جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 120

Freya AshwolfClaws itching against the rough oak table, I stared down at the blank parchment before me, refusing to send a mind-link to Lucien Nightbane. I knew he had the raw power to shatter my brother’s plight with a single word. House Nightbane held the throat of every registry in the Crimson Hollow Dominion. Yet after everything I had snarled in his face—after rejecting his pup Caelan’s invites to the Blood Moon Gardens time and time again—begging the True Alpha for a favor would tear through what little pride I had left as the Ashwolf pack's lone Omega.Doubt tasted like ash on my tongue. I felt utterly helpless watching Rowan run himself ragged, his body reeking of exhaustion as the local councils slammed their heavy iron doors directly in his face. If I possessed an ounce of real authority instead of this weak, statusless rank, my brother would not be begging for scraps across Nightfall Haven."High Lord Octavian," Roderic Valemont murmured, bowing his head as the heavy doubl

"Keep up with the spirit-herbs and the bone will be completely set," the Blood Physician said, letting out a soft laugh when he caught my intense expression."Then can I—" I spoke up impatiently, desperate to ask about returning to my moon-harp. Unfortunately, the elder physician cut me off before the words could fully leave my mouth."Do not think you can jump straight back to drawing a heavy silver bow just because the scar has stopped bleeding," the physician warned, shaking his gray head sternly. "A shattered shoulder joint needs deep rest under the waxing moon. You will need to recuperate quietly for at least another full moon cycle before you even touch that instrument again."The faint spark in my chest died instantly, leaving a cold, hollow ache. A full moon cycle... I can afford to wait, but the Ashwolf Moon Dominion orchestra cannot. The grand departure for the capital performance is only a few sun cycles away, and there is no way my body can handle the strain of a master se

"Step inside," I whispered, sliding to the side of the doorway as Lucien Nightbane carried the sleeping pup into the warmth of our hall.Lucien nodded, his broad shoulders brushing the frame as he crossed the threshold. "Thank you, Freya."With his silent permission, he strode straight into my quarters and gently laid Caelan down upon the blankets. The boy was dead to the world, curled into a tight ball with his small hands tucked beneath his cheek. Lucien lingered beside the bed for a moment, adjusting the fur quilt over the child's shoulders before stepping back out into the living area. He pressed a large, calloused hand against his abdomen, his jaw clenching as a sharp wave of discomfort crossed his features.I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "You have not eaten since midday, have you?"He looked up, his amber eyes dim with fatigue. "There was no time."During the weeks I spent isolated near the citadel, I had witnessed his relentless work ethic more than once. Andrew had

The sheer, suffocating tyranny of House Nightbane makes my Omega wolf snarl inside my ribs!My knuckles turn white, my claws almost bursting through my skin as I force myself to stand tall. I try to draw a deep, steady breath, but my chest feels as if an iron band is crushing my lungs. This is my very first time experiencing the ruthless, terrifying weight of pure Alpha authority backed by ancient territorial dominance.The high-caste bloodlines can obliterate years of my blood, sweat, and torn calluses with a single flick of a wrist. To these arrogant lords, wiping out my standing in the sanctuary is no different than crushing an ant under a heavy boot."Why is their domineering cruelty any different from rogue raiders burning a village?" I whisper under my breath, my voice shaking with unvented rage.For the first time in my life, I feel completely helpless, small, and exposed. I believed my talent as a bard made me strong, that my raw dedication to the moon-harp would earn me respe

I trace the polished ironwood frame of the instrument resting on the oak table, my fingers trembling as they brush against the silver strings."Rowan," I breathe, my voice barely audible over the crackle of the hearth fire. "This... this is an ancient relic. The master bards of the northern realms played instruments forged just like this. Where on earth did you get the silver coins to acquire Nirvana?"Rowan leans against the kitchen archway, his dark chest rising and falling with quiet satisfaction. He wipes a smudge of charcoal from his cheek, grinning widely. "I traded with an elder collector who deals in ancestral artifacts. He told me it belonged to the legendary spirits of our art generations ago. You love it, don't you?""Of course I love it," I murmur, my heart aching with a mixture of profound gratitude and sudden anxiety. "But your pack hall enterprise is only just taking its first breath. The Runic tracking software, the Eye of Horus, is still in its infancy. You need every