All Chapters of Killed and Reborn: My Alpha’s Obsession : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

*Aria*Every dusk, when thin moonlight crept over the treeline, more of its face was stained.The rust‑smear from the horizon crept higher each night, a slow bruise blooming across the sky. By Rowan’s calculations, we should have had ten days before it peaked.Elyra had stolen three of them.“We have a week at most,” Rowan said, voice flat, eyes on the sky. “Less, if she keeps pushing.”A week to prepare for the end of a curse that had shaped Lucian’s entire life and had already killed me once.So we trained.Not for show.Not for comfort.To survive.***The first morning, the training field was a study in grudging coexistence.Blackmoon warriors lined one side, Nightfang the other. The air between them hummed with an old rivalry that hadn’t had time to fade, only been temporarily rerouted at the witch.I stepped into the middle, boots sinking slightly into damp earth, my pulse picking up under the weight of a hundred eyes.Rhea stood to my left, spear butt grounded beside her foot.

*Aria*The tremor left more than dust in its wake.Word of it rolled through the estate like a low growl—warriors muttering about bad omens, elders snapping at each other about structural wards, and “it’s just the old stone settling” Underneath all of it was the same, simple truth:The web was straining.And we were about to walk into the center of it.I didn’t go looking for Lucian. He found me first.When I reached the end of the corridor, he was there, striding toward me like a storm pulled on a leash. His shoulders were tight, jaw set, eyes already scanning my face for signs of hurt.“You felt it,” he said. Not a question.“I felt it,” I confirmed.His gaze dropped briefly to my pocket, where the folded prophecy crinkled when I moved.“And something else,” he said. “You’ve got that ‘I found the thing you didn’t want me to find’ look.”“I learned it from watching you,” I said.The corner of his mouth twitched, then flattened again.“Come on,” I said softly. “You’re going to want a

*Aria*For a heartbeat, everything stopped.The blood moon’s smile hung above us, carved in light and shadow.The wave of cold that followed slammed through the clearing, ripping the breath from my lungs. Frost bloomed in silver lace along armor edges, and the tips of grass—then shattered as sound rushed back. I heard a dozen, two dozen, small gasps as warriors choked on suddenly frozen air.A twisted wolf shook off its shock first, lunging at a Nightfang scout whose eyes were still locked on the sky. I snapped my attention down, flung a bolt of light at the wolf’s face. It hit with a sharp, cracking sound, sending the creature skidding sideways, smoking around the eyes.“DOWN!” I shouted, voice raw. “Eyes on the ground! She wants you to look up!”The spell of the moon’s grin fractured.Wolves blinked, shook themselves like water‑logged dogs, and yanked their gazes back to the enemies in front of them. Breath steamed around us in ragged white plumes.Elyra’s voice slid through my skul

*Aria*Equilibrium never lasts; the knot of power between Elyra and me strained past some invisible limit—and broke.Not cleanly.Her shadow‑force surged one way, my light slammed the other, and the difference snapped across my nerves like a whip.Pain ripped up my arms, arcing through my chest.My knees hit the ground.The world lurched.For a second, everything doubled.The clearing around me and another clearing overlaid on top of it—the one from before. From *then.* Trees washed in rust‑stained glow melting into the memory of a younger forest, less scarred, less wrong. The wreckage of this battle bleeding into the ghost of the first.I tasted iron and dirt and fear.My fear.His.Hers.In both visions, the moon was wrong.In both, there was an altar.Last time, it had been stone and rope and my own helpless body.This time, it was the weight of my choices and the web of lives anchored to me.My ribs screamed as Elyra’s force dug in again, fingers of shadow pressing against bone li

**Lucian**The first thing I felt was her hand slip.Not the magic.Not the moon.Her hand.One moment, Aria’s fingers were a vise around mine, blood‑slick and shaking but *there*—the anchor that had held me upright through a witch’s blades and a lifetime of cursed nights.The next, they were gone.Emptiness flooded my palm—then pain hit.The curse mark didn’t just tear off my skin.It tore out of me.White heat knifed up my arm, flaying every nerve it had ever claimed, clawing through my chest like something with teeth. I screamed—a raw, mangled sound that didn’t feel like it came from my throat so much as from the years she’d stolen.Light exploded from under my skin, tracing the old sigil’s lines as it ripped free.For a moment, it was blinding.Then it was gone.Just—gone.The absence it left behind was a different kind of agony.Foreign.Too light.Like a weight I’d forgotten I carried had been ripped away, leaving only bruises and a strange, terrifying *space* where it had been.