Semua Bab Bound to the Moon: The Exorcist's Accidental Alpha: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The scent of metallic copper and cold, wet fur was the first thing that clawed its way into Scarlett’s consciousness. It was a thick, cloying smell, altogether wrong for a girl who had fallen asleep in her cramped, lavender-scented apartment in the heart of the modern city. This wasn't the sterile air of a skyscraper; it was the heavy, suffocating atmosphere of something ancient, primal, and dangerously alive.Her eyes snapped open, but instead of her familiar peeling ceiling, she found herself staring at a vaulted bathroom of white marble and intricate gold leaf. A dull, rhythmic ache throbbed behind her temples—the unmistakable telltale sign of a soul that had been forcibly shoved into a body that didn't belong to it. Every nerve ending in her new frame felt like it was being scorched by invisible fire, a side effect of the dimensional displacement.Scarlett sat up with a sharp gasp, the sudden movement sending a dizzying wave through her as her silk robe rustled softly against the

The sun had barely begun to bleed through the heavy, charcoal-gray curtains of the Thorne estate when Scarlett started the meticulous process of counting her liquid assets. In the original novel, Scarlett Thorne was a woman of excessive luxury, but the new Scarlett knew better. Diamonds and designer bags were beautiful, but in the gritty underbelly of this city, they were as good as a GPS tracker. Every pawn shop and high-end boutique reported back to either the corrupt Thorne family or the lethal Lycan packs. If she wanted to disappear, she needed cash—untraceable, cold, and hard."You're planning something," a low, resonant rumble vibrated from the shadows of the doorway.Scarlett didn't jump, though her heart gave a small, traitorous flutter. She was becoming dangerously accustomed to Caleb’s silent, predatory presence. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a black silk shirt that strained against the massive breadth of his shoulders. His golden eyes followed he

The Vane family’s ancestral estate felt like a mausoleum for a history that refused to stay buried. It was a sprawling Gothic fortress on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by iron gates that looked more like spears pointed at the heavens. As the iron gates groaned open, Scarlett felt a heavy, stagnant energy washing over her. This wasn't just old money; this was old blood."The atmosphere here... it is suffocating," Caleb murmured, his hand resting instinctively on the small of Scarlett’s back. It was a protective gesture that had become a habit over the last few days, one that Scarlett found herself leaning into more than she cared to admit."It’s the Blood-Wraith," Scarlett replied, her fingers tightening around the cold jade handle of her cinnabar brush. "A creature born of centuries of greed and violent ends. It doesn't just kill; it feeds on the memories of the soul."They were met at the door by a stone-faced butler who led them deep into the bowels of the mansion. The eleva

Rain lashed against the roof of the SUV like a hail of cheap diamonds, a chaotic and rhythmic drumming that mirrored the frantic beating of Scarlett’s heart. Her hands were gripped so tightly around the steering wheel that her knuckles had turned a ghostly white. She didn’t dare return to her apartment; the Thorne family’s influence was woven into every digital fiber of this city. To go home was to walk straight into Julian’s waiting trap."Where are we going?" Caleb’s voice was a low, resonant vibration that seemed to fill the cramped space of the car with a raw, predatory energy. He was staring out the window at the neon lights of the city blurring past, his golden eyes glowing with an inner fire that Scarlett found increasingly difficult to ignore."To a place where the light doesn't reach," Scarlett replied curtly, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror.An hour later, they pulled up to the back entrance of a dilapidated bookstore in the Old District. The sign above the door hung

The morning after the "marking" felt different. The air in the Sanctuary’s narrow suite was no longer just heavy with incense; it was charged with a restless, crackling energy that made the hair on Scarlett’s arms stand up. The fake mark on Caleb’s neck—a faint, silver-crimson tracing of her blood—seemed to pulse in time with her own heartbeat.Scarlett sat at the small wooden desk, her fingers trembling as she tried to draw a fresh set of spirit-seals. But her concentration was shattered. Every time she moved, she could feel Caleb’s gaze on her. He wasn't sleeping anymore. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad chest bare, watching her with the silent, unwavering focus of a wolf watching its mate from the treeline."You’re staring," Scarlett said, not looking back."I am observing," Caleb corrected, his voice no longer the rasping struggle of an amnesiac, but a smooth, dark baritone that commanded the space around him. "The way you draw those symbols... it is like watching