Lahat ng Kabanata ng Crown of Betrayal: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The mirrored corridor swallowed the noise of the council chamber the moment the doors closed behind them.Gregory followed his father in silence, boots echoing against polished stone. Flickering torchlight rippled across the mirrors lining both walls—reflections stretching, warping, repeating him and the king in endless distorted variations. In some panes, Gregory’s eyes gleamed too bright. In others, Earic’s shadow drowned half the glass.He forced himself to keep looking ahead.Earic walked with the calm confidence of a man who believed the entire world existed merely to respond to his stride. “Your restraint today,” the king said lightly, “was impressive.”Gregory’s jaw tightened. “You mean my silence.”“I mean your

Saturday night lay heavy over Ancnix, quiet in a way that didn’t feel like rest but anticipation. Elora stood at her bedroom window, brushing the last remnants of the day from her hair as she watched magitech lanterns blink to life along the street below. The hum of the city was softer than usual — thin, muted, like sound pressed beneath glass.Shopping bags rested near her dresser, the dusk-red dress folded safely inside one of them. Kailee had all but screamed when Elora stepped out of the fitting room wearing it. Normally, Elora would still feel that excitement buzzing under her skin.Tonight, something else sat there instead.A pressure just beneath her ribs. A faint, cold thread brushing the back of her mind. The sense of a presence she couldn’t name.Her wolf paced in sharp, restless bursts beneath her skin — not with fear, but with warning. Its instincts prickled along her nerves, a physical sensation, like tiny sparks racing beneath her arms and spine. The message wasn’t w

The dream dissolved the moment her eyes opened, but the feeling of it clung to Elora like a lingering bruise.She hadn’t stayed long in the forest this time—only enough to notice what had changed. The trees were taller, their shadows stretched thin as if watching her. The moonlight didn’t reach the ground anymore. And the figure she’d sensed for nights now… he was closer. Not close enough to see clearly, but near enough that she felt his presence press against her skin like cold breath.No terror. Just pressure. A quiet claim.She woke with a sharp inhale, heart already racing, sheets tangled around her legs as if she’d spent the night fighting something unseen. Her limbs were heavy. Her thoughts foggy. Her wolf agitated.And her birthday was in five days.Whatever was happening in her dreams was getting bolder.She forced herself out of bed, dressed quickly, and splashed cold water on her face until the trembling stopped.It didn’t help.Her eyes still looked hollow around the ed

The fourth dream didn’t let go easily.Gregory jolted awake with his heart pounding and his sheets clinging damp to his skin. For a few seconds, he didn’t know where he was — only that his teeth ached from holding back a howl and his hands still curled as if they’d been clawing at something that wasn’t there.Her.Always her.Four nights now, the dream-forest had closed around him, silver and shadow and whispered chanting. Four nights of feeling her just ahead of him, running, breathing, trembling — of catching the scent of rain and jasmine and wolf, of reaching through the mist—And four nights of waking up alone.He stared at the carved canopy overhead and forced his breathing to slow. The Packhouse walls hummed with protective runes, the air cool and still, but none of it quieted the tether pulling under his sternum.Elora Jardine.He shouldn’t know it was her. The dream never showed her face clearly. But his soul knew. His wolf knew. Every beat of the bond the High Priestess had p

The Fenraen Great Ceremonial Hall rose like a monument carved from living moonlight. Silverstone pillars arched toward the high ceiling, curving into a vast crescent skylight that filtered daylight into soft, pale beams, turning the midday sun into something gentler—almost lunar. Beneath that shimmering glow, thousands had gathered. Families packed the seats, warriors in formal cloaks lined the outer aisles, and the hum of anticipation rippled through every breath of the hall.Elora stepped inside with Kailee and Zayden, her storm-gray cloak brushing the polished stone floor. The sheer volume of crowd noise should have overwhelmed her, but the moment her eyes found the dais at the front of the hall, everything else sharpened into a single, unbroken line.Gregory.He stood beside the Principal and the High Priestess, his House colors—shadow-gray and deep green—rich against the pale stone. His cloak hung perfectly, his shoulders square, sunlight catching the gold threaded into his hair.