His Rejected Mate's Secret のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

(Corin's POV)Smoke curled above the northern barracks like black fingers clawing at the sky. The scent of ash and char lingered in the air, stubborn and bitter, a reminder that Bloodstone was no longer the sanctuary it once had been. I walked the courtyard slowly, boots crunching over scattered debris, surveying the remnants of the fortress we had called home. Wolves moved in cautious patterns, their eyes sharp, their tails low, a mixture of fear and obedience. The Council’s shadow pressed down on every stone, every banner, every heartbeat.I reached the hall where the elders now held court, their silhouettes rigid against the torchlight. Varr’s voice carried across the stone floors, commanding, insinuating, the kind of words designed to split loyalty like a knife through ice. Taxes, oaths, forced obedience, the Council had laid its chains across Bloodstone, and wolves knelt beneath them, their eyes wary, their hearts questioning.I bit back the surge of anger that threatened to rise

(Afnan’s POV)Night pressed close, heavy and velveteen, as the valley gathered around the spring. Lanterns of woven willow hung from low branches, their flames tremoring like watchful eyes. The air tasted of wet earth and crushed herbs; it hummed with expectation, as if the land itself had paused to listen.Elder Maelis stood at the spring’s lip, her staff crowning the air with pale light. Around her, the villagers formed a ring, wolves, witches, healers, faces lifted, breath held. They had prepared for this night not as spectacle but as sacrament. The moon had turned once in the sky since Lyra’s death; now we returned the favor with a petition.I stepped into the circle with the twins at my chest. Their weight steadied me like an anchor. A current of something like prayer moved through the gathered crowd, threads of hush and chant woven together. Maelis’s voice rose, low and layered, a language older than packs and borders, and the spring responded with a silver ripple that traveled

(Corin’s POV)The corridors of Bloodstone stretched long and silent, lit by torches that sputtered against the cold stone walls. The air smelled of soot, sweat, and the faint tang of fear. Every step I took was deliberate, measured; my uniform hung like a borrowed skin, convincing the Council I was theirs again, though each heartbeat reminded me I belonged to no one but Delph.Reports had come in of patrols tightening around the fortress, of Bloodstone wolves being corralled under oath to the Council, of spies weaving webs of mistrust. I had to move carefully. One misstep and the Council would know not only that Delph lived, but that I was secretly orchestrating resistance within their very halls.The Council chamber loomed ahead, doors tall and oppressive. Inside, Varr and his inner circle had gathered, discussing taxes, troops, and punishments with a cold efficiency that made my skin crawl. I joined them, voice steady, keeping my posture formal, loyal, obedient. The wolves around th

(Shared POV: Delph / Afnan / Corin)The first light of dawn stretched across Bloodstone, catching the jagged towers in a pale gold. Smoke still lingered from the Council’s early scorched attempts, but it did nothing to dull the resolve that had gathered in the northern forests. Every wolf, human, and exile moved with purpose, the silent rhythm of preparation echoing through the valley.I led from the front, senses coiled, wolf form ready beneath human flesh. Every step, every glance, every quiet instruction carried weight. Behind me, Afnan’s presence radiated through the bond, twin pulses of life anchoring us, grounding us, reminding me what we fought for. Her power hummed under her skin, weaving through the air like silver threads, shaping the momentum of those around her.The valley’s warriors, the Moonfall exiles, loyal Bloodstone wolves, and newly returned scouts, lined up as one cohesive force. They had trained tirelessly, guided by every lesson Delph and I had imparted, forming

(Afnan’s POV)The wind carried the scent of smoke before the screams reached us.It was faint at first, just a trembling whisper of what raged beyond the hills, but it was enough. The wolves in the healing tents lifted their heads, ears twitching, their eyes turning to me for silent assurance. I gave none. I couldn’t.The morning had begun in eerie stillness. Canvas tents fluttered like pale ghosts under the cold wind. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood and rain, and every footstep sank into the wet soil, dark as sorrow.I moved between rows of makeshift beds, the hem of my dress dragging through mud and ash. Dozens of wolves lay there, soldiers, scouts, even young ones, each bearing wounds that shimmered faintly silver beneath their bandages. Silver burns, the cruel mark of the Council’s weapons.A young warrior clutched my wrist as I passed. His voice cracked like dry leaves.“Luna… the silver, it won’t heal.”I met his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”I dipped my finger