Semua Bab THE REJECTED LUNA’S FOUR KINGS: Bab 61 - Bab 70

POV EMMA BELLEThe Plaza of the Twelve became a kaleidoscope of violence the second Magnus’s axe tasted the marble floor. The air in the Sun-Spire, once stagnant with the scent of expensive incense and sea salt, was instantly replaced by the sharp, metallic tang of kinetic ozone and the musk of the wild. Valerius’s elite Void-Shield warriors were unlike anything we had faced in the North; they were silent, their movements synchronized by a collective mental link, and their armor was etched with runes that bled a dark, anti-magical smoke. But they were prepared for a military assault, not a family feud fueled by fifteen years of suppressed rage.I moved through the center of the chaos like a ghost made of violet fire. Every time a Void-Shield warrior lunged for me, my kinetic field didn't just parry the strike—it absorbed the momentum and threw it back at them with triple the force. I wasn't looking for a fight; I was looking for Valerius. The High Inquisitor was retreating up the ivor

POV EMMA BELLEThe Sun-Spire at night was a place of deceptive tranquility. The marble walls hummed with the residual warmth of the southern sun, and the distant sound of the ocean served as a rhythmic lullaby. After the emotional whiplash of spying on Runa’s disastrously successful date and the chilling encounter with the Archivist, I had retreated to the royal chambers.Félix, Magnus, and the other Alphas were currently locked in the High Council Chamber for a "security summit" that had already lasted five hours. They were arguing over troop rotations and naval defenses, leaving me in the vast, silk-draped master suite with only the sleeping twins for company.I was sprawled across the massive bed, halfway between consciousness and a dream of lavender fields, when the heavy oak doors didn't just open—they hit the stone wall with the force of a kinetic blast.I bolted upright, my violet eyes flashing, a pulse of defensive energy already coiling in my palms. "Who’s there? I’ll vaporiz

POV EMMA BELLEThe golden sky of the Sun-Spire had vanished, replaced by a suffocating tapestry of ash and embers. The marble beneath our feet groaned, a deep, tectonic vibration that felt like the heart of the world was breaking. High atop the peak of the Spire, the wind howled with the force of a thousand dying stars, whipping my silver-and-violet cloak around me like a battle standard.But my eyes were not on the city below, nor on the lava beginning to seep through the ivory cracks of the plaza. They were fixed on the woman standing before me.The Memory-Wraith—the entity wearing my mother’s face—raised the True Mother-Key. The crystal pulsed with a rhythmic, rhythmic heat, sounding like a death knell. She looked at me with those vacant, violet-black eyes, her voice echoing not in the air, but directly in my marrow.The debt is blood, Emma. To still the mountain, the mountain must reclaim its own."No," I whispered, the kinetic light in my palms flickering. "I won't let you take t

POV EMMA BELLE I stood behind the heavy velvet curtain of the temporary pavilion, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was wearing a new gown, woven by the women of the coastal village. It was simple, made of sea-silk the color of a storm, but the embroidery was made of actual crushed silver salvaged from the ruins. I looked like the moon reflecting on a dark sea."Deep breaths, Little Bird," a voice whispered.I turned to see Félix. He was dressed in his full Rebel Consort regalia—dark leathers, silver buckles, and a cloak of emerald wool that matched his eyes. He still walked with a slight limp, and a faint, silver scar traced the line of his jaw where the volcanic fire had kissed him, but he looked magnificent. He looked like a King who didn't need a crown to be followed."I’m more nervous for this than I was for the volcano," I admitted, smoothing the silk over my hips. "Giving a speech to a million people? I’d rather fight another Memory-Wraith."Félix stepped close, his hands

POV EMMA BELLE The massive gates of the Black Crag were closed. Instead of the familiar banners of the White Queen, the battlements were draped in the colors of the Lesser Packs—grey, brown, and a muddy orange. These were the Alphas who had stayed behind, the ones who had "guarded" the North while we were bleeding in the South."Is it just me, or did someone change the locks while we were out?" Félix asked, his hand dropping instinctively to the hilt of his daggers. He shifted Caelum to his back, the baby letting out a soft gurgle as he sensed his father’s protective aura flaring."Stay back, Félix," I said, my voice dropping into that low, kinetic hum. I rode my mount to the very front, my silver-and-violet cloak snapping in the mountain wind. "I didn't liberate a continent just to be locked out of my own house."I looked up at the ramparts. A man stepped forward, dressed in heavy furs and polished iron. It was Alpha Garret of the Grey-Silt Pack. He had always been a man of more amb