บททั้งหมดของ Blood Moon's Alpha: His Rejected Mate, His Hidden Heir: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Before Morgana can answer, a hesitant knock echoes against the doors of the Sanctum.Kieran turns his head toward the entrance, his arm remaining firmly locked around Morgana’s waist.“Enter,” he commands, his deep voice echoing through the cavern.The door creaks open just enough for a young palace maid to slip inside, her head bowed so low her chin practically touches her chest.She holds a tray with towels and garments, a rich, deep emerald dress woven from heavy silk for Morgana, and a dark, gold-trimmed tunic with trousers for the Alpha King.“Y-Your Majesty,” the maid stammers, keeping her eyes glued to the floor as she sets the tray down on a marble bench near the edge of the pool. “The Queen Mother sent these for you both.”“Leave us,” Kieran says softly.The maid bows hurriedly and scurries out, the doors sealing shut behind her once more.Kieran lifts Morgana into his arms, stepping out of the water onto the stone floor. He takes a towel and gently dries her skin, brushing t

Before Kieran can step forward, Morgana places a gentle, firm hand on his wrist, staying him.She takes a step forward, standing directly beneath the towering gaze of the elders. A quiet, terrifying stillness falls over her. Deep within her pupils, a faint, ethereal silver light flickers, a subtle pulse of ancient spiritual energy that fills the room with an undeniable, suffocating weight.The elders gasp at the aura radiating off her, several of them stumbling back into their seats as the raw, divine pressure washes over them.“You speak of strength, Elder Malakai,” Morgana says, her voice smooth, calm, and ringing with an otherworldly authority that echoes through the stone walls. “I survived the abuse of the beta's household.”She lifts her chin, her eyes locking onto Malakai until the old noble breaks eye contact, trembling beneath her gaze of the woman he just called a low born.“I did not ask for a crown,” Morgana continues, her voice firm and unwavering. “I was chosen by the Go

Morgana grips Kieran's shirt tightly, tears spilling over her lashes as the contraction slowly passes, leaving her weak and trembling.“Mother, I... it hurts,” she cries out, her voice breaking.“Let's take her to the royal doctor,” the queen mother says, turning on her heel.They all hurry toward the exit.Kieran runs with frantic, powerful strides, carrying Morgana as if she weighs nothing at all.He's torn. Between his responsibilities as a king, a son, a husband, a brother, and a father.His mother leads the way, while his little sister tries her best to keep up, her small hand clutching the edge of Kieran's tunic.Morgana writhes in his arms, her body shaking as another wave of pressure builds low in her pelvis.The child is set on coming out. The natural force is overwhelming her body, demanding her to yield to the birth whether the castle is under siege or not.“Stay strong, my love,” Kieran murmurs down to her, his breath warm against her temple as he charges down the final st

The blinding silver explosion fades into pitch blackness. Silence follows. Hours later… When Morgana opens her eyes, the world is cold, quiet, and dark. Tall pine branches rustle softly above her head. The chill of the night wind blows gently across her skin. Where is she? She tries to reach into her thoughts to grasp a memory, a name, or a face, but there is nothing. Her mind is a total blank. She does not know who she is, where she came from, or how she ended up lying alone in these deep, dark woods. She sits up, just as a high, fragile cry shatters the quiet. It is a baby's cry. Morgana blinks through her hazy vision and turns her head to the direction where the cry came from. A few feet away, on a bed of crushed leaves lies a tiny, wriggling infant, covered in blood and slick fluids. “Oh Goddess!” Morgana looks down at herself. Her white gown is torn, stained, and soaked in dark red blood. And pain throbs low in her hips, heavy and dull, telling her body what her memo

Kieran sprints through the archways of the royal medical wing, his bare feet slapping hard against the cold floor.He presses the tiny, icy body of his son against his naked chest, desperate to transfer every drop of his own body heat into the dying child.“Doctor!” Kieran roars, his Alpha voice shattering the quiet hall. “Someone save him!”Doors fly open down the corridor. Dr. Alistair, the head royal doctor, rushes out alongside three nurses.Their faces turn pale as they see the naked king covered in dirt and dried blood, cradling a tiny, newborn in his arms.“Your Majesty!” Dr. Alistair shouts, signaling the nurses to pull up a mobile heated bassinet. “Place the child here!”Kieran’s hands tremble so violently he can barely lower the infant onto the soft blankets.The baby boy is blue, his lips pale, his small chest rising only once every few agonizing seconds.He makes no sound. He has no strength left.“He is freezing, his heart is barely beating,” Dr. Alistair says, rapidly ho