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บททั้งหมดของ Blood ,Fire and Frost: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

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Chapter One – The Cathedral

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Chapter Two – The Wolf’s Shadow

The forest at night was not silent. It breathed, it shifted, it whispered with the scurry of small paws and the rustle of wings overhead. The marshes glimmered faintly where the moonlight touched the water, and the air carried the scent of pine sap, damp earth, and something faintly metallic beneath it all. Shadows stretched long and strange, twisting with the sway of trees, and every rustle set Selene’s nerves on edge.Selene walked alone, her cloak brushing dew-heavy grasses. Her mind was still tangled with the cathedral—the press of Lucien’s presence, the chill that had spread from him like frost across her skin, the way her own body had betrayed her with its trembling response. She could still feel the lingering heat of his gaze, silver eyes burning into her soul, cutting her open with a glance that both terrified and ignited her.Even now, she swore she could feel him, a ghost at her shoulder. The hair on her arms prickled, a low warning that m
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Chapter Three – The Dance of Shadows

The council hall was carved deep beneath the forest, a cavern of stone and roots older than any living witch. Torches sputtered along the walls, casting gold and shadow in uneven waves. The air smelled of sage, smoke, and earth—an ancient perfume of judgment.Selene stood at the center table, palms pressed against the cool stone as she struggled to steady her breathing. She hadn’t wanted to come here. She hadn’t wanted to stand beneath the eyes of every elder witch, each one heavy with suspicion. But duty had forced her steps down this winding path.She was here because something was wrong with the magic of the forest, and she’d been the first to sense it.At first, the signs were subtle—withered leaves where life should have bloomed, whispers in the wind that weren’t shaped by nature, shadows moving against the moonlight in patterns only witches would recognize. But then the visions began. Flickers of silver eyes. Clawed hands. Blood on stone. And a
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Chapter Four – Whispers at the Edge

The council’s warning clung to Selene long after she left the earthen hall, echoing in her mind like a curse. End it before it roots deeper. But it was already rooted—coiled through her veins like a living thing. She felt it with every heartbeat, every breath that caught too sharply in her chest. Rowan’s heat. Lucien’s cold. The storm humming between them. When the pressure became unbearable, she fled into the marshes at dusk. The marsh was a world of its own—vast, living, ancient. Wind skimmed across dark pools, disturbing sheets of green algae that glowed faintly in the rising moonlight. Tall reeds bowed in slow, rhythmic waves. Fireflies flared in drifting clusters, pale green sparks that hovered just above the water’s surface. The ground sucked softly at Selene’s boots, each step releasing scents of peat, wet bark, and old secrets buried in the mud. The fog rol
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Chapter Five – After the Storm

The marsh lay in ruins around them. Reeds slashed and broken. Mud churned by claws and boots. Pools of black water still pulsing faintly where Selene’s sigils had flared. And beneath it all, a silence so deep it felt like the creature had stolen the sounds from the world itself. No crickets. No owls. Not even wind. Just the harsh hiss of their breathing and the sour reek of black blood slowly melting into the earth. Selene lowered her dagger at last. Her hand trembled, her knuckles pale around the hilt. It wasn’t fear—not anymore. It was the aftershock of power, the raw charge left behind from fighting beside Rowan and Lucien. Their magic had meshed with hers in a way that didn’t feel possible… and yet had felt terrifyingly right. Rowan shifted first, claws retracting slowly, reluctantly. His chest rose and fell in jagged heaves, sweat streaking across his skin. His amber eyes glowe
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Chapter Six – The Stranger in the Woods

The marsh stank of blood and rot. Selene wiped her blade against the reeds, but the black ichor clung stubbornly to the steel, refusing to release its hold. It wasn’t natural blood—it felt wrong, cold even through the metal. Her stomach twisted, not with fear but with a grim understanding. Whatever had come for them tonight had spoken truth. Marked. Bound. Forbidden. Her hands shook. She hid them quickly in the folds of her cloak. Rowan paced the clearing like a caged storm. His claws still half-formed, retracting and flexing with every pass. His amber eyes glowed too bright, the beast coiled just beneath the surface, restless and violent. Sweat slid down his ribs, steam rising from his heated skin. Lucien, in contrast, stood still as carved mar
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 Chapter Seven – Quiet Embers

The marsh was restless long after the creature vanished. Ripples shivered across still water, reeds bent without wind, and the fog clung to the earth like heavy wool. Selene’s pulse beat hard against her ribs, her magic trembling at the edges of her senses. Whatever hunted them had withdrawn, but its shadow lingered. Rowan’s claws had finally retreated, though his chest still rose and fell in quick, punishing breaths. Sweat clung to his skin, highlighting the thick muscles in his arms, the scars across his chest. He looked like he could run a mile or tear a tree apart—anything to keep the beast in him from breaking loose again. Lucien, by contrast, stood utterly still, leaning against a crooked willow. If not for the faint smear of black blood drying on his sleeve, one might have believed he had never lifted a hand in the fight. His silver eyes, however, glimmered sharp and restless—calculating, assessing, anticipating. It
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Chapter Eight – The Storm Breaks

The fire burned low, embers glowing like the watchful eyes of some ancient guardian spirit. Shadows stretched long across the cottage walls, weaving slowly with each flicker of flame as if alive. The cottage felt smaller tonight—too warm, too close, too charged.Selene sat motionless in her chair, but her heart refused to calm. It thudded loud enough she was certain the men beside her could hear it. Rowan’s hand rested warm and grounding against her knee. Lucien’s cool fingers curled delicately around hers.Two opposites.Two forces.And she was the center they pulled toward.For several breaths none of them spoke. The silence grew thick, heavy, dense with unspoken things.It was Rowan who finally broke it. His voice was rough, low.“We can’t pretend anymore. Not after what happened out there.”Lucien’s lips twitched into a faint, knowing smile. Not mocking—gentler than she expected. “For once, wolf… you’re right.
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Chapter Nine – Ash and Embers

Dawn crept soft across the marsh, spilling through Selene’s window in pale ribbons of light. It caught the lingering mist outside, turning it gold around the edges. Inside the cottage, the fire had burned down to ash, glowing faintly, casting the room in a warm, sleepy hush. Shadows stretched long across the floorboards, gentle and harmless now, no trace of the storm that had torn through them only hours before. Selene stirred first. Her body ached—not with pain, but with memory. A deep, living echo of everything that had happened… everything she had allowed to happen. Her limbs felt heavy, languid, as though the night had pulled the strength from her bones only to replace it with a slow, thrumming heat. Her skin still hummed where Rowan’s hands had held her firmly, where Lucien’s cool mouth had pressed reverent promises into her pulse, where both of them had touched her at once until she came undone in their ar
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Chapter Ten – The Forbidden Flame

The storm outside had finally quieted, but inside Selene’s cottage, the air felt thick—charged, as though magic still clung to the rafters like smoke. The marsh beyond the windows was a world of shifting silhouettes and muted sounds, the mist rolling close to the cabin walls as if listening. Dawn was still a long way off, but the night had changed shape around them; something ancient and shivering had settled in the earth. The hearth fire burned low, a smoldering bed of embers casting a copper glow over the tangled blankets. Herbs hung from the beams overhead—drying lavender, swamp nettle, moonroot—each one stirring faintly in a draft that didn’t exist. The scent of night-blooming flowers mixed with sweat and magic, wrapping the room in a hush that felt sacred… or dangerous. Selene lay between Rowan and Lucien, her breathing shallow, her pulse still echoing the storm they had summoned together. Her body trembled with aftersh
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