Novel & Cerita Oblivion Bound Armor

Scorpion froze, his finger inches from the button. Dominic pulled at his tie roughly, loosening it from his neck. With one hand, he yanked it off and tossed it aside. Then he started rolling up the sleeves of his shirt slowly, one after the other Without another word, he began to march down the hallway, Scorpion fell in step behind him, silent, watching carefully. And Amara… she had just touched the door handle. She didn’t know she was being watched.

The scent hadn’t left him. All through drills, all through the council’s chatter, all through the quiet moments where he should have been focusing on Crescent’s needs, it haunted him. Ash. Stone. Iron. Faint, clinging, unnatural in the way it threaded through Liora’s cloak and hair. It wasn’t Crescent. It wasn’t Shadowclaw. It was older. And it had purpose.

He was clad in armour that seemed to be made of moonlight. "My lady," he said, his voice echoing in the vast glass hall. "The war is lost. The Fallen Pantheon approaches. They will take you. They will break the Balance forever." Serelai's heart ached. She could feel the chaos approaching, a storm of hatred and greed that sought to consume all of creation. "I know," she said, her voice the sound of wind chimes and distant thunder. "There is a way," Ashiel said, stepping closer. His eyes burned with a desperate love. "A forbidden way. The Bloodbound Oath. Let me bind my life to yours. Let me be your shield, your strength. My pain for your safety. My life for your eternity."

"But I feel it now. I feel everything. I’m not scared anymore, Anna. I’m just angry." Anna pulled back, nodding solemnly. "Good. Use that anger. We're going to need it." Anna turned toward the center of the room. The 30th had arrived, and with it, the "Jameson" identity dissolved forever. She reached into the air, calling upon the McKinnley inheritance that now flowed through her like a river of molten gold. From the empty air, her battle armor materialized—crafted from dark, enchanted leather and reinforced with Filigree Silver that wouldn't burn her, but would melt any Devonshire who dared touch it.

But my father had forgotten a fundamental rule of biology. Armor is heavy, and the forest belongs to the wolves. The mercenaries were relying on thermal optics to spot our approach. I could hear the faint, high-pitched whine of their targeting lasers sweeping the tree line. But the Unbound’s secondary mutation had completely altered their physiology. The thick plates of quartz growing through their fur acted as perfect thermal insulators. To the mercenaries' scopes, the forest was completely empty. Killian reached the first line of trenches before a single shot was fired.

Fifteen. "Now," I breathed. The response was instantaneous. From the cliffs above, the Unbound didn't shoot arrows; they dropped heavy, spherical canisters of pressurized salt-mist—the only thing that made silver-laced armor brittle. The canisters shattered with a sharp pop, creating a dense, opaque fog that blinded the soldiers. Pandemonium erupted. The soldiers, disoriented and suddenly lacking traction on the slick, salt-coated stone, stumbled. I didn't wait. I surged forward, the silver magic in my blood erupting with a violence I hadn't yet dared to test.

“Look at me. My father calls me a curse. Do you truly believe I possess the power to deceive the entire Adebayo Dominion?” He didn't answer right away. His gaze dropped to the ceremonial battle armor currently strapped to my chest. It was a legendary piece of gear, forged from hardened silver-alloy leather and studded with over four hundred thousand crushed diamond-pearl scales, worth more than five hundred million pack resources. Luna Vivian and Alpha Tade had spent their entire black-market treasury to buy that armor for Amara, intending to cement the ultimate modern werewolf mafia alliance. Instead, because of the ancient laws, their precious heir had to stand in the Alpha Hall and watch

“We are worthy of your punishment!” A splash of icy blue, water-like line crawled in Vladimir’s golden irises, just as his body radiated with raging water. He towered over the crouching Elite. “Then so be it.” Before any of them could draw a breath, a water-like chain linked around their waists. Their screams rented the air as the chain slithered up to their neck. The door blasted open, revealing Xavier, the former king. He was wearing a golden metallic armor engraved with a disturbed lining.