Diva’s heart pounded against her ribs as she watched Derek tear into Ronan with pure, unrelenting fury.The air around them crackled with energy, the ground trembling beneath the weight of their battle.Derek was lost in it—completely consumed.His movements were brutal, precise.Every strike, every snarl, was laced with years of pent-up rage.Ronan barely had time to react before Derek’s claws slashed across his chest, sending a dark spray of blood into the air.He staggered back, gasping.But Derek didn’t stop.Didn’t hesitate.Didn’t see anything but vengeance.Diva’s breath caught in her throat.This wasn’t just about defeating Ronan.This was destruction.And if Derek kept going—If he gave in to this darkness—He wouldn’t come back from it.Panic clawed at her chest.She had to stop him.Before it was too late.She darted forward, ignoring the danger, ignoring the sharp sting of her own injuries.“Derek!” she called out, her voice desperate, pleading.He didn’t hear her.Didn’t
Diva’s scream ripped through the air, raw and desperate. Derek lay in her arms, unmoving, his skin chilling beneath her touch. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she shook him, panic clawing at her throat. “Derek, wake up!” Her voice cracked. “Please, wake up!” Nothing. His chest didn’t rise. His lips, usually so full of warmth, were pale. A hollow void expanded inside her, swallowing her whole. Ronan’s ragged laughter echoed in the background, taunting, victorious. Diva’s head snapped up, her eyes burning with fury. He was barely holding himself up, blood dripping from the deep wounds Derek had inflicted on him. But he was smiling. That smug, twisted smile. “Did you think,” he rasped, spitting blood, “that love alone could save him?” Diva’s breath hitched. Rage and agony tangled inside her, forming something dangerous. Something deadly. Her body moved on instinct. One second, she was clutching Derek— The next, she was o
Derek ran.He didn’t think—couldn’t think.Diva’s body was limp in his arms, her skin ice-cold. Each shallow breath she took was a reminder of how little time he had left.His heartbeat pounded in his ears, a frantic drum against his ribs. His legs burned, his wounds screamed, but he didn’t stop.Wouldn’t stop.Not when she was slipping away.Behind him, the battlefield was a mess of torn bodies, blood-soaked earth, and dying groans. But Derek didn’t care.Not about Ronan.Not about the war.Nothing mattered except the fragile weight in his arms.He pushed forward, his vision blurring with the sting of sweat and exhaustion. His wolf roared inside him, demanding he do something—anything—to save her.“Stay with me, Diva,” he whispered, barely recognizing his own voice. “Just hold on.”No response.Her head rolled against his chest, her breathing weaker than before.A sharp stab of fear plunged into Derek’s gut.He had faced death a hundred times before—laughed in its face, even.But thi
Derek didn’t let go.Even as Diva’s breathing steadied, even as her fingers curled weakly around his, he held on as if his grip alone could keep her here.The curse was broken. He could feel it—the heavy weight that had bound them, the darkness that had poisoned their bond, it was gone.But she was still so fragile.Her skin was pale, her body trembling from exhaustion. And yet, when her eyes flickered open, she looked at him.Not through him. Not past him.At him.Derek swallowed hard. He had spent so long fighting—against the curse, against Ronan, against everything keeping her from him. Now, here she was. And all he could do was stare.A ghost of a smile touched Diva’s lips. “You look terrible,” she murmured.A breathless laugh left him, something hoarse and broken. “You’re one to talk.”She tried to sit up, but her body refused. A sharp inhale of pain. Derek’s arms shot forward, steadying her before she could fall back.His hands burned where they touched her. Not from pain, but f
The air was thick with silence, heavy and oppressive.Derek's fists were balled at his sides, his knuckles white from the tightness of his grip. His wolf stirred, restless beneath his skin. Ronan was not dead.The thought seared him like a knife to the heart.Diva sat stiffly on the bed, her breathing shaky, her hands curled into fists in the blanket as if anchoring herself. The flush of her cheeks had receded, leaving her pale and tawny-looking, her lips compressed together.Kieran drew a hard breath, breaking the silence. "If Ronan's alive, he's not coming back as a ghost." His voice was low, controlled. But there was tension in his shoulders, a nervousness in his stance that Derek resented.Diva's voice, gentle but authoritative, interrupted the moment. "Then how?"Derek gazed at the dead body of the rogue on the ground. The son of a bitch had died with a smile on his face. That alone made Derek's rage boil."We should have burned him," he snarled, the words venomous.Diva flinched
The air that night was thick with tension.Derek's eyes were fixed on the dark shape standing at the edge of the forest, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to unwind. The sight of Ronan, alive, stirred up a fierce turmoil inside him. His wolf growled, a low, throaty sound that resonated in his chest.Diva was beside him, her breathing in ragged gasps, her fists curled into the wood of the balcony railing. The moon cast a faint light on her face, highlighting the fear in her dilated eyes.Beneath the fear, however,Something else was there.Anger.Ronan didn't move. He simply stood there, looking at them, the same sadistic smile on his mouth. A silent taunt. A promise of destruction.Derek could not abide by it.He turned sharply, storming down the steps, his body humming with adrenaline. His pack warriors had already gathered below, their eyes glowing in the darkness, waiting for his command.Kieran appeared at his side, his voice low but urgent. “Derek, don’t rush into this.”Der
