, Alvar rushing to him instead of demanding answers from her. It made her feel sick, like something was crawling under her skin. She grabbed the edge of her vanity table and squeezed it tight. She could almost hear the wood crack from how hard she held it. She hated this feeling, this helplessness, this humiliation. She had planned everything perfectly for the past two days, every detail, every lie, every move. Caierre should have been dragged out of the room as a murderer. He should have been throw

Esmeralda paced around her chambers, her heart pounding so fast she could hear it echo in her ears. Her steps were loud and angry, hitting the floor like she wanted to break it open. Everything she planned had gone wrong and she couldn’t understand how it happened or why the spell failed so fast. The room felt too small for her anger and her chest felt tight like the walls were closing in. She kept replaying the scene again and again, the old man dropping dead, Caierre collapsing, Alvar rushing to him instead of demanding answers from her. It made her feel sick, like something was crawling under her skin. She grabbed the edge of her vanity table and squeezed it tight. She could almost hear the wood crack from how hard she held it. She hated this feeling, this helplessness, this humiliation. She had planned everything perfectly for the past two days, every detail, every lie, every move. Caierre should have been dragged out of the room as a murderer. He should have been