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CHAPTER 121

Author: Wummie
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-26 17:49:48

LUCIAN

The arrow bends in the air and turns for her.

“Amaya,” I shout.

She throws an arm across her face. The shaft should take her throat. Darian moves first. His blade flashes. Wood cracks. The head shears and skitters across stone.

The messenger tumbles from the saddle, clutching his shoulder. The mare bolts. The pouch spins toward the ditch.

I dive. Fingers brush leather. A second arrow hisses from the ridge. I roll. Stone bites my cheek. The arrow nails the pouch to the ground through its strap.

“Hold the line,” Darian roars. “No one shoots without my word.”

Silence snaps tight. The ridge breathes.

Amaya drags the messenger into shadow. “Stay with me,” she tells him. Calm. Fierce.

I wrench the arrow free and sling the pouch. The hawk seal is smeared but intact. Our wax sits over it like a second skin.

Darian steps between us and the road. “Under the wall,” he says.

We cut low across gravel to the quarry mouth. A rusted winch looms. Ore rails dive into dark. The air smells like o
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  • The Slave Who Owned The Moon   CHAPTER 125

    LUCIAN“One degree,” Amaya says.Light thickens. The crystal hums like a throat. Theron lifts his ring. Evelara needles her flame.“Hold them,” Theron says.“Come take us,” I answer.Darian steps to my right. We make a narrow wall in a wide room.“Do not touch her,” he tells the men.They hesitate. His voice costs.“Left,” I tell him.He shifts. The first guard slides from shadow. I catch his wrist, turn, and send his knife to the floor. Darian clips his knee. The man folds.“Back,” I say.We slide one step. The cradle creaks. Amaya does not move her hand. Light lays across her cheek like milk.“Now,” Isolde whispers from inside the glow.“Do not listen to her,” Darian says.“I am listening to Amaya,” I say.Two more come. I take the quick one. He leads with iron. I let it kiss my coat, then give him the pillar. He bounces. Darian drives the heavy one into stone and steals his air with a shoulder.Evelara smiles. “You both look tired.”“We are,” I say. “Keep coming.”She flicks a ribb

  • The Slave Who Owned The Moon   CHAPTER 124

    AMAYA“Basement,” I say.Now.Darian nods and turns for the servants’ lane. Lucian takes my left, reading shadows. Trish keeps close to Garran. Amon watches our feet and copies them.“We split here,” Garran says at the laundry arch. “I take the boy. Trish with me until third bell.”“Go,” I tell him. “No heroics.”“Only habit,” he says, and vanishes.Darian leads us through the scullery and down a stair. Stone is wet, air full of ash. We pass a locked room of flour, another of wine. Darian presses a palm against blank wall. Stone shifts.“Secret?” Lucian asks.“Father liked them,” Darian says.The passage angles left and drops. A hum rises beneath the steps and gets into my teeth. It feels like thunder leashed.“That is it,” I whisper.Lucian glances at my hand. “Steady?”“Not yet,” I say. “Soon.”We reach a slab door with iron latches shaped like wolves. The metal is cold the way iron is for me and something else. Darian sets his palm to the center. Nothing.“Council seals,” he says.

  • The Slave Who Owned The Moon   CHAPTER 123

    LUCIAN“Left,” I say.Amaya cuts for the dark between two sheds. Trish stays with her, small and fast. Garran swings behind with Amon tucked to his side.“Keep low,” I add.We cross a strip of open ground. Smoke hangs in sheets. Torches rake the rooftops like teeth. The nets are behind us for now.“Listen,” Amaya says.I hear boots. I hear metal. I hear a bell struggling to live again.“Quarry lane,” I tell Garran. “Back stair to the dye loft. We split at the kiln.”He nods once. “We know the turns.”A voice floats from the square. Evelara. Calm. Pretty. Wrong.“Alive,” she calls. “Unmarked.”Trish swallows hard. “She means you.”“She means all of us,” I say.We slip into the kiln yard. Heat breathes up from sleeping brick. A gutter runs black along the wall. It tastes like old ash.“Stop,” Amaya whispers.I freeze. Three shadows move across the far arch. Their spears drag the stones.“Window,” Garran murmurs.We slide through a broken frame into the loft. Threads of light cut the dus

  • The Slave Who Owned The Moon   CHAPTER 122

    AMAYAI do not remember when fear began to feel like a shape I could hold. Tonight it has edges. It has teeth.The market is a throat full of people and smoke. Nets fall like sudden rain. They catch arms, shoulders, anything that moves. Silver threads flash with wolfsbane and intent. I feel them before I see them, a cold vibration under my skin that answers a footstep. Trish is pressed to my side, small and shaking, and Garran is a map of quiet motion. Lucian is a shadow at my back. Darian is a stone in my chest.Evelara moves like a knife through water, smooth and cold. She lifts her palm and makes flame bloom as if lighting a candle. It is clean, controlled, cruel. The net above us shrieks when heat licks it and parts just enough for a gate. People gasp as if the world lost its balance. Theron hears it and smiles the way a man smells blood. He points, and soldiers follow.I keep my hands loose at my sides, palms empty. The iron ring in my pocket feels like a secret. Heat slides unde

  • The Slave Who Owned The Moon   CHAPTER 121

    LUCIAN The arrow bends in the air and turns for her.“Amaya,” I shout.She throws an arm across her face. The shaft should take her throat. Darian moves first. His blade flashes. Wood cracks. The head shears and skitters across stone.The messenger tumbles from the saddle, clutching his shoulder. The mare bolts. The pouch spins toward the ditch.I dive. Fingers brush leather. A second arrow hisses from the ridge. I roll. Stone bites my cheek. The arrow nails the pouch to the ground through its strap.“Hold the line,” Darian roars. “No one shoots without my word.”Silence snaps tight. The ridge breathes.Amaya drags the messenger into shadow. “Stay with me,” she tells him. Calm. Fierce.I wrench the arrow free and sling the pouch. The hawk seal is smeared but intact. Our wax sits over it like a second skin.Darian steps between us and the road. “Under the wall,” he says.We cut low across gravel to the quarry mouth. A rusted winch looms. Ore rails dive into dark. The air smells like o

  • The Slave Who Owned The Moon   CHAPTER 120

    AMAYAHe says one word.“Choose.”It lands between us like a blade laid on a table. The drain room breathes behind him. Wet brick. Old dye. My pulse kicks once and holds.Lucian stands at my shoulder, quiet. I feel his heat through the wet cloak. I feel Darian through the bond, the ache that never learned how to sleep.“I choose to live,” I say.His jaw tightens. “With him?”I do not look at Lucian. I keep my eyes on the Alpha. “With myself.”Darian steps inside and shuts the door with his heel. The lanterns are dead. Only the slit of the culvert gives us a thread of gray.“You cannot leave,” he says. “Not tonight.”“Then stop me.”He lowers the blade. “I am trying to save you.”“You are trying to save the house.”He exhales once. “Both.”Lucian’s voice is low. “Brother, stand down.”“No,” Darian says. “Theron is moving nets. Evelara is feeding him names. If you step out that door with a forged pouch, you will not make ten paces.”“So you know,” I say.“I know enough to know you think

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