Todos los capítulos de Bound by the Cursed Moon: Capítulo 491 - Capítulo 500

Point of View: Rhen“Do not answer her, Briar. Please do not answer her. If she asks again, look only at me, and let me answer for you, love, because I cannot lose you. Not like this. Not today. Not ever. I mean it.”Briar did not look at me. Her eyes stayed on the water, and her golden hands glowed at her sides like two small lamps.“Mom, you are squeezing my arm.”“I know.”“It hurts.”“I know. I am still not letting go.”The chime had faded, but the last note lived on inside my ribs. Cold air curled up off the black water. The red moon lay across it like a drop of spilled wine. My boots were soaked from the wet grass and my mouth tasted of iron. I had led riders through floods and fire, and not one lesson from those years helped me now.“Kieran,” I whispered. “Tell her to step back.”“Rhen.” His voice was rough. “Look at what she is standing in front of.”I looked. The water was no longer flat. A ring of pale light had opened around its edge, and inside the ring something turned sl

Point of View: Rhen“Rhen, you told me nothing on the road. You told the dark. Say it aloud now, or it will keep feeding on you while you sleep. I have waited four hundred years for someone to say one hard thing plainly.”Maren’s voice slid up the cliff like cold water under a door. I felt every head on the ridge turn toward me.I was still watching the stone. The white light along its crack had widened into a long, thin doorway, and above the black water a picture was forming in the air. It looked like smoke, but it moved like memory. I saw a ring of people standing on the very shelf where Dorian knelt. They were dressed in old, rough clothes. Their hands were joined. There were more than five of them, more than six. Their faces were turned in toward the water, and they were not afraid. They were tired, and they were together.The smell of wet stone and cold iron rolled off the water. My fingers had gone numb inside my gloves, and the hair on my neck stood up the way it does before a

Point of View: Rhen“Take her hand, Renna. Do not let go. Do not let him say another word. If he finishes that promise out loud, I do not know if any of us can pull him back. Hold on. Together. I mean it.”I heard my own voice as if it came from someone standing behind me. My hands were shaking. Kieran was still holding me tight, but I twisted free and dropped to my knees beside Renna on the stone. Corvin hung over the edge like a man at the top of a ladder. Renna had both his wrists in her hands, and her boots were skidding on the wet rock.“Corvin!” she screamed. “Look at me! Look at me, you stubborn man!”His eyes were open, but they were somewhere else. The black threads coiled around his ankles like tame snakes. Above him the sky had turned the color of a bruise.Rain that was not rain began to fall, cold and thick as oil, and every drop hissed where it struck the stone. My hair stuck to my cheeks. Somewhere behind us a rider was praying out loud, and the sound wobbled like a can

Point of View: Rhen“Now, Dorian. Now, before it gathers itself again. Sable, keep your hand on his shoulder and do not stop speaking, no matter what you see. No matter what he says. Do not let him go. We only get one chance.”Wren’s voice cracked through the cold morning air as I pushed to the front of the crowd. Kieran held one of my hands. Briar held the other. Her hands were no longer only warm. They were bright, so bright I could see the bones of her fingers through her skin.The door stood open on the stone. It was a thin white slit, taller than a man, and behind it the world looked like the inside of a pearl. Dorian knelt in front of it with his palm flat on the marker. His arm trembled to the shoulder.“Dorian,” Sable said.His head fell back. Golden light poured from his eyes, from his mouth, from every seam in his skin.“Dorian,” she said again. “I am here. I am right here.”Around us the ridge groaned as if it were breathing. The wind that had been missing for two days came

Point of View: Rhen“Sit down, Rhen. I know you are angry. But if these envoys hear the pack argue in front of them, we will lose the only chance we have to do this properly. Breathe first, speak second. I am with you.”Kieran said it quietly, one hand on my back, as we stood at the door of the great hall. Above us, carved into the old beam in letters as tall as my arm, the words still read MALACHI VANE, FOUNDER.I looked at them and I felt something I could not name. Not hate. Not love. Something like looking at a photograph of a father who once told you a terrible truth and never said sorry.“I am not angry,” I said.“Your jaw says otherwise.”“My jaw is tired.”We walked in together. The hall was packed to the rafters. Elara sat at the long table with the bronze seal in front of her. Halvard stood behind her chair, arms folded, looking humbled but upright. Wren had spread her archive across half the table, dusty rolls and bundled letters and one long map on yellow paper. Odalys sat