Alle Kapitel von Killed and Reborn: My Alpha’s Obsession : Kapitel 131 – Kapitel 140

The road south bent away from the river, climbing into a low spine of hills. The air turned crisper, the scent of pine stronger, the ground under the horses’ hooves rockier.Three days out from the waystation, the first messenger found them.It was late morning, the sun just beginning to burn through a smear of high, thin clouds. They were riding two by two along a narrow track when Rhea lifted a hand, nostrils flaring.“Hawk,” she said. “Blackmoon colors.”Rin shaded her eyes.Sure enough, a dark shape cut a looping path across the sky. The bird banked once, then arrowed down toward them, a small leather cylinder strapped to its leg.Jax lifted an arm; the hawk landed there with a disgruntled flap, talons digging into his bracer.“You again,” he told it. “You better be bringing something worth all this effort.”He unbuckled the cylinder and passed it to Rhea. The hawk pecked at his ear, offended, and then launched itself back into the sky.Rhea worked the cap off and shook out a roll

They camped a few miles past Brackenford, far enough that the village’s smells and arguments couldn’t reach them, close enough that Rin still felt the weight of its stares on her skin.The clearing Rhea chose was unremarkable: ringed by trees, soft ground for bedrolls, decent cover. A small stream whispered somewhere off to the right. The sky above was a dull, starless grey.Firelight pushed back the dark in a ragged circle. Beyond it, the forest pressed close.Rin sat on a fallen log at the edge of camp, bowl of stew cooling in her hands. She’d eaten three bites and tasted none of them.Every time she blinked, she saw hands reaching.For her braid. For her scar. For the bit of her that wasn’t bone or blood but story.Little moon. Blessing. Proof.“You’re doing it again,” Talia murmured as she plopped down beside her with enviable insensitivity, shoveling food into her mouth with gusto.“Doing what?” Rin asked.“Turning food into a prop while you glower at the middle distance,” Talia

The next outpost they passed through wasn’t smoking for once.It was a larger settlement set at the crossroads of two trade routes. The buildings were sturdier—stone foundations, well‑kept thatch. A low palisade ringed the village, more a deterrent to stray beasts than serious defense. The smell of baking bread drifted from a long, low structure near the center.Rin’s wolf approved. Her human side was cautiously optimistic.Rhea spoke to their captain, a compact woman with a scar down her left cheek and the calm eyes of someone who’d seen enough trouble not to panic at every shadow. There’d been marks here too—scratched on the back wall of the tavern, one half‑erased on the door to the mill—but no shrines. No fires.“Old stories are louder than new ones,” the captain admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck. “We’ve got some fools meeting at night to talk about how ‘blood made us strong.’ But they scatter quick when patrols walk by.”“We’ll talk to a few of them,” Rhea said.

They found the clue a day later, in a place that should have been forgettable.It was just a waymarker clearing—a widening of the road where two tracks crossed and a few old stones had been sunk into the ground generations ago to point the way toward different valleys. Traders had used it. Hunters. Once, long ago, patrols.Now, someone else had.“Tracks,” Sera called from up ahead. “Recent.”Rhea signaled a halt. “Dismount,” she said. “Eyes open.”They spread out cautiously.The air here was still heavy with the smell of damp earth and old leaves. No smoke. No shouting. Just quiet.“Over here,” Talia said, crouching near one of the waystones.Rin joined her.On the flat side of the rock, half‑hidden under a smear of mud, someone had scratched the distorted symbol again—hooked lines, broken circle, the by‑now familiar wrongness.“Persistent little cowards,” Jax muttered.Rin swiped her thumb over the mark, feeling the grooves. “Shallow,” she said. “Done in a hurry. They didn’t linger.”

The next messenger found them before noon.They’d broken camp from the ridge at first light, the sky a pale wash of blue and white above the trees. The road wound down through stands of spruce and birch, the air wet and green. The weight in Rin’s chest from last night—sharp, terrifying, good—had settled into something almost steady.*Us,* he’d said.She replayed it as they rode, fingers occasionally brushing Kael’s when their horses drifted close. She didn’t let herself smile too, obviously. Rhea already watched them with the flat, unimpressed look of someone who’d seen enough disastrous camp romances for three lifetimes.They were two hours past the ridge when the wards along the road shivered.Rin’s head snapped up. The wolf inside her pricked its ears.“Feel that?” she asked.“Message,” Rhea said, already signaling for them to slow. “Blackmoon weave. It's not urgent, but not casual either.”Rin extended her senses, brushing the invisible strands threaded through the underbrush. A s