The world was transformed.When Ronan was transformed, the world was reformed.The field of battle, where wolves once ran crimson with blood, was now smaller, stifled by his mere presence. Dark energy tendrils encircled his monstrous form, his colossal frame no longer wolf, but something much more terrifying. His eyes, red-rimmed with an unnatural light, held Derek's gaze.Derek felt it—the strangely power radiating from him, thick as smoke, filling his lungs, clawing at his skin. His instincts screamed at him to flee, to strike, but for the first time in years a flicker of doubt intruded.Diva receded, breathing in harsh spasms. Something was wrong near Ronan, the very fabric of reality seeming to distort.But Derek had no time to hesitate.Ever. Now.With a snarl, he burst forward, claws raking against Ronan's throat.Faster. Leathal. Precise.But Ronan was faster.Much faster.A dark smear—then pain.A brutal blow to the ribs sent Derek crashing.He slammed into the trunk of a tree
The battlefield still smelled of blood. Ash and death clung to the air like a sickness, thick and suffocating. But Derek barely noticed it.His lungs burned, his ribs throbbed, and the deep gash across his chest still leaked blood. But all of that was nothing compared to the storm raging inside him.Ronan was gone.Not dead. Not defeated.Gone.And that terrified him more than anything.Diva stood a few feet away, frozen in place. The way Ronan had looked at her—the way he had spoken—those words clawed at Derek’s mind."So that’s what you are."Derek turned toward her, his breath unsteady. “Diva.”She didn’t answer.She was trembling. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms, but she didn’t seem to notice.Derek reached for her. “Diva, talk to me—”“Don’t,” she whispered. Her voice was raw, broken. “I— I don’t know what just happened.”But she did.Derek could see it in her eyes. She was scared. Of herself.His chest tightened.“Whatever that was, we’ll figure i
Diva's heart thudded in her ears as she sprinted through the broken gate of the devastated courtyard. Dawn light fought through the dark clouds to cast a deserted battlefield strewn in chaos. Wolves—her loyal pack—poured rapidly around her, their eyes blazing with determination, but in their trail, a wire of tension crackled like lightning. Every step echoed with the urgency of a last stand. Abruptly, without precursor, a low, rasping bellow shredded the air. From ruin and wreckage, the foe appeared—faces twisted by shadow and terror. In this instant, Diva seized her sword in white-knuckled resolve. She rushed forward like a flood, fluid and untamed in action. Her cry, tempered from sheer will, rang out, "For the light and for our future!" The voice itself was a vow that the very darkness looming could not consume. Derek, bloody and marred but with the flame of a true Alpha still burning fierce inside him, stood beside her. His battle-worn eyes blazed like a guardian's whenever they c
The eyes of Diva flew wide as war disappeared into heavy silence. She shuddered in released energy everywhere she looked out over Chapter 83's field of war. The walls of the fortress reverberated with the din of old wars, and broken stone at every splintered pillar reverberated with the history of pain and suffering. But here in the heavy stillness, another noise erupted—a thudding, pounding boom out of the depths of darkness. Her own heart boomed like a mad drum as she moved ahead, her bare feet squelching through rain-sodden passage. Memory of betrayal surrounded her, of hope betrayed that still smoldered beneath. For every step there was the wordless cry of rage and fierce hope that had driven her this far.His resolute and confident eyes now sparkled with uncertainty. She could feel the unspoken anguish from his eyes—a mix of frustration and helplessness—as if their mutual burden of fate had finally begun to break him from the pretence. Each spasm of the enemy lurking in the darkne
Diva closed her eyes and breathed. The process was agonizing—a flood of memories, loss, grief, images, and love threatened to overwhelm her. She wept, the anguish running through her like an arrow. With each tear she wept, something else retreated into hiding. Finally, her heart and spirit opened to show a seething, raw energy that ran through her, full to brimming from the depths within. As she opened her eyes, they glowed with focus and determination. "I am ready to fight for our future," she murmured. As if on cue, the war horns of the enemy rang in the distance. The pack was getting ready to make one final push. Time was short. Diva stepped into the room, moving with slow determination. Derek stood waiting, his gaze sweeping hers with a silent vow and a fear. For a moment, as the initial light of morning sliced through darkness, their union stood whole and unbroken amidst all the earlier trials. "Both of us," Derek whispered, voice soft and obstinate. "Together," she repeated once
