All Chapters of Blood ,Fire and Frost: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The first person to kneel did not mean to.Selene felt it the moment it happened—a subtle shift in the air, a hitch in the rhythm of the world around her, like a held breath finally released. She had been standing just beyond the sanctuary’s threshold, the forest still unnaturally quiet, when Rowan stiffened beside her.“Selene,” he said under his breath.She turned.At the edge of the treeline stood a man she did not recognize—cloaked, travel-worn, eyes wide with something that wasn’t fear so much as awe twisted into instinct. He looked as though he’d been walking with purpose, only to forget it the instant he saw her.His knees hit the earth hard.The sound echoed.Selene’s stomach dropped. “I didn’t—”“I know,” Rowan said quickly, moving closer without touching her. “You didn’t call him.”Lucien appeared a heartbeat later, his presence sharpening the moment. His silver eyes flicked from the kneeling man to Selene, then narrowed.“He’s

The challenge did not come as an ambush.That alone told Selene it mattered.They had returned to the edge of the clearing when the pressure shifted—subtle, deliberate, like a hand raised not to strike but to be seen. Lucien felt it first, shadows tightening in alert recognition. Rowan felt it a breath later, instincts flaring without tipping into aggression.Selene felt it last.Not because she was slower—but because whatever approached was careful not to push against her awareness too hard.“Someone wants witnesses,” Rowan muttered.Lucien’s gaze fixed on the treeline. “And rules.”The forest parted.A man stepped forward alone, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence heavy with old magic and older confidence. His hair was bound at the nape of his neck, streaked with silver not from age but from power earned the hard way. He wore no armor, carried no visible weapon.But Selene could feel the weight of him.Alpha.Champion.Chose

The strike did not come from the forest.That was the mistake Selene almost made.She felt the disturbance as a tightening in the bond—sharp, sudden, directional. Not hunger. Not curiosity.Intent.“Down,” Rowan snarled.He moved before the word fully left his mouth, slamming into Selene and carrying her sideways just as the ground where she had been standing collapsed inward. Stone screamed as it folded in on itself, a jagged rift tearing open with violent precision.Lucien’s shadows exploded outward, snapping into place around them as the sanctuary’s wards flared gold and silver in frantic response.That was not a probe.That was an incision.“They mapped us,” Lucien said sharply. “That strike bypassed the outer layers.”Selene pushed herself upright, heart hammering—not with fear, but with fury edged in clarity. “They waited until I accepted responsibility.”“Yes,” Lucien replied grimly. “Now they mean to punish it.”The rift w

The world did not gather all at once.It came in layers.The marsh was the first to answer.Mist curled low across the water, pale and luminous in the early dawn, drifting through reeds that no longer whispered of death but of memory—of blood once spilled, of balance once broken and slowly mended. The air carried the scent of wet earth and green life pushing stubbornly upward through scarred ground.Selene stood at the center of the stone ring where everything had begun.The scars remained.They always would.But now, new growth threaded through the cracks—small, deliberate signs of endurance rather than erasure. The marsh had not forgotten the night it went silent.It had remembered it differently.Rowan stood to her left, dressed simply, a quiet strength in his posture that had nothing to do with dominance and everything to do with presence. His gaze swept the treeline with calm vigilance, wolf-instinct alert but unstrained. He wore no weap

Selene woke before dawn with the taste of metal on her tongue.Not blood—power. It lingered sharp and electric at the back of her throat, the residue of magic held too tightly for too long. She lay still beneath the heavy furs, staring at the faint line of gray light creeping across the stone ceiling, listening to the citadel breathe around her.The Axis was awake.It no longer slept when she did. It waited.She shifted slightly, testing the state of her body, and felt it immediately—the low, intimate awareness that had haunted her dreams and followed her into waking. It was not hunger, not exactly. Hunger implied lack.This was fullness. Pressure. A contained storm pressing outward from her center, seeking direction.Selene exhaled slowly and pressed her palms flat against the mattress, grounding herself through sensation. The furs were warm beneath her hands, the stone floor beyond the bed cold enough to bite. She focused