Semua Bab THE BLOODBOUND CHRONICLES : Bab 1 - Bab 10

The forest was still burning. Not with fire, but with energy the kind that made Seraphina's skin crawl.She stumbled backward, her sword still raised, trying to make sense of what Kael had just said. That mark belongs to me.He stood there like the chaos around them didn't bother him. The crows had scattered, the wraiths were gone, but the air was still thick with leftover magic. His eyes glowed faint red, like dying embers that refused to go out."What did you mean by that?" Seraphina demanded.Kael didn't answer right away. He stepped closer, slowly, like he didn't want to scare her. "That mark on your wrist. It's the Bloodbound sigil. I thought it was lost centuries ago."Seraphina shook her head. "It's just a birthmark.""Birthmarks don't react to demon fire," he said evenly. "And they don't appear on witches who were never bound."She stared at the faint red symbol pulsing under her skin. It was still glowing from the fight. "Bound to what?"Kael's eyes met hers. "To me."For a m

The air in the Demon Realm was heavy not with smoke or fire, but with power.Every breath burned a little. Every heartbeat echoed faintly against the dark marble walls that lined the corridors of Blackspire Keep.Kael walked through them in silence. His boots left faint red traces on the floor, a side effect of the energy still clinging to him from the mortal world. He could've cloaked it, but he didn't bother. No one in the castle dared to question the heir to the throne.Still, the guards bowed low as he passed. Some didn't lift their heads until he was gone. Others stared too long, curious - rumors spread fast in this place, and his sudden return would already be causing whispers.He hadn't been gone long by demon standards three nights. But that was enough for suspicion.Kael reached the end of the corridor, where two armored sentinels stood before the iron doors of the throne hall. Both carried pikes crackling faintly with hellfire.One of them glanced up. "Your Highness. The Kin

Seraphina’s feet skidded on the smooth ice floor. She wanted to stop. She wanted to scream. Seeing her father standing there, his face cold and set like stone, felt worse than any demon’s blade.​"Father?" she whispered, the word lost in the roar of the wind rushing through the broken entrance.​He didn't answer. He didn't even look at her with the love she remembered. He simply pointed his finger toward the stairs where she stood. "Secure the girl," he commanded. His voice was hollow, stripped of the warmth that used to tuck her into bed and tell her stories of "imaginary" magic.​"Get back!" Kael roared.​He moved like a shadow given form. He met the first wave of hunters with a brutal force that shook the hallway. His blade was a streak of red light, clashing against the golden shields of the High Circle. He fought like a man possessed, his every move designed to keep the path to Seraphina blocked.​Seraphina turned and bolted up the stairs. Her heart was a drum in her ears. She re

The first thing Seraphina felt was the heat.​It wasn't the burning rage of the dagger or the freezing bite of the North. It was a thick, heavy warmth that smelled of expensive incense and sulfur.​She opened her eyes slowly. She wasn't on the cold floor of the Sanctum. She was lying on a bed larger than her entire bedroom at home, covered in sheets of dark crimson silk. The walls were made of polished black stone that shimmered like oil.​She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her wrist.​She looked down and gasped. The blue lines weren't just cracks anymore—they had settled into her skin like permanent tattoos, branching out from the mark on her wrist up to her elbow. They pulsed with a faint, ghostly light.​"I wouldn't move too fast if I were you," a smooth, playful voice said.​Seraphina jerked her head toward the corner of the room. A man sat in a high-backed chair, swirling a glass of dark liquid. He looked like Kael, but his eyes were a bright, mischievous amber, a

The sound of marching boots grew louder, a steady thump-thump-thump that felt like a death countdown. The red glow of the hallway torches flickered as the Demon King’s elite guard rounded the far corner, their black shields locked together.​"Decide quickly, brother," Arion said, his amber eyes darting toward the approaching army. "Stay and die for 'honor,' or follow me and live for spite."​Kael looked at Seraphina, then at the army. He was injured, and Seraphina was barely standing. Fighting a hundred elite guards in a narrow hallway was suicide.​"If you betray us, Arion," Kael growled, "I will spend my last breath ripping your heart out."​Arion gave a sharp, nervous grin. "Fair enough. Follow me."​He pressed a hidden stone on the wall behind a tapestry of a falling star. The wall groaned and slid open, revealing a dark, damp tunnel that smelled of old earth and ancient magic.​"The catacombs," Kael whispered, pulling Seraphina inside just as the first spear from the guards whist