Romans & histoires Brokedown Palace Book

Chapter 36: Rebuilding the Broken The grand halls of the palace, once filled with tension and deceit, were now quiet, the air thick with a sense of cautious hope. The revelation of Lena’s betrayal had left scars on everyone involved, but there was a strange peace beginning to settle, like the calm after a storm. Yet, for all the progress, a deeper wound remained, one that neither time nor actions could easily heal.

The corridors echoed with the silent cries of a man torn between the chains of his past and the oppressive reality of his present. As Bojan continued his narrative, the bond between them grew stronger. Bojan became not just a beggar from Alcides' past but a key to unlocking the secrets that shrouded his lineage. The palace, once a place of servitude, now held the echoes of a mother's sacrifice and a son's quest for truth.

I sat down on the bed and turned the pages slowly, paying attention to the details on each page. After a long search, I got what I was looking for. #### It is rumored that the bedrooms in the palace are created in such a way that the Golden Shifters can be trapped through a simple charm. ##### Damn! That is it. Where is the process of breaking the spell? I turned the pages over and over in the hope of finding something useful. The time was ticking, and here I was browsing through the book. I let out a frustrated scream and threw the book on the bed. I slumped on the floor and buried my head in my hands.

Lorita commented with disgust, which made Gaberalia blood to boil more, she threw her Iphone at the wall in anger, "Don't worry Gaby,we sure get back at her for you and your prince charming will be surely yours",they assured her. He walked briskly into the large hall filled with thousands of books, where the scents of good old and new books will clear your mind and set it focus for excellence. "This Palace of knowledge must have cost a fortune since it well equipped with wide varieties of great books all across the world and it's modernized", he thought to himself and made a quick search of any traces of an over-over size red hood girl as he paced through the huge book shelves.

Then, I headed for the old archives in the basement of the north tower. It was a place no one went. It was dusty, dark, and smelled like rotting paper. It was perfect. I sat on the floor between two rows of heavy wooden shelves and cracked the first bottle. The liquid burned all the way down, making my eyes water, but it helped dull the sound of Elara’s voice in my head. *You blew it.* “I didn't mean to,” I told the empty room. I took another long swig. “He drugged me. How was I supposed to fight that?”

I recoiled, yanking my arm back with such force it caught her off guard. It was exactly what she wanted. She "tripped" over the hem of her silver silk gown, losing her balance and tumbling backward. No one had cleared the shards of the broken wine glass yet. "Ah—!" A sharp cry tore from her throat as she collapsed directly into the mess of glass and spilled blood. Marcus was a blur of motion. He dropped to one knee, ignoring the glass biting into his own skin, and gathered Astoria into his arms. She whimpered, cradling her hand. Shards were embedded deep in her palm; dark red blood oozed through her fingers, painting her white dress in a gruesome smear.

Rebecca. The woman he had loved before my mother blackmailed her way into his empire. The woman he had gone to see in secret while the house burned around us. By seven thirty, the mansion was entirely, deceptively quiet. The crisis team hadn't arrived yet, or perhaps they were already locked in the west wing war room, drowning in the fallout of the high-definition café footage. I pulled on a dark wool trench coat, the collar turned up against the chill, and slipped my phone into my pocket.

Edgar I sank to one knee, pressing a hand to the marble beneath me. The ground felt impossibly cold, like it was trying to swallow everything I’d built,,and everything I’d lost. Smoke curled around the columns, twisting in ribbons, clinging to the banners that were already singed at the edges. The hall smelled of burnt wine and iron and betrayal. It hit me all at once: this was my palace. My life. My rule. And it had just been stripped bare.

When he heard the news, the crystal glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. A violent rush of joy, tangled with regret, struck him all at once. To him, Noah was his only redemption and the last bridge that could reconnect us. Immediately, in the name of the Alpha, he sent an endless procession of gifts. A magnificent gold-trimmed cradle, the softest animal furs, and a dazzling array of jewels and ornaments. The convoy stopped outside my door in grand formation. I didn't go out, and I couldn't even be bothered to look.