Redo Of Heler の小説・ストーリー

A large map of the Great Divide lay unrolled across a heavy slab of polished basalt, held down at the corners by brass compasses and steel weights. I stood over the map, tracing the dark ink line that marked the northernmost border of the old High Council territories. My fingers, steady and free of the nervous tremors that once defined the crucible days, paused at the Red Pass. Beneath my fitted leather doublet, the quiet warmth of my hybrid core hummed with a smooth, unhurried cadence—a living anchor that made the biting mountain draft feel like nothing more than a passing whisper.

For a while, silence settled between us. Awkward silence. Helter did not seem fully comfortable being alone with me either. “I see you became friends with Rejin,” he said eventually. That made me smile faintly. “Yes. I like her.” Helter chuckled quietly. “She is a good person.” Then he leaned back slightly, watching the massive training grounds below us. Hundreds of warriors sparred across the field. Some in human form. Others partially shifted. The growls and impacts echoed constantly through the air. “But she is also a complete headache,” Helter added.

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It was Ryan and his presence. Ever since she visited that place, she had been having constant deja vu of herself with Ryan. Like the ones she used to have before, once in awhile but ever since they came back, it had intensified. Sarah had supported her idea as well. It wasn't Sarah's support, however. It was Helo's plan. A plan to redo history but this time he planned to do it right and reclaim his lost glory. His evil plan had already started growing from the seed that he had implanted.

Keenan snapped, pulling her away from Denzel and I. My mate groaned in my arms, his face contorted with pain. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I held him closer, willing my energy to fix him. Three healers hurried in, their eyes wide with panic. They all knelt around me, holding out their hands to their king. White tendrils of magic left their hands and entered the wound in Denzel's chest, mending the torn flesh. "You must know something too. What was he talking about? Why would my father sell me off to the vampires? Huh? Why?!" Estella said to Keenan, who glared at her, his eyes darkening.

The raw ache within me is soothed, my spirit whispering this was always meant to be—two halves made whole, never again to know solitude. As we reach our peak together, clinging tight, Adam's vow echoes in my mind—that we will stand as one against the darkness. Our reunion has reforged the bond between us, now unbreakable for the trials left to come. But whatever fate awaits, in this moment all is as it should be: Alpha and Healer, male and female, lovers bound for life. The end is not yet written. Our story has just begun.

He returned and Hamed felt pain, helplessness and weakness, unable to stand, so how would he return to the island, he needs blood and as soon as possible, as his wounds will not heal without blood. The blood they put into his body through a vein and what he drank last night must have helped him to survive, but his body will consume it in record time and return to need more as soon as possible. “I can call your family and tell them where you are if you want. “I asked him, bringing him back to his reality, and he turned to her, watching her carefully, a little girl with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, a nice figure like Eva, his features frown, brows furrowing, thinking of Eva, his parents and th

"I'm just a healer. An omega." The labels I had accepted, the boundaries of the identity I had built for myself — all of it suddenly felt like a lie. Or at best, a partial truth. "No," Ren said. "You're not just a healer. You're the first of a lost bloodline. And the Alpha who rejected you may have just doomed himself." I looked up sharply. "What?" Kael. The unshakeable, cold, perfect Alpha of our pack. The wolf who had looked at me with such disdain, such certainty that I was beneath him.

A deep, jagged trench had been torn across my left deltoid, courtesy of a stray piece of twisted metal during the collision. The hot water hit the exposed muscle. It stung sharply, but the pain was instantly eclipsed by the aggressive, terrifying burn of my Alpha healing factor. I squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth against the sensation. My accelerated cellular regeneration was not a passive, comfortable process. It was a violent, biological demand. Deep beneath the skin, damaged capillaries sealed themselves shut. Torn muscle fibers seized and pulled together, vibrating with a high-pitched, localized heat that felt like a swarm of fire ants burying themselves in my flesh. The skin beg