Diva's heels pounded the wet road as she rushed down the winding corridors of the citadel. The bewildering events of last night still echoed with every inhalation. She was driven by bitter betrayal and fear of an uncertain tomorrow. Chapter 81's cryptic warning haunted her—the ominous warning that success earned with blood and toil was vulnerable and shadows clung only at an arm's distance. Behind her, the ferocity of battle receded into the distant, persistent hum—a reminder that there were still threats out there, waiting just beyond reach. Her heart racing in her chest, she gripped her sword tightly, every step the result of raw desperation. The pack had regrouped after the last attack, but suspicion and wariness seethed beneath their hides. Every wolf's eye showed the tension, the underlying fear of the unseen threat. Diva's mind remembered Derek's wretched, desperate face as he had promised to live. His heart-rending voice which had once given them a future now was besmirched
She looked at Derek. His own eyes, still burning with determination even though he was hurt, reflected her own horror and shock. They both felt that moment of wordless comprehension that every second now counted.The stranger went on, "Three days from now, judgment will be upon you. Until then, you need to prepare and gather your spread light. Only thus can you try to overcome the darkness that will cover you.".Diva's brain went haywire. Three days. The countdown has begun. Each second was a precious, clockwork moment that could rescue her or nothing. Her heart thumped with adrenaline and utter terror. "And what is your price?" she snarled, voice steady over the tempest raging within her.The stranger's eyes clenched and he gave no swift reply. He extended his hand—a gesture in silence full of potential and threat. The air was charged with tension.Diva hesitated, hand hanging between the palmar calluses of destiny and trembling skin. She knew that to take it would reverse everything
The beat of Diva's heart was a war drum pounding as she led the pack into the ruined courtyard of the stronghold. The sunrise on the horizon-painted with red and gold—a bitter reminder that even a morning plucked from the darkness had horrors yet Chapterunimagined. Every step a battle cry, every breath a challenge of the shadows that would consume them.Diva's gaze scanned the horizon, where morning's earliest light and smoke from burning fires were combined. The enemy was advancing again. From that chaos, the Void awoke from slumber—its strength always on standby, devouring at her whim. She gripped her sword firmly, with brute strength flowing through her, a skill she'd had pounded into her veins and given.By her side, Derek strode with desperate circumspection, his gold eyes blazed hot though welts on his battered frame testified to a struggle of another sort. His hand is still fast around hers, a promise that they should never be parted, no matter what. They had fought for this fl
Diva paused in the doorway of an enormous room. The ground was strewn with shards of broken mirror, each with partial reflections of the past—a past of love, loss, and endless struggle. In the center of the room, balanced atop a pedestal, sat a glowing fragment of mirror. Its beam was peaceful, nearing in upon her.Varin invited them in. "That is the Fragment of Light," he said to them. "It holds in it the promise of rebirth, but at a price. To claim it, you have to let go of that which binds you to your sorrow."Diva's stomach pulled in. Every memory, every sob, every whispered promise was hers. To let it go…was like erasing her very being.She looked at Derek. His eyes silently pleaded with her—a mix of love and sadness that nearly shattered her determination.She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing a jagged breath. When she opened them again, they burned with a fierce resolve. "I choose our future," she whispered. "Not the pain of the past."A brilliant light poured out of the sh
Diva's heart thrummed as she sprinted down the stronghold stone corridor. Every step echoed like a rebellious drumbeat. Wind sliced across her cheek, mixed with the foam and purpose. Before her lay the dark threat beating like a living shadow; behind her lay the pack's warriors in a wall of growls and biding talons.Derek charged at her side, his golden eyes afire with a fierce determination that belied his battered body. His eyes, usually steady and reassuring, now blazed with urgency. During the fleeting interludes between battles, their eyes spoke all that needed saying—a silent vow to hold on, to fight on, no matter the cost.The enemy was no longer dark threat. Mutters had evolved to bellowing. The Void—the hoary, amorphous monster described in halcyon recollection of old myth—came into being. Its presence squeezed against the ramparts of the fortress like a hug of vengeful haze, distorting reality in fiendish, chaotic ways.A slam from the outside wall jarred the fortress brutal
Diva's heart pounded against her ribcage as she sprinted down the fortress corridor, blinded by the black-outs. Every step a frantic trot through the silence of the aftermath. The devastation of the previous day's battle—scorched dirt and acrid shreds of broken vows—remained etched on the walls. Every burst of torchlight made her jump, every figure vanishing into the shadows reminded her of decisions now weighing on her conscience.She gripped her side where the bruise pulsed with pain, but not pain that hindered her—it was betrayal, the cold sting of doubt in her veins. Her mind whirled back to Caelan's words moments before, a poisonous truth that questioned her who she was. Even as the pack bayed her name in triumph, she felt a void gnawing in her chest, as if something was ripped away from her.Derek's dark form emerged from the corridor down the hall. His gait was uneven; each step a tell-tale for a man fighting the battle against fatigue and hidden grief. When his gaze met hers,