Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 40

Kael's blade came down fast, and I barely got my shield up in time. The orange fire hissed against silver, and the impact rattled up my arms hard enough that my teeth clacked together. I stumbled back a step, boots skidding on stone slick with someone else's blood.He didn't give me room to recover. He came again, low this time, aiming for my legs instead of my chest, and I threw myself sideways to avoid it, a flame trailing off my shoulder in a wild arc that scorched the ground where I'd just been standing."You're better than the last time we did this," Kael said, circling me slow, unhurried, like he had all night to enjoy himself. "But you're tired. I can smell it on you. Exhaustion changes the way fire tastes when it burns.""Keep talking," I said, breathing hard. "Give me more time to figure out how you die."He laughed, low and genuine, which unsettled me more than his calm ever had. I forced myself to focus, to feel the fire the way Mara taught me instead of just reaching for i

"He's fading," the healer said, her voice sharp now, all careful gentleness gone from it. "his Pulse is dropping fast. I need hot water, moonflower root, and someone strong enough to hold him still while I work."I didn't move. I couldn't. My hands stayed locked around his, watching his chest rise and fall in shallower and shallower increments, watching the color drain further from a face that had already looked half gone when I first found him in that cold, dark chamber hours ago."Sera." My father's voice, steady despite the chaos around us. "Move aside. Let her work.""I can't lose him," I said, and hated how small the words sounded, how much they revealed about a truth I'd been avoiding for months. "Not like this. Not because nobody bothered to check whether the wound closed."Rowe knelt beside me, prying my hands gently away from Damon's, careful but firm. "You're not losing him tonight. Not if I have anything to say about it. But you need to let her do her work."I let go, final

I stayed on the floor beside Damon's cot long after Mara had gone off to check on the other wounded, my legs too drained to hold me up, my mind too full to leave. He drifted in and out of a real sleep now instead of that terrible half conscious fog, and every time his eyes opened even briefly, he looked for me first, like he needed to confirm I was still there before he let himself rest again."You don't have to stay," he murmured once, close to dawn, voice thick with exhaustion."I know," I said. "But I'm staying anyway."He didn't argue. He just reached for my hand again, and I let him keep it, watching the gray light creep in through the tall windows until the hall filled with the ordinary sounds of a manor waking up around us, servants sweeping ash from the hearths, healers changing bandages on rows of cots that hadn't emptied yet.I didn't go home that morning, or the next. Rowe rode back to Crimson Hollow to update my father a

The handwriting inside was familiar in a way that made my chest ache before I’d even finished the first line, small and precise, the same careful hand that had once signed a hundred supply requisitions I’d carried through Ashwood’s halls without ever imagining it would write to me like this. The ink had dried a deep, uncompromising black, the kind that never smudged even when the parchment was folded and unfolded a dozen times. I could still see the faint pressure marks where the pen had dug a little harder on certain letters, as if the writer had paused to choose each word with deliberate care.Sera. I imagine you’ve heard by now where I’ve landed. I won’t pretend it was an accident, and I won’t pretend I regret it. Bloodmoon offered me something Ashwood never could, a place where my usefulness matters more than my birth. But I didn’t write to justify myself to you. I wrote because I know something you don’t, something about the moonfire bloodline that even Mara’s old records never c

We did not speak on the ride back. The horses knew the road better than we did in the dark. Hooves struck stone and packed earth in a hard, relentless rhythm that almost matched the drums still rolling behind us. Every time the wind shifted I thought I could still hear them, low and patient, counting the hours until first light. The letter pressed against my ribs with every stride, edges sharp through the fabric of my cloak. I had carried it for two days like a second heartbeat. Now it felt like a brand. Rowe rode at the head of the column, posture rigid, already calculating distances and numbers in his head. My father stayed close on my right. I could feel the weight of the questions he was holding back. The same questions he had asked on the manor steps. The ones I had refused to answer. We reached the gates of Crimson Hollow just as the eastern sky began to pale. The night guard was already stirring; the horn from earlier had done its work. Torches lined the walls. Men and wome