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Sun and Moon

Auteur: CHIBI WRITES
last update Date de publication: 2026-09-10 22:35:52

They stayed by the stream a while longer, the earlier ease between them settling into something quieter, softer.

“Can I ask you something,” Kael said.

“Always.”

“Do you like astronomy? The stars, the sky, all of it.”

Bonita tilted her head back, looking up at the darkening sky above them. “I do. I used to lie outside at night, back before everything, and just watch. It was the one thing Drogo never took from me, because he never noticed I was doing it.”

“What’s your favorite part of it,” K
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  • The Alpha’s Rejected Luna and Her Five Daughters   Carrying the Weight Quietly

    They told Corin and Ilsa the following morning, both of whom listened with the same grave attention Bonita had come to expect from them whenever ancient danger reared its head again. “A Sundering child,” Corin repeated slowly, turning the term over with visible fascination beneath his concern. “I’ve encountered the phrase once, in a fragment so damaged I dismissed most of it as unreliable. If Aldric’s information holds true, it changes considerably how I understand everything we’ve learned about Amira since the beginning.” “Does it change how we protect her,” Kael asked. “Practically speaking.” “Possibly,” Corin said. “If her power extends as far as foresight and battle-influence, we may need to consider protecting her differently as she grows — not simply shielding her from physical danger, but perhaps guarding against anyone who might seek to exploit such power for their own purposes.” “And the boys,” Ilsa asked. “What Aldric said about one of them being capable of harming the H

  • The Alpha’s Rejected Luna and Her Five Daughters   What the Traveling Mage Knew

    Kael’s hand found Bonita’s shoulder, protective and alert. “Who are you,” he demanded. “And how do you know what she carries.” “My name is Aldric,” the stranger said. “I’ve spent forty years tracing old bloodlines and older prophecies, following whispers most mages dismiss as superstition too dangerous to investigate closely. I felt something shift in the world months ago, Alpha — the same shift, I suspect, that brought your daughter Amira into being marked as she was.” “Explain yourself plainly,” Kael said, “or this conversation ends now.” Aldric nodded, accepting the demand without offense. “The child already born to you — Amira — carries more than a simple ward against the thing you call the Hollow. I’ve read fragments across three territories that most scholars consider unrelated pieces, and I believe, put together, they describe something far larger than any single mage has previously understood.” “What is she,” Bonita asked, old fear and fierce protectiveness rising together

  • The Alpha’s Rejected Luna and Her Five Daughters   Word from Blackthorn

    The confirmation came three weeks later, exactly as Freya had suspected — twins, both boys, according to the healer’s careful examination, the news sending a fresh wave of celebration through the household that lasted well into the evening. “Two sons,” Kael said, still visibly stunned by the news even hours after Freya had delivered it. “Bonita, I hardly know what to say.” “Say you’ll help me pick names eventually,” Bonita said, laughing at his continued disbelief. “Preferably before they arrive, rather than after.” The celebration was interrupted only briefly by a rider arriving at the settlement’s gate late that evening, carrying news from an unexpected source — one of Kael’s border contacts, relaying information gathered from Blackthorn territory through channels that had remained quietly active since the trading post disaster. “Word is spreading through Blackthorn as well,” the rider reported to Kael and Bonita both, once he’d been brought before them. “Selene is with child. C

  • The Alpha’s Rejected Luna and Her Five Daughters   A Familiar Kind of Sickness

    The sickness started three weeks later, subtle at first — a faint queasiness in the mornings that Bonita initially dismissed as simple tiredness, easily explained by the household’s still-recovering rhythms. By the fifth morning of it, though, Rhea’s absence made itself felt in an unexpected way. There was no one with quite her instincts to notice the pattern before Bonita herself fully registered it, and it was Ilsa, of all people, who first raised the question over breakfast, watching Bonita push her food around her plate with visible discomfort. “You’ve been like this all week,” Ilsa observed carefully. “Pale in the mornings, tired earlier than usual in the evenings. I don’t mean to overstep, Luna, but has it occurred to you what this might mean?” Bonita blinked, the obvious answer arriving with a small jolt of surprise that she hadn’t considered it sooner. “You think I’m pregnant.” “I think it would explain quite a lot,” Ilsa said gently. “Should I send for the healer?” Bonit

  • The Alpha’s Rejected Luna and Her Five Daughters   What the Evening Gave Them

    The morning passed easily, the girls tiring themselves out under Torin’s watchful, seated instruction, and by midday Bonita had coaxed him back toward the healer’s quarters despite his mild protests that he felt fine. “You’ll feel less fine tomorrow if you push it today,” she told him firmly, and he relented, grumbling but obedient. The rest of the day carried the same unhurried rhythm that had settled over the household since Torin’s rescue — no council sessions, no urgent reports, only the ordinary business of a settlement healing from recent wounds. Bonita spent the afternoon with Rosa in the kitchen, indulging her daughter’s growing interest in cooking, the two of them laughing over a batch of bread that came out considerably denser than intended. Kael found her there in the late afternoon, flour still dusting one sleeve, and something in his expression made her pause. “You look like a man with something on his mind,” she said. “I do,” Kael admitted. “Walk with me, once you’r

  • The Alpha’s Rejected Luna and Her Five Daughters   What Mira Noticed

    Mira found Bonita in the kitchen the next morning, still smiling faintly over her tea, and studied her with the particular sharpness that made Bonita feel, sometimes, like her daughter could read her thoughts directly. “You’re happy,” Mira said. “Properly happy. Not just relieved-happy, like after the trading post.” “I am,” Bonita admitted. “Kael’s been courting me properly, this past week. Flowers, poetry he definitely didn’t write himself, terrible dancing in the training yard.” Mira’s mouth twitched into something close to a smile. “He danced with you?” “Badly,” Bonita said. “Very badly. It was wonderful.” “I’m glad,” Mira said, settling into the chair across from her, her expression turning more thoughtful. “You deserve that. After everything with Father, I mean. You deserve someone who tries, even when he’s bad at it.” Bonita reached across the table, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “You deserve good things too, Mira. Not just me. You’ve earned rest, and safety, and time to

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