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Chapter 23
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2025-07-15 17:00:01
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LUNA'S CURSE; Her Three Messiahs Chapter 131
Dax POVThe shard sang like a thing alive.I had held metal before — knives, arrowheads, the odd coin warmed by a pocket — but this was different. It thrummed under my palm with a low hunger that crawled along my bones. It sat in Aya’s circle like a small black heart, veins of silver pulsing slow as breath. I couldn’t stop staring at it. The lamplight in her apothecary threw the veins into little rivers that seemed to shift when I blinked.Aya watched me over the rim of her cup, braid falling forward. “It listens when you think,” she said, as if that were ordinary. Her voice was the same steady thing I’d come to rely on, but tonight there was an edge to it I didn’t like. The beads on her counter clicked with a rhythm that answered the shard’s hum.“Metal doesn’t listen,” I said, though my hands felt too hot. “Not unless someone teaches it.”“Someone did,” she replied bluntly. “Or something.”I was supposed to be the one who kept my senses open — the tracker who could smell wrongness a
LUNA'S CURSE; Her Three Messiahs Chapter 130
Riven POVThe first wolf lunged out of the dark, a blur of patchy fur and snapping teeth. Its yellow eyes burned with unnatural light, and its jaws dripped black, viscous drool. I met it with steel. My sword cleaved sideways, a brutal arc that sheared through its jaw with a wet crunch. Black blood sprayed hot against my cheek, stinging my skin. The wolf crumpled, its body twitching once before the firelight revealed its ruined face—half beast, half nightmare, its flesh pocked with sores that pulsed with faint, sickly green.More eyes flickered between the trees. Four sets, glowing like cursed lanterns, their growls low and guttural. My beast bellowed in panic, rearing against its tether, the rope creaking under its weight. The wolves circled, their movements too precise, too coordinated for mere animals.“Corrupted,” Vayrek said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He stood a few paces away, knives gleaming in both hands, his stance loose but ready. His marble eye caug
LUNA'S CURSE; Her Three Messiahs Chapter 129
Keira POVThe recruits sat in rows, their backs hunched like broken branches, clutching bowls of thin, gray porridge that smelled faintly of ash and despair. The air in the camp was heavy, thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, smoke, and the ever-present tang of fear. Voices stayed low, barely rising above a murmur, as if speaking too loudly might summon the whip. Kaden’s men prowled the edges of the meal yard, their heavy boots crunching on the packed dirt, whips coiled at their belts like sleeping serpents. One wrong move, one raised voice, and those whips would bite.I sat at the far end of a splintered bench with Vera and Thea, my only allies in this pit of misery. Nylo, my shadow in feline form, was curled against my shin, his black fur blending with the darkness pooling around us. His tail twitched, a restless metronome, and his sharp green eyes tracked every movement in the yard—every glance, every shuffle. My own eyes followed suit, scanning for threats, for opportunities
LUNA'S CURSE; Her Three Messiahs Chapter 128
Riven POVI sat by the fire with my arms crossed, the taste of copper still thick in my mouth. The fox meat bubbled in the pot Vayrek had set over the flames. He stirred it with slow, patient circles, humming under his breath like we were in some tavern kitchen instead of deep in a forest filled with things that wanted us dead.The smell made my stomach growl, but I bit down on it. I hated how weak I felt.“Don’t tell me you can cook too,” I muttered, my voice flat.Vayrek looked up with his one marble eye glinting in the firelight. His grin spread wide across his face. “I can. You’ll thank me.”“I won’t.”He only chuckled, like he found my bitterness amusing. He dropped herbs into the pot, and the steam carried a sharp, earthy scent. My chest burned when I breathed it in, the poison still gnawing at me from inside. Every breath scraped raw.Vayrek’s gaze flicked over me, careful. “Still hurts?”“No,” I lied.He smirked. “You’re terrible at lying. Your chest shouts the truth even when
LUNA'S CURSE; Her Three Messiahs Chapter 127
Riven POVI sat by the fire with my arms crossed, the taste of copper still thick in my mouth. The fox meat bubbled in the pot Vayrek had set over the flames. He stirred it with slow, patient circles, humming under his breath like we were in some tavern kitchen instead of deep in a forest filled with things that wanted us dead.The smell made my stomach growl, but I bit down on it. I hated how weak I felt.“Don’t tell me you can cook too,” I muttered, my voice flat.Vayrek looked up with his one marble eye glinting in the firelight. His grin spread wide across his face. “I can. You’ll thank me.”“I won’t.”He only chuckled, like he found my bitterness amusing. He dropped herbs into the pot, and the steam carried a sharp, earthy scent. My chest burned when I breathed it in, the poison still gnawing at me from inside. Every breath scraped raw.Vayrek’s gaze flicked over me, careful. “Still hurts?”“No,” I lied.He smirked. “You’re terrible at lying. Your chest shouts the truth even when
LUNA'S CURSE; Her Three Messiahs Chapter 126
Keira’s POV I spat dirt from between my teeth and tried to pull my boots up without sound. Kaden’s horse breathed hot beside me. He sat straight, golden cloak tidy, like nothing had ever touched him.“You march with me,” he said. Short. Commanded. He didn’t need to look at me to make me obey. He never did.I walked. My feet were raw. The camp smell—sweat, meat, ash—hit me and I tasted everything I wanted to break. The gamemaster rode near, whip coiled at his side, smiling his small smile like it meant nothing. The recruits around me kept their heads down. They were afraid for reasons I could not fix with a dagger or a grin.“You did well in the ring,” Kaden said after a while. No warmth. Only the kind of praise that measured what he could use of you.“Thanks,” I muttered. My shoulder throbbed where Sara’s blade had bit. The wound had closed enough to be ugly. Enough to be proof someone had tried to hurt me.He snorted. “Don’t get cocky. You belong where I put you.”A last resettling
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