บททั้งหมดของ THE REJECTED LUNA’S FOUR KINGS: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

POV EMMA BELLEThe air here didn’t just carry a chill; it carried a weight. Every step we took away from the light of the Great Hall felt like a step back in time. I led the way, my kinetic light flickering in a steady, violet pulse that illuminated the walls. Beside me, Félix held a torch of enchanted cedar, its emerald flames casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to shy away from the deeper darkness.Kaelen walked behind us, clutching the vibrating shard of the Mother-Key. The stone was no longer just glowing; it was humming, a low-frequency thrum that resonated in my very teeth."The resonance is peaking," Kaelen whispered, his voice echoing off the rough-hewn stone. "We’re directly beneath the throne room now. According to the Archivist’s hidden maps, there should be a seal here. A threshold that was never meant to be crossed by the 'unbound'.""I’m pretty sure we’re as unbound as it gets, Kaelen," Félix muttered, his eyes scanning the ceiling for any of those silver Glass-Bor

POV EMMA BELLEI hadn't heard him move. Félix was a ghost of the deep woods, a hunter who could traverse a minefield without snapping a twig. But I felt him. I felt the emerald pulse of his aura brush against my violet light, a silent, electric invitation that made the hair on my arms stand up."You're thinking too much, Little Bird," his voice was a low, gravelly vibration right against the shell of my ear.I didn't turn around. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, closing my eyes as his hands found my waist. His palms were hot, even through the silver silk of my gown, and the strength in his grip was a grounding force that made the rest of the world fade into insignificance."I'm thinking about the Valley," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm thinking about the archives. I'm thinking about how much I need you to make me forget."Félix didn't answer with words. He turned me around in his arms, his emerald eyes dark with a hunger that was raw, possessive, and beautiful. He

POV EMMA BELLEThe morning air was thick with the scent of ozone and crushed pine. I stood on the obsidian terrace of the partially restored Manor, watching the most dangerous playdate in the history of the North.Lyra was currently twenty feet in the air. At six months old, her control over her kinetic flight was already surpassing many of the Council’s former masters. She wasn't just floating; she was darting through the air with the grace of a swallow, her tiny violet eyes fixed on the "prey" below.The prey was Caelum.Our son had embraced the "Wild" side of his heritage with a terrifying efficiency. He didn't just blink; he shifted through the shadows of the quartz pillars as if he were part of the darkness itself. Every time Lyra lunged with a soft pulse of violet light, Caelum would vanish in a puff of emerald-tinted smoke, reappearing ten feet away with a mischievous gurgle."They're getting faster, Emma," Félix said, leaning against the stone railing beside me. He looked more

POV EMMA BELLEThe obsidian fortress no longer looked like a sanctuary. Under the influence of the First King’s awakening, the stone itself seemed to have turned liquid and then frozen into agonizing, jagged shapes. Tendrils of Void-Blight—that oily, sentient darkness Elias had warned us about—crawled over the battlements like a swarm of leeches."It’s breathing," Félix whispered, his hand tightening on my waist. He stood at the edge of the Frost-Bite Pass, his emerald eyes narrowed as he scanned the fortress. "The whole damn mountain is breathing, Emma."He was right. A low, rhythmic thrumming vibrated through the soles of our boots, a heartbeat that sounded like a funeral drum. The sky above the Crag was no longer purple or grey; it was a bruised, hollow black, lit only by the sickly silver lightning that crackled around the highest spires."The resonance is off the charts," Nathaniel said, stepping forward with his silver staff. He looked remarkably calm, though the way he kept gla

POV EMMA BELLEI woke up slowly, my body aching with the kind of exhaustion that feels like it’s settled into the very marrow of your bones. But for the first time in weeks, the "scratching" at the back of my mind—the cold, parasitic presence of the First King—was gone.I turned my head on the pillow, and the sight that met my eyes made the breath hitch in my throat. Félix was still asleep, sprawled out on his back with his usual lack of decorum. One of his arms was thrown over his head, and his blonde hair was a chaotic nest of curls against the white linen. In the soft, early light, the scars from the Root-Veins looked like silver threads against his tanned skin.He looked younger. He looked like the boy who had once promised to build me a house of leaves."Stop staring, Little Bird. It’s creepy," he rasped, his eyes still closed. A slow, sleepy hoyuelo appeared on his cheek."I wasn't staring," I lied, shifting closer to him. "I was conducting a structural analysis of your face to