Brothers In Arms: Earned In Blood นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"You couldn’t have known Alpha Gold was going to deceive you. Even if you had been there… you can’t protect everyone, Vanda. Draven warriors will always fight, and there will always be names on that list." His fists tighten for a brief moment before relaxing again. "I let myself be fooled by Bryan," he mutters. "I should have known better. There are no true allies in this war, yet I let myself believe otherwise." I shift, kneeling beside him so I can see his face more clearly. "But Bryan isn’t just another Alpha. He was your brother-by-bond. You had every reason to trust him."

He grabbed a knife. A scream ripped from Marcus's throat as Luther sliced off two of his fingers. I squeezed my eyes shut, There' was this bitter taste rising in my throat.. The coppery smell of blood grew stronger, and the scream echoed in my head Luther wasn't buying it. "Now, I'm gonna help you say your final goodbyes to your brother." He grabbed the gun, the cold metal shining faintly in the dark. He pulled back the hammer. The click echoed, sharp and final..

Crimson blood scattered on the ground and Amara's painful scream rang in the air, its echo resounding in the desolate silence. Her face turned pale and a few drops of blood landed on her face, tainting her skin with crimson. Her tear-filled gaze locked onto Killian, his jaw was clenched tightly as he held his arm. His right arm was relentlessly bleeding where the bullet had found its mark, piercing through his skin brutally.

Elnora had screamed over the roar of automatic gunfire. Robbin remembered the sight of the leader. He had been shouting orders, his face twisted in a mask of cowardice as he tried to use his own men as human shields. The man who had sold her body, who had broken her spirit for two years, was later reduced to a heap of expensive leather and wasted ambition on the streets. In the vacuum of his death, the gang dissolved. Men who had called each other "brothers" shot each other over a way out.

His little brother jumps in excitement as he runs his hand on his hair, disheveling it. Amalia and her mum sat under the shelter in the yard, and Amalia place the guitar on the table, Mrs. Bella wondered what she was doing with it...little did she know, that her adorable daughter could play and sing beautifully..." mum, I going to sing you a song" She informs bringing out the guitar from the bag, Mrs. Bella was surprised yet happy she was going to sing for her...On the other hand, Ethan was watching at the corner, not wanting to spoil the mother and daughter fun moment...She plays on the guitar for a little while, testing it out..." I will be singing you a song titled 'Arms' by Christina Per

I didn’t need a blueprint. I just needed to follow the sound of the hearts I was protecting. THE END OF BLOOD AND BETRAYAL

He reached out, his hand stopping just short of touching his brother’s shoulder, as if he were made of glass. “Yeah, Liam,” Kaelan whispered, his own voice breaking. “You won. The game’s over. You won.” Liam’s eyes drifted shut again, a faint, pained semblance of peace smoothing his brow before he slipped back into sleep. Kaelan stood frozen, his hand still suspended in the air. He looked utterly destroyed. Elara moved to his side, not touching him, just standing in solidarity before the devastating evidence of their legacy.

Brotherhood. We moved without speaking. Without planning. Our bodies remembered what our minds had tried to forget. We had fought together for years, moving in perfect synchronization, each anticipating where the other would be, what the other needed. I cleared the hallway on the left. Alexei took the right. We dropped attackers with brutal efficiency. For the first time in months, we were not enemies. We were brothers. But there were too many. The Romano had brought an army. For every man we killed, two more appeared. They were flooding into the compound from multiple entry points, overwhelming our defenses through sheer numbers.

Their fingers didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to. Her green eyes locked with his. And for the first time in years, she asked the question that had haunted her since she was a child. “How are you alive, Erec?” The words landed like a stone between them. Erec’s face tightened, guilt pressing through the lines time had carved into his skin. He looked down. Then back at her. “I was on the front lines when the fire happened,” he began. “The letter came three days after. From Father. His handwriting. His seal.”