บททั้งหมดของ THE REJECTED LUNA’S FOUR KINGS: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

POV EMMA BELLEThe air around the North gate of the Obsidian Spire didn't just feel cold; it felt dead. The stench of necrotic magic was so thick I could taste it on my tongue, a bitter, ashen flavor that made my wolf snarl in disgust. But as I rounded the final corner, the sight before me turned my blood into molten lead.Damon was on one knee, his massive double-headed axe embedded in the chest of a High Guard, but three more were closing in, their silver pikes glowing with a sickly violet light. Nathaniel was a few yards away, his face deathly pale, blood leaking from his ears as he held a shimmering silver dome of energy over himself and a wounded Vincent. They were being overwhelmed. The Council hadn’t just sent warriors; they had sent executioners."Félix, right flank!" I roared, the sound echoing through the stone courtyard like a clap of thunder.I didn't wait for a response. I didn't need to. I could feel him—a golden spark in the periphery of my soul. The bond we had just so

POV EMMA BELLEThe morning light that filtered through the narrow windows of the Black Crag was a pale, crystalline silver, reflecting off the fresh snow outside. But inside the solar, the air was warm—thick with the scent of the hearth and the lingering, electric hum of the bond I had shared with Félix through the night.I didn't want to leave the room. Every time my skin brushed against the silk sheets, I was reminded of the way his hands had felt on my waist, the way his lips had made a silent vow against my neck. But the world outside was still screaming for its Queen, and I had four kings waiting for me.When I finally entered the great hall, the atmosphere was a mix of tactical intensity and a strange, simmering domesticity. Nathaniel was standing by a long oak table covered in maps, his fingers tracing the trade routes of the North. Damon was by the fireplace, sharpening his massive axe with a rhythmic shrr-shrr that vibrated in the floorboards.And then there was Félix.He was

POV EMMA BELLEThe sky over the Black Crag was no longer the deep indigo of a mountain night. It was a bruised, pulsating violet, choked by the necrotic smoke of the Council’s forbidden rituals. Even from miles away, I could feel the mountain screaming. The ancient obsidian stones, which had stood for millennia as a sanctuary for the exiled, were being hollowed out by a dark, parasitic magic."They're inside," I whispered, the words catching in my throat as Félix carried me through the canopy of the Forbidden Forest.Félix didn't slow down. His breathing was a steady, rhythmic rasp, his body a machine of pure, desperate speed. I could feel his heart hammering against my back—not with fear, but with a cold, focused rage that mirrored my own."They can take the halls, Little Bird," Félix growled, his voice vibrating through my chest. "But they’ll never take the throne. Not as long as we’re breathing."The golden thread between us was no longer just a hum; it was a roar. It felt like a l

POV EMMA BELLEThe door to my chambers hadn't just closed; it had sealed the rest of the universe away. The flickering orange glow of the fireplace danced across Félix’s face, highlighting the raw, emerald fire in his eyes. There were no more jokes, no more playful nicknames. There was only the heavy, suffocating heat of two souls that had been starved for a lifetime."Emma," he rasped, and the way he said my name felt like a physical touch against my bare skin.I didn't wait. I couldn't. I crossed the space between us and slammed into him, my mouth finding his with a desperation that bordered on violence. I tasted the salt of his skin and the wild, spicy scent of his arousal. He groaned into my mouth, a deep, animal sound that vibrated through my chest and down to my thighs, which were already aching for him.His hands, calloused from years of survival and the bowstring, found my waist. He didn't just hold me; he gripped me, his fingers bruising the skin of my hips as he hoisted me u

POV EMMA BELLEThe Great Hall had cleared, leaving only the heavy silence of the mountain and the lingering, bitter scent of Alpha frustration. I sat on my throne, my fingers subconsciously straying to the mark on my neck. It was warm, a steady pulse of silver light that acted as a constant, golden hum of support in the back of my mind. Even now, I could feel Félix nearby—a quiet presence in the shadows, trusting me, yet hurting.The Union of the Four had to be completed. But the others had mistaken my necessity for a surrender."He’s waiting for you in the subterranean springs," Vincent’s voice drifted from the darkness near the tapestry. He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on the darkening horizon. "Damon’s fire is volatile, Emma. He thinks the only way to anchor his soul to yours is the ancient way. The primal way.""He’s wrong," I said, my voice sharp. "I am the White Queen. I define the rites, not the traditions of men who died a thousand years ago."I stood up and made my