Todos los capítulos de Forbidden Under the Blood Moon: Capítulo 371 - Capítulo 380

POV: KADE ASHBORN“Everyone sit down and keep your hands on the table where I can see them. A man opened my gate this dawn, four of ours are dead, and I will not leave this room until I know whose hand wore that glove.”Nobody moved at first. The council hall smelled of wet wool and cold smoke, and the fire had burned down to a red eye. I stood at the head of the long table with my shoulder bound tight under my shirt and felt every gaze weigh on me. Then chairs scraped, one by one. Maelor, the eldest of my father’s councillors. Orsin, the Vane archer captain, still smelling of bowstring wax. Cody at my left, pale and stubborn. Brannic, the big loyalist who had joined us a year ago and never once looked easy in our colours. And Dorn at my right hand, where he had sat since I was a boy.“Speak, Alpha,” Dorn said gently. “We are listening.”I laid five things on the table. I had named them in my head all afternoon, the way my father taught me to count a battlefield.“One. The glove.” I s

POV: KADE ASHBORN“You should hire better guards, Alpha. I walked past three of them to reach this cellar, and not one saw me. Now close that hatch and listen, because I only have until sunrise to save both our necks, and I will not say it twice.”I closed the hatch. The cellar under the burned glover’s shop in Ashfall stank of wet ash and old leather. A single candle sat on an overturned barrel, and beside it, sat Brannic with a mug of cold tea and a fat book bound in cracked red hide. He did not look like a traitor. He looked like a man who had not slept either.I had come alone. The note pinned under his knife had said so. Cody had begged to follow, and I had ordered him to hold the wall and keep the gate. Now I felt every foot of the dark pressing on my back.“Your note said come alone or not at all,” I said. “So here I am. Explain.”“Sit.” Brannic pushed the book across the barrel. “That is the glover’s ledger. Old Merrin kept it forty years. He died in the fire the night your fa

POV: KADE ASHBORN“Alpha, I remember something. He hummed while he worked the winch. A gentle song, the kind a mother sings over a cradle. I did not want to say it in front of the others. I think it was the one about the little moon.”The young guard lay in the infirmary with his leg in a splint and his face the colour of candle wax. Morning light fell across the bandages. I had come at first bell, stiff from the road, with the glove still burning against my ribs and Brannic’s last words ringing in my head. I had meant to ask about the hooded man’s height or his smell. I had not meant to hear this.I pulled a stool close. “What is your name?”He blinked. “Pell, my lord.”“Pell.” I swallowed. “I did not know it until yesterday. I should have known it the day you took the oath. I am sorry.”“Nobody knows the names of the wall guards, my lord.”“I should.” My voice came out rough. “You took a spear for my gate. Tell me about the song, Pell. Slowly. Hum it if you can.”He licked his dry l

POV: KADE ASHBORN“Sit down, Kade, and drink your tea before it goes cold. You have not slept in two nights, and I will not stand by and watch the last Ashborn fall asleep on his own two feet.”Dorn stood in the door of my study with a steaming cup in his hands and a small tray balanced on his arm. The candles had burned low. Outside, the courtyard was dark and still, and somewhere a night watch was calling the hour. I had spent the evening with Orsin and Cody over a map of the east road, and my mind was a knot of every name I did not want to say.“Thank you, old friend.”“Do not thank me. Drink.” He set the cup in my hand. His fingers brushed mine, quick and narrow and warm. “I made it myself.”The smell reached me before I lifted it. Sweet. Thin. Herbal. A smell I had carried since the courtyard, since the cobbles by the winch. I felt every hair on my arms rise. I held the cup under my chin so he would not see my face, and I breathed in slowly, and I knew.I wanted so badly to be wr

POV: KADE ASHBORN“I have waited all night at this river for a messenger who is never going to come. So come out, old friend. Show me your face, because I think I already know it, and I need to hear you say it.”The ford at Greywater lay black and silver under a pale half moon. I stood at the water’s edge with the snow squeaking under my boots and my breath rising in clouds. Behind me, the reeds hid Orsin’s archers, forty bows strung and waiting. In front of me, the river whispered over its stones, loud in the dark, and the far bank was only shadow.I had waited since dusk. No messenger came. I knew none would.“Kade,” said a soft voice behind me.I turned. Dorn stood twenty paces up the bank, alone, his grey cloak pulled close and his hands folded in front of him. He looked so ordinary that my heart cracked. He might have been out for his evening walk. He might have been about to tell me the horses wanted shoeing.“You came,” I said.“You told me not to.” A small tired smile. “I am a