All Chapters of Curse Of Tethys, Hellblades Series Part 3 of 3: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Manolya’s POVKenan placed a steady, calloused hand on my shoulder, the weight reassuring. “Relax,” he muttered.“It’s just a storm rolling in over the mountain. Give it a few minutes, we’ll see heavy rain.” He sighed under his breath.“Great. I was planning to go sailing tomorrow. Guess I’ll have to cancel again.”A small smile tugged at my lips despite the tension. “I’ll help you make it up to your wife,” I teased lightly.“You can borrow our yacht on Sunday if the weather clears. Trust me, some salt and sugar will do the trick.”Kenan gave me a half-hearted glare, though his mouth twitched slightly. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”The air had grown colder now, thick with moisture.“Police academy is finally done after two years,” Kenan said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “So, how was it?”I huffed. “After what Mr. Mehmet put me through? The academy felt like a vacation.”He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Must’ve been a nice break for you then.”“It was,” I said. “At least no

Manolya’s POVThe eyes stared at me. They felt familiar somehow, and the sensation sent a cold ripple down my spine.Before I could even process what I was seeing, the yellow flickers vanished.They blinked out like they had never been there at all.“Aziz.” I reached out through the mind-link I shared with him. I could feel the tension vibrating in my own mental projection. “What was that? Did you see it?”Aziz’s voice echoed back in my mind, sharp and unnervingly alert. “No. I cannot feel it. But I do have eyes, Manolya. Whatever it is, it is hiding from me and concealing its presence. That is not normal.”I glanced down at my bag.The faintest glow leaked through the fabric where my scimitar hellblade lay hidden.I yanked my coat around it to smother the light.“Manolya, cover it,” Aziz warned. “The lady does not need to see that.”“Covering it right now,” I whispered.My pulse quickened.If even Aziz could not sense this thing, then we had a serious problem.He had always been my s

Manolya’s POVBy the time I reached the station parking lot, I was soaked.The downpour picked up heavier just as I stepped out of the car. My hair was drenched and I could not help but shiver as the cold rain seeped into my skin.I made a beeline for the entrance and headed straight to the locker room.After a hot shower, I dried and braided my hair. I slipped into a fresh, crisp uniform and made my way downstairs to the cellar. This was where the air always grew heavy and stale.Kenan and Aylin were already waiting. Aylin, the forensic doctor and Kenan’s former partner, stood over the body. Her honey blonde hair was tied into a sleek bun, white plastic apron, latex gloves above her uniform.The man was already laid out the cold examination table. As usual, the checkered black and white floor stung my eyes, and the sickly green tint of the walls made the room feel even more oppressive.It seemed to resonate with the deathly stench lingering in the air.The man on the table looked to

Manolya’s POVWe finally made it to the Mansion. Even in the dark, the villa was a striking blend of modern and contemporary style. Its white walls and turquoise-blue accents gleamed under the moonlight, perfectly complementing the coastal beauty of Akyaka. Beyond the house, the beach stretched out into the shadows. The sandy dunes were pale under the stars, and the constant sound of the crashing waves and the gentle breeze soothed my mind for a brief moment.The grand, double wooden doors swung open as my uncle pushed them aside for me. They were beautiful, adorned with carefully carved golden patterns of Arabic inscriptions from the Quran. As I stepped into the hallway, our natural stone floors reflected the warm glow of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling medallion. On one side, open closets displayed rows of high-end coats and a few designer bags, while a large potted lemon tree added a burst of vibrant yellow against the soft cream walls. A long, hand-knotted Turkish

Manolya’s POVI stared at the name on the parchment until the gold ink blurred. “The Rüya Kara Memorial Mosque,” I whispered, my voice caught in my throat. I looked up at my father, the man who used to care more about his own reputation than anyone else. “Most men would have put their own name in those letters, Dad. They would have wanted the legacy for themselves.”Emre reached across the mahogany, his hand steady as he covered mine. “I wanted to prove to you that I have truly changed. Not by words, but by action. She is the only legacy that matters now. I just wanted to make sure I finally did it right. She was truly the best thing in my life before you. You were my second gift from Allah.”I felt a single, hot tear track down my cheek.He didn’t look away this time.He didn’t offer a distant, formal platitude.He just wiped the salt from my skin with his thumb. “She would be so proud of you,” I managed to say. “I know she is watching us, and she is finally seeing the man she always