เข้าสู่ระบบRyu's POVThe weight of silence pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud as I stood alone in the shadowed room, my breath shallow, my heart pounding against my ribs like a frantic drum. My mind was a storm of paranoia and desperation, swirling uncontrollably.My pack was bleeding from wounds no one else saw—wounds inflicted by betrayal, weakness, and my own mistakes.I had lost too many.My assistants, once loyal, were now liabilities. I had no choice but to sever those ties, cold and ruthless, because trust was a currency I could no longer afford.I needed someone who understood me, someone who could stand strong beside me when the darkness closed in.Samantha was the only one left in my fractured world. My Luna. My hope.The decision burned in my chest with a fierce clarity. She was the key to everything—the salvation of my pack, the strength I lacked. Bringing her back wasn’t just a plan; it was a necessity carved from the depths of my desperation. I had to save her, no matte
The courtroom reeked of blood-soaked power and silent betrayals. Thick stone walls rose around me like a cage designed not just to hold a body, but to crush a soul. The silver shackles burned against my skin, branding me a traitor, a killer, a Luna Slayer.I was forced to kneel before the throne-like benches of the Elder Council, my bones grinding against the cold marble floor while the echo of ancient chants still clung to the ceilings. A thousand pairs of eyes bore down on me—some with hatred, some with curiosity, but none with mercy. I was no longer a princess of bloodlines, nor a Luna of destiny. In their eyes, I was nothing more than a condemned wolf waiting to be put down. And yet, I did not weep. I did not beg. I lifted my chin as my knees trembled, refusing to give them the pleasure of watching me break.Above me, the Elders perched like vultures circling a dying beast, their expressions carved from centuries of judgment and political games. Their long robes swept the groun
The passage was narrower than I expected. Cold and damp, the air stank of rust, sweat, and old blood. My fingers brushed against the rough stone walls as I followed the jagged path illuminated only by the dim flicker of a dying torch I’d swiped from the western corridor. The martyr’s map burned faintly against my palm, a magical artifact etched in shimmering ink—written with the blood of those who had died trying to escape. Their final wish now guided me.I couldn’t stop moving. Every heartbeat was a countdown. Every footstep, a risk.“I can do this,” I whispered to myself, repeating the lie until it sounded true.The underground tunnels twisted beneath the prison like a coiled serpent, riddled with traps and dead ends. I made every turn according to the blood-bound markings, careful not to make noise. Above, guards’ boots echoed faintly, unaware—or so I hopped—of the rat weaving through their foundations.Then I heard it.A click.Instinct screamed. I threw myself sideways just
The walls felt like they were closing in on me, and I knew that it wasn’t just the confinement that suffocated me—it was the crushing weight of truth that I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried. Fifty-seven days. Fifty-seven days of being trapped, not just in this stone cell, but in the shadow of a truth I didn’t want to confront. The air, thick and stale, smelled of dust and regret, but there was something else now—a charge, like the quiet before a storm. The hairs on my neck stood on end, and the space seemed to pulse with a low, steady hum. My senses had sharpened. The taste of the air felt sharper, the sounds of distant footsteps more pronounced, and there, deep in my bones, I could feel it—the slow rise of something ancient, something that had been dormant for too long. I wasn’t the same as I had been before.I wasn’t just surviving anymore.I was changing, and though I hadn’t yet fully understood it, I knew this change wasn’t one I could turn back from.The map lay i
I woke early, the cold steel of the cot pressing against my back as I shifted in my sleep. But sleep hadn’t truly come last night. Not with the voice echoing through my mind like a phantom haunting my every thought. It wasn’t like any voice I had heard before, and yet it felt so familiar. A cold, detached whisper that lingered, vibrating through my soul. "I know who you are." The words had rolled through me, chilling my very core, leaving me unable to grasp their full meaning. I wasn’t sure if it was real or if it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but it felt as if something much deeper was at play. Something far more dangerous than I could even imagine.My fingers brushed my forehead as I sat up slowly. The stale prison air was thick with the scent of sweat and metal. My hands trembled slightly, still feeling the lingering echoes of the voice. A chill ran down my spine, and I stood, taking a shaky breath to steady myself. The world outside my cell felt strangely distant to
The morning light filtered weakly through the small barred window above my cell, casting long shadows against the cold stone floor. The world outside the prison walls felt so distant, as if it belonged to a different life, a different version of myself. I was no longer sure who I was anymore. After everything that had been revealed—the prophecy, my true heritage—I felt as though I was drowning in a sea of secrets and lies. I wasn’t just any prisoner. I was a hybrid. The key to stopping my father. But the weight of that truth felt like an anchor pulling me deeper into the darkness. How could I possibly fight the very man who had destroyed everything I knew? I sat up slowly, my hands trembling slightly as I touched the crescent mark that glowed faintly behind my ear. This is who I am, I reminded myself. But even as I thought it, doubt gnawed at my insides. Am I strong enough?The day felt long and oppressive, filled with the kind of silence that echoed in my ears. I walked across t







