SOULBOUND: THE ABYSS WITHIN

Chapter 83: Wrath of the Thunder Daughter

The morning skies over Lafrosa were painted in shades of uneasy blue, but within the vast halls of the Ikemba family estate, a storm far darker brewed behind tightly sealed doors.

Muna Ikemba stood in her private chamber, alone with Ramses.

The Soul Mirror Lens projection hovered before her—a silent, damning sequence unfolding second by second.

She watched everything. Cassandra's room. Mira's forceful assault. Her baby girl's rejection. The defiance. The violation. The kiss. The obsession.

Not once did she blink.

Not once did she breathe.

Not once did she speak.

Until it ended.

Then the room cracked with a sudden burst of black lightning, ripping through the walls like paper. The lens shattered midair. The air turned heavy, oppressive—alive with fury.

Ramses didn't move. He knew better.

Muna's hair sparked at the ends. Her fists clenched. Her eyes glowed with such unrestrained rage that even the porcelain guardians along the corridor outside stepped back.

"She put her hands... on my daughter."

Her voice was calm.

Deadly calm.

Ramses gave a respectful bow, but his tone was measured. "I thought it best you saw the truth yourself. She's crossed every line, Lady Muna."

Muna's boots struck the marble like thunder.

"She's dead," Muna muttered, shoulders trembling. "I'll rip her blue-eyed skull from her neck and paint Lafrosa with her lightning-charred bones."

Ramses said nothing, stepping aside as Muna burst through the chamber doors.

Alarms in the estate activated instantly. Sir Albert appeared within seconds.

"My Lady—"

"Out of my way, Albert."

"You cannot—"

"I will," she snarled, sparks licking her skin. "The Hawthornes protected this madness. Michelle raised that creature. This is no longer politics. It's blood."

"Muna—think. If you act now, the entire Grand Council will—"

"I don't care!" she roared, veins humming with black lightning. "Let the Council send its dogs! Let the Pillars hear my war cry! She laid her filthy hands on Cassandra again—and this time, she'll beg for death."

"Muna."

The voice wasn't Albert's.

It was Marcus Ikemba, her elder brother, appearing behind a veil of ice-laced mist.

His presence dropped the temperature sharply. "Control yourself."

But even he took a guarded step back. Her rage had surpassed reason.

"I don't need control," Muna growled, walking past him. "I need Mira's corpse."

Lightning blasted from her back, erupting skyward in a terrifying arc.

And with that, Muna vanished, a storm incarnate, hurtling straight toward the Hawthorne compound with no political finesse or warning this time.

The last time Muna was this angry, three minor clans were erased from the Soul Registry.

Now… it was a Hawthorne she was coming for.