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Chapter 44 Belinda
Last Updated:
2023-04-05 01:43:19
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Will Bear the Moon Chapter 43 Take A Breather
*Ana*"Oh…this isn't good." The words taste like copper on my tongue the moment they leave my lips as I step out. I've made the biggest mistake of all. But it's too late. I'm doomed. The click of the silver-and-glass doors shutting behind me all but confirmed my end. Because the moment they do, the world changes.The noise cuts off like a blade through velvet—sharp, final. No more crystal goblets chiming like broken bells, no strangled violin strings sawing through the air like tortured metal. No high-pitched laughter that claws at my eardrums, spilling from polished fangs of nobles drunk on bloodwine and their own importance. No overly eager lords with their grabbing hands—fingers that linger too long on my wrists, palms that press too low on my spine, breath that reeks of wine and desperation as they puff their invitations in my face.It’s immediately gone. Sealed off like a jewelry box snapping closed. The oppressive heat that radiated from braziers burning like funeral pyres, the
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 42 Fangless Warrior
*Pendwick*"What could ALL of you possibly be doing with my dear assistant?"The words hung in the air like frost crystallizing on glass. Pendwick immediately saw the effect. It was astonishing. No, this was the power of a king. The nobles who had been so boldly aggressive moments before didn't just retreat; they withered.Lord Halric's face drained of color so rapidly that Pendwick could trace the path of it—first his cheeks hollowing, then his lips blanching to the pallor of a corpse. His mouth worked silently, a desperate fish gasping on dry land, the tendons in his neck straining visibly beneath paper-thin skin.Duke Serevan's jowls quivered like custard, the flaccid flesh rippling with each panicked breath. His backward step sent a discordant squeak across the polished marble, the sound sharp as a needle in the sudden silence. The heavy brocade of his coat rustled as he nearly toppled, the weight of his own fear disrupting his balance.Pendwick watched in mute fascination as a be
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 41 Always The Nice Guy
*Pendwick*"Until you return," Pendwick murmured under his breath, but she did not hear him over the crescendo of the strings, the cheerful music mocking him with its brightness. Each note stabbed like tiny daggers as he yet again had to watch her go. It always seemed to happen that way—too late, too slow, too soft.Always out of his reach, running.Pendwick could only watch as Ana reached the silver glass doors. When she pulled them back, a sharp and bitter snap of wind knifed through, sweeping back into the great hall and extinguishing the nearest candles with violent puffs of smoke. The intrusive cold sent her shawl billowing with a melodic click of chains and crown, lifting the veil of perpetual red to reveal the true beauty underneath. Her bundled coils of silver hair—neatly braided and gleaming like moonrays against the black sea—caught the remaining light. The rush of air carried the tang of salt and ice from outside mingled with something sweeter, something uniquely Ana—sandal
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 40 Daggers And Dances
*Anastasia* "Sir Pendwick," I manage, steadying my voice even as my stomach plummets like a stone dropped from the palace tower. The muscles in my face move by habit, not ease—a mask I've worn countless times sliding into place. I force the corners of my mouth to lift, polite but not too warm—just enough. My voice rings hollow in my own ears as I shape it into something graceful, something imperial."You would like a dance?""Ah, um, if you don't mind? I mean, if it's not too much trouble." Pendwick steps forward, his face flushed—not just with color, but with a slick sheen, as though the very air around him burns hotter than the rest of the ballroom. His palm brushes his jacket's hem—then halts mid-motion as if caught in a forbidden act. He stiffens with a swallow that bobs visibly in his throat, eyes flicking once, nervously, to my hands."Of course he does, Ana!" Father bellows with a slap to Pendwick's back, the sound cracking through the air like summer thunder, drowning the mus
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 39 Just One Person Too Many Masks
*Ana*My feet throb with each step, twelve dances already behind me and who knows how many still to come. I press my painted smile wider as Lord Arden finally releases my hand."Please," I say, the muscles in my cheeks aching from hours of practiced pleasantries. "Enjoy the party, Lord Arden."My fingertips tingle unpleasantly as I pull them from his iron grasp, pressing them against the front of my gown before he can snatch them up again. I've endured so many wet kisses tonight that my skin feels coated in a film that makes me want to scrub my hands raw. But an Empress does not flee to the nearest washing basin, no matter how tempting. Duty first. Always duty.Lord Arden finally bows, a wafting smell of old cedar and stale perfume rising as he turns. But not before his pale red eyes travel from my face to the single rebellious curl that has escaped from beneath my crown—that telltale sign of my half-blood status. The familiar look of subtle disdain crosses his face before he retreats
Will Bear the Moon Chapter 38: Disillusionment And Mystery Part 2
A honeyed whisper sliced through the ballroom noise, landing against the shell of his ear. "You’re so mean, to keep leaving me behind to deal with all these vampires, Nicoli." The words dripped sweetness enough to gag, a playful lilt barely masking the sting beneath. Possessive, triumphant, and just the tiniest bit petulant—all very much like her. "I might just have to punish you."Like she actually would, Nicoli suppressed a sigh, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as if she'd ever follow through with any of her threats. The giant just liked to tease. And she liked it even more when he rose to it. Nine years together had all but made that clear.And he knew the game by heart."Hello, Hidi," Nicoli said without turning, his princely smile tampered slightly but still on. Settling into their usual routine of push and pull.Her fingers slid into the crook of his arm, landing in their usual spot with the same easy certainty as sunrise. The sharp scent of lemon soap cut through the heavy
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