Novels by Lune Blood

*Capitulo Cinco* The first rays of dawn spilled through the rose-patterned curtains of the Rosewood mansion, tinting Allistair’s room in soft gold. The roses etched into his bedposts caught the light, glowing faintly as if mocking the restless night he endured. His body was still warm, skin tingling with phantom touches that he refused to acknowledge. His eyes blinked open, lashes damp, throat dry. He sat up slowly, pulling the blanket close to his bare chest. For a moment, he thought it had been just another dream—like so many before, where faceless phantoms consumed him in fire and roses. But this time, his lips were swollen, his neck throbbed with heat, and his wrists carried the faint bruising imprint of golden shackles. Allistair’s breath hitched. It wasn’t a dream… it was him. He pressed his fingers to the mark Samael had bitten. It still pulsed, not healing under his father’s power, shimmering faintly with a forbidden bond. Shame coursed through him. His body remembered eve

*Capítulo Cuatro*The grand hall had fallen silent. The flames of the moon goddess, which moments ago had raged like a storm, flickered back to their natural glow. Strangely, the devastation spared the people. Only the walls, the gilded pillars, the furniture-the very bones of the hall-had been scarred and blackened. All except Samael. His flesh had been burnt, torn open, bleeding freely. And yet, as though mocking the gods themselves, he healed within seconds. His body was whole again, but the taste of blood-Allistair's blood-still lingered on his tongue.The nobles and elites, shaken yet alive, exhaled sighs of relief. Their murmurs rose like uneasy ripples, a tide of fearful speculation and hushed prayers. The king, eyes glinting with restrained fury, dismissed them all with a wave of his hand, leaving only himself and his most trusted friends in the vast and broken hall that was now fixed by him.Caius was the first to speak, his sharp voice cutting through the heavy silence."You

*Capitulo Tres*Allistair's body slammed against the stone wall with a sickening crack, the shock shuddering through his bones, reverberating in his ribs. Pain flared, sharp and immediate, yet he refused to flinch. His golden eyes—those eyes that always carried the quiet defiance of someone born from both moonlight and flame—blazed brighter. He shoved Samael back with a feral snarl, teeth flashing, chest rising and falling like a cornered wolf refusing to bow. The air thickened around them, heavy with blood, fury, and something darker—something neither could name, though both felt clawing under their skins.Samael's lips curled into a dangerous smirk, but his beast, Lucan, was not so composed. Inside him, the creature roared and paced, agitated by the scent that clung to Allistair like a cruel temptation. It wasn't merely blood. It was something sharper, sweeter—like the promise of power laced with sin. His restraint frayed, thread by thread. His claws twitched as though desperate to

*Capitulo Dos*The grand banquet hall of Casa DelFierro shimmered with opulence. Velvet drapes in deep hues of crimson and gold adorned the walls, while crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden light over the gathering. The aroma of gourmet dishes and the sweet scent of exotic flowers created an atmosphere of luxury and indulgence.Allistair entered the hall with his family by his side. His father, Alexander Vaughn Fretzellis-Rosewood, led the way, his dark suit accentuating his commanding presence. Raine Lune Rosewood-Fretzellis walked beside him in a white suit, his calm demeanor contrasting with the grandeur of the setting. Allex Xaine Fretzellis followed, her golden-streaked hair and confident stride drawing attention.As they approached the king’s table, Allistair’s eyes locked with King Samael Lucian DelFierro. Samael, resplendent in a deep crimson suit and golden crown, commanded the hall like a storm given flesh. When their gazes collided, sparks of fury lit the air, the tensio

*Capitulo Uno*The bed hung suspended in the void, its frame forged of ancient gold, carved with symbols that seems to pulse with a celestial glow, yet every curve and carved line whispered of corruption—wings stretched across the headboard, angelic in shape but fractured, twisted, their edges sharpened like blades. The gilded frame carried the majesty of a divine godly throne. Deep crimson silk like sheets with silvery glow adorned it. The bed swayed gently as if mocking the carnage below. Fire roared and spat, devouring the darkness, its glow illuminating rivers of blood that pooled around dismembered corpses scattered everywhere like discarded offerings. The stench of scorched flesh clawed at the air, mingling with the metallic scent of blood and the smoke of the flames.When Allistair's eyes fluttered open, this is the scene that welcomed him, and he found himself on this very bed—naked, vulnerable, his pale skin glowed with the reflection of firelight. His wrists and feet were sh