Unscramble Lineage 소설 & 이야기

The last of Marco's illusions shattered completely. Don Vincenzo rose slowly. He walked around the desk and stopped before Marco. "You lived off the Family. You enjoyed the Family's protection. Yet in the end, you brought wolves to our door and let them wound your own kin." His voice echoed through the silent study, each word forged through blood and fire. "For the Family, betrayal is the only unforgivable sin. There is no trial. Only an end." Don Vincenzo did not use a gun. Guns were for enemies.

Every word replayed in my skull, relentlessly tolling like a funeral bell that refused to fade. Aeryna's blood lived in her. That single truth seared through me. The very bloodline Elyndra's collapse had sought to erase. The lineage history itself conspired to bury. The line Lycans... my ancestors once hunted with a kind of rabid desperation, seeking to rid themselves of the matebond curse. My people.

"She recognized it. The way you recognize a sound you've heard in a nightmare before you're fully awake." Lirien looked at me for a long moment. Then she leaned forward. "The Unmaking is old," she said. "Older than the kingdoms. Older than the packs. Built by the original enemies of the First Moon bloodline during a war that predates everything you know about supernatural history." Her voice dropped lower. "It is not a poison. Not a spell. Not anything you can guard against with warriors or walls or locked doors." "Then what is it?" "A curse," she replied. "Designed to travel through the one thing no living creature can defend against, by the one who has been given back their name."

"Is there anything else? Anything you remember about the letters, the contact, the operation?" She was quiet for a long moment. "Once," she said. "One of the letters—Pereth left it out. Careless. I read it." She looked at her hands. "It referenced a name. Not a person's name. A—a category. A type of target. Something about monitoring for what it called the *latent lineage*. Watching for signs of it emerging in the girl." She met his eyes. "At the time I didn't know what that meant. I thought it was Pereth's contact being precious about language. But it's been sitting in my mind ever since, and I think—"

“Okay, I’m going to need you to be less cryptic.” Elara inclined her head slightly, like that was fair. “There are bloodlines,” she began, “older than the systems you understand. Older than packs, kingdoms,even the structures that govern them now.” Sage’s frown deepened. “You’re talking about wolves.” “I’m talking about origins,” Elara corrected. “What came before wolves became what they are now.”That didn’t make it clearer. If anything, it made it worse. Sage shook her head slightly. “I don’t-”

He tugged free a rusted lockbox and cracked it open. Inside—medical charts, embryology data, photos of infants with tags marked “Subject A-7,” “Subject A-9”… and one tagged “A-10: Bailey.” Bailey staggered back. “What is this?” Callum read aloud, “They were trying to create a new lineage. Using Wolfe’s DNA… and something else. Artificial sequencing. Bailey, you weren’t just born. You were built.” "What?" Bailey screamed. Just then, a sound echoed behind them.

"Isara gave a copy of her record to Orah's grandmother." My father was very still for a moment. "A third copy," he said slowly. "She prepared three lines of preservation. The direct bloodline. The secondary line. And a non-bloodline keeper — someone trusted to hold the knowledge and use it well without carrying the specific responsibilities of the bloodline itself." He looked at the ceiling. "She also prepared for the possibility that both bloodlines would fail or be compromised. She built a completely independent line of preservation that operated entirely outside the biological structure." "She built redundancies within redundancies," I said.

Edmund sat down opposite me, while Ashton remained standing. “There are four royal lines spread throughout Europe. The oldest family is yours. The second family is the Archambeau line, the third family is the Conrad line, and the fourth family is the Anselm line. The St. Claire line ruled in Scotland, and the Archambeau line still rules in France. The Conrad line rules in Germany, and the Anselm line rules in Denmark,” Edmund said. “My insanity comment hasn’t changed,” I said. Edmund regarded me carefully. Royal families? This man was delusional, and he was really convinced that I was this prince he was looking for. I could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Control is survival.” Damon stepped closer. “What does rewriting lineage mean?” “It means,” Cassian said softly, “that I can remove Alpha dominance from your line. Permanently.” Lucian inhaled sharply. Damon’s voice turned low. “And replace it with what?” “With obedience.” The word landed like a slap. Damon felt rage rise in his blood. “You want a generation that bows to you.” “I want a generation that does not destroy itself with pride,” Cassian corrected.