Lahat ng Kabanata ng Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden: Kabanata 171 - Kabanata 180

The Nyxorian night was thick with fog, a veil of pale grey mist that coiled around the castle like a silent predator. Zina slipped out through a narrow corridor tucked behind the western wing—a forgotten passage, known only to a few, and now serving as her escape route from shame. Her cloak was drawn tight across her shoulders, the edges damp with dew, but the bitter wind that sliced through the air could not cool the fury rising in her blood. Her boots struck the stone path with clipped determination, and with each step away from the looming towers behind her, the castle felt less like a sanctuary and more like a wound she needed to flee. Not for fear, Zina did not fear, but for the searing humiliation that still echoed in her bones. Ivone. That name alone soured the air in her lungs. That woman had dared to walk into her world, to claim space beside her Alpha, and Reyes had let her. He welcomed her. By the time Zina reached the house, a cold manor nestled in the rolling shadows o

Rhea’s face hardened like cooling stone. With a gentle yet firm touch, she reached out and tilted Zina's chin, lifting it so her daughter couldn’t look away, forcing their eyes to meet in a moment of unflinching intensity.“You become colder,” she said. “Smarter. You learn to temper your emotions, to think clearly, don’t let your anger lead you, instead let it fuel you. If she’s a threat, then study her, stay close and pretend to be an ally. Sharpen the blade behind her back, wait for the perfect moment, then strike with calculated precision, not out of rage."Zina's eyes locked onto her mother's, her breath catching in her throat as the fire from the hearth casting flickering shadows across both their faces. The dancing flames behind Rhea seemed like a ghostly crown with an otherworldly aura, highlighting the sharp lines of her face, the cold calculating glint in her gaze."And what if the opportunity never comes?” Zina asked quietly, her voice thin but laced with raw honesty. “What

Zina said nothing for a moment, her silence oppressive, her body language screaming tension. Her throat was tight, her chest heaving with the barely restrained frustration of a predator caged too long, heavy with the effort of controlling her emotions. She nodded once, slowly, her fists tightening at her sides until her knuckles turned white, her arms rigid with tension. “Fine,” she said hoarsely, her voice low and menacing. “But I’m not sitting idly by while she walks around in my place.”Rhea’s gaze narrowed, her eyes flashing with a mixture of concern and warning. “Zina…” she began, her voice soft but cautionary, but her daughter was already stepping back toward the door. She had her chin lifted high, her body language a portrait of wounded pride and simmering resentment, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination. Her eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire, her jaw set in a determined line. Rhea's words died on her lips as she watched her daughter's retreating form. “I’ll be

Ivone stepped out of her chambers with her hair still damp, the soft scent of lavender clinging faintly to her skin. The hall outside was quiet, lit by the soft flicker of lanterns mounted on dark stone walls. A guard down the corridor glanced up but made no move to stop her—either instructed not to or simply too wary of interfering. She walked slowly, letting her fingers brush the cool stone as she turned each corner. This castle, Nyxoria, was colder than Elyria in more ways than one, but its grandeur was undeniable. Every corridor whispered secrets, every carving seemed to watch. Then she saw it, an open door, left just slightly ajar. Curious, Ivone stepped closer and pushed the heavy oak door open farther. What greeted her stole the breath from her lungs. It was a library. A vast, magnificent one. The air smelled of old parchment and polished wood, mingled with the faintest hint of ink. High above her head, shelves climbed toward an arched ceiling painted with faded constellation

Her scent—familiar, haunting, maddening—hit him like a blow to the chest. Reyes’s muscles tensed instinctively, his breath catching as the wolf inside him surged forward without warning. That raw, primal instinct that had haunted him since the incidence in the forest, flared like wildfire in his veins. “Ivone,” he growled, more animal than man now. She paused at the other table but didn’t turn. Reyes took a slow step forward, barely able to rein in the heat rising beneath his skin. “Do you even know what your scent does to me?” he asked, voice low and harsh. “It’s like you carry a piece of something I’ve been searching for my whole life—and every time you’re near, it gets harder to stay civil.” Ivone glanced back at him, her expression cool but her pulse racing. “Then I suggest you stay far away from me, Reyes,” she said softly. “Because you’re not the only one who’s starting to see things more clearly.” A low growl emanated from his belly and out his mouth through gritted teeth.