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231. Coronation Gambit
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2025-06-17 08:00:56|| Lilac’s POV ||
The invitation lay heavy in my hands, its silver-edged parchment catching the afternoon light. I traced the embossed Nightshade crest, that familiar twisting vine encircling a crescent moon, feeling the weight of centuries in its design. "To honor the new era," it proclaimed in Alaric's bold script. I knew what he wasn't saying. This wasn't just a celebration. It was a trap dressed in silk and champagne. The fire crackled as I studied the guest list again. Every noble house. Every allied pack. Marcus leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "He's really doing it then? The full Nightshade reveal?" I nodded, folding the parchment with deliberate care. "After three hundred years in the shadows, it's time." He sighed, "But the risk-" "Is calculated." I met his worried gaze. "The rogues are scattered. The witch strongholds burned. What better time to lure out whoever's left?" The truth sat unspoken between us.
Bab terbaru
His Abandoned Luna 235. The Chaos
|| Lilac’s POV || The moment Alaric's teeth left my neck, the world erupted into chaos. "The game has begun," Alaric murmured against my skin, his breath hot where he'd just marked me. I smiled, tasting the metallic tang of my own blood on my lips. "Yes." A scream ripped through the hall as one of the serving girls' faces began to melt, her delicate features sloughing away to reveal the withered visage of a crone beneath. The scent of rotting herbs and burnt magic flooded the air. Warriors moved like shadows— those who knew the plan falling into formation, while others stood frozen in shock. Alaric shifted beside me in a blur as he moved like lightning. The witch barely had time to raise her hands before Alaric's claws tore through her chest, black blood spraying across the marble floors. "Stand still, Luna," Elizabeth ordered, her sword drawn as she and Marcus formed a protective circle around me. "Nothing gets past us." I nodded, my fingers
His Abandoned Luna 234. King's Mark
|| Lilac’s POV ||The grand hall fell into a hushed silence as Alpha King Darius rose from his throne, the ancient silver crown of the realm glinting under the chandeliers. Every eye followed his slow, deliberate steps toward the center of the dais where Alaric stood tall, regal, and utterly devastating in his Nightshade armor."Tonight," Darius's voice boomed through the hall, "we restore what was stolen centuries ago."A murmur rippled through the crowd. I caught Ezra's wide-eyed stare from where he stood beside our parents, his new Royal Beta insignia gleaming on his chest.Darius lifted a black-velvet pillow from a waiting attendant, revealing a crown unlike any I'd ever seen— twisted obsidian and silver, shaped like intertwined wolves, their eyes set with glowing moonstones."Kneel, Alpha of the Nightshades."The command sent a shiver down my spine. Alaric obeyed, dropping to one knee with a grace that spoke of both power and reverence.
His Abandoned Luna 232. Silk and Shadows
|| Lilac’s POV ||The coral pink gown spilled across my bed like liquid sunrise, its delicate embroidery catching the afternoon light. I ran my fingers over the intricate silver threads woven into the bodice - tiny crescent moons and vines that mirrored the Nightshade crest. Alaric had chosen well. This wasn't just a dress; it was armor.I held it against myself before the mirror, watching how the silk shimmered with every breath. In three days, I would wear this when Alaric claimed his throne. When the Nightshades emerged from the shadows at last.A knock interrupted my thoughts."Luna?" Endora slipped inside, her healer's robes smelling of dried herbs and something faintly metallic. Her eyes softened as they landed on the gown. "It's stunning.""Alaric had it made," I said, unable to suppress my smile. "For the coronation."&
His Abandoned Luna 233. Moonlight and Silk
|| Lilac’s POV || The grand hall of Reventhorn Castle shimmered like a living jewel box, thousands of candles suspended in midair by some ancient enchantment casting golden light over the sea of silks and polished armor. My coral peach gown rippled like liquid sunset with every breath I took, the silver embroidery catching the light in ways that made the floral patterns seem to bloom and wither with each step. That thought alone sent warmth curling through my stomach as I smoothed a hand over the delicate fabric. He'd recalled my idle comment last summer about how the peach orchards near the border reminded me of sunrise after a long night. Now here I stood, draped in that very hue, while he— "Lilac!" Mom's voice snapped me from my thoughts. She floated toward me in a gown of emerald green, Dad's arm looped protectively through hers. Behind them, Ezra stood uncharacteristically still in his formal blacks, the silver fastenings gleaming like stars against the
His Abandoned Luna 231. Coronation Gambit
|| Lilac’s POV || The invitation lay heavy in my hands, its silver-edged parchment catching the afternoon light. I traced the embossed Nightshade crest, that familiar twisting vine encircling a crescent moon, feeling the weight of centuries in its design. "To honor the new era," it proclaimed in Alaric's bold script. I knew what he wasn't saying. This wasn't just a celebration. It was a trap dressed in silk and champagne. The fire crackled as I studied the guest list again. Every noble house. Every allied pack. Marcus leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "He's really doing it then? The full Nightshade reveal?" I nodded, folding the parchment with deliberate care. "After three hundred years in the shadows, it's time." He sighed, "But the risk-" "Is calculated." I met his worried gaze. "The rogues are scattered. The witch strongholds burned. What better time to lure out whoever's left?" The truth sat unspoken between us.
His Abandoned Luna 230. Carry You Home
|| Lilac’s POV || Alaric didn’t speak as he lifted me into his arms, his grip firm yet reverent, as if I were something fragile and sacred all at once. The moment his chest pressed against mine, the dam inside me cracked. Tears I’d held back for weeks spilled over, soaking into the fabric of his torn shirt. He smelled of pine and blood and exhaustion, but beneath it all— home. His arms tightened around me as he carried me through the silent halls, his heartbeat a steady drum against my ear. The packhouse faded behind us, the night air cool against my heated skin. "You’re shaking," he murmured into my hair. I curled my fingers into his collar. "I thought you would never come back." His steps faltered. A ragged breath escaped him, his voice rough as gravel. "I will always come back to you." The door to our house creaked open, the scent of lavender and old books wrapping around us. Alaric didn’t set me down. Not when he kicked the door shut behind us
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