All Chapters of Will Bear the Moon: Chapter 331 - Chapter 340

*Nicoli*The scent of pine and spiced wine clung thick in the air, mingling with the ghostly smoke from braziers and the rustle of silk as nobles swept past in their elaborate gowns. Nicoli slipped between a veiled woman and her partner, her jewelry chiming softly as she turned. "Pardon me," he murmured—half out of habit, half out of desperation that clawed at his throat.The words barely registered past his lips. He was drowning in sensation: the warm pulse of firelight painting everything amber and gold, the fire pits crackling like distant thunder, the chill from the open patio doors that made the marble floor bite through his thin-soled shoes. But the cold was nothing compared to the fire racing through his veins.He wasn't cold. He was burning.He was close.His shoes made soft, measured taps against the marble—a rhythm far too controlled for his pulse, which hammered against his ribs like a caged bird desperate for flight. The thunderous beating should have drowned out everythi

*Ana*That was awful of me.The thoughts sits weighted on my tongue as the quiet in the east wing sits like silk over stone—soft, but weighted. I exhale, the sound barely louder than the ticking of the gilded clock nestled on the mantle across from me. Firelight bathes the sitting room in amber warmth, low orange embers crackling with whispered promises of comfort. Comfort that seems to elude me right now. One of the less used sitting rooms, chosen precisely for its distance from prying eyes and eager tongues. But not too far to be completely cut off from everyone if I am needed. It’s a room meant for calm. For sorting through thoughts before they become decisions. Yet my fingers worry the smooth mahogany of the nearest chair, unable to settle, my mind a restless.I never thought I’d want to leave a party so fast then I did right then. The party breathes behind us still, its pulse seeping through marble walls and painted corridors. Muted violins weave through distant laughter, a pha

*Ana*"I'm sorry?" The words slip out smaller than I intend, soft and brittle, like a glass ornament held too tightly. The goblet in my hand feels suddenly heavy, as though the weight of the wine has doubled. The stem, slick from condensation, threatens to slide from my fingers. I shift my grip, but the warmth of the wine against my palm is uncomfortable, cloying, as if the heat comes not from the liquid but from my unsteady pulse."You mean... my father?" I ask, the words careful and measured, each syllable shaped with forced innocence. The question tastes strange on my tongue, metallic with uncertainty. Surely that's what she means. Who else would she mean?But Bratha doesn’t answer—at least, not with words.She bursts into laughter.The sound erupts from deep in her chest like thunder cracking across a summer sky—raw, too loud, violent in its intensity. It shakes the very air between us, sending vibrations through my bones. She doubles over slightly, one manicured hand pressed agai

*MYKHOL* If Mykhol could move any faster, he would have. Every step that carried them away from the Great Hall—away from the suffocating blue eyes, from the endless noise and speculation—felt like stealing something forbidden and delicious. Each stride was a victory, his leather boots striking the marble with deliberate precision. The storm of whispers and the prince's frantic voice were already fading behind them, swallowed by the echoing stillness of the palace's white stone halls that stretched before them like a sanctuary.Gods, finally we can be alone.His grip on Ana’s waist was firm, possessive, his fingertips pressing through the silk of her gown to feel the warmth of her body beneath. , her weight settling against his side like a secret he'd finally claimed. Dazed and pale, with her silver lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks—the sight of her so vulnerable, so easily led—sent a pulse of dark satisfaction coursing through his veins. He forced his smile to remain sof

*Nicoli*“Ana, wait! Don’t–”Her name barely made it past his lips. It hung there, unfinished, breathless—like the last wisp of smoke from a snuffed candle as the silver and glass doors whispered shut behind them—a ghost's sigh sealing his fate.Nicoli stood motionless, his arm still stretched toward empty space where she'd been heartbeats before. Mykhol's dark silhouette had materialized like smoke given form, sweeping Ana away with predatory grace—swift, seamless, unapologetic. Like a storm that appears without warning to reap devastation in one fell swoop. They vanished through the gilded archway into the pristine halls beyond, swallowed by marble and shadow.His fingers curled back to his palm slowly, useless now. She was gone.And he hadn't been given the chance to stop her. Every instinct screamed at him to give chase, to find her, comfort her. Ana— But the crushing realization hit him like ice water: he had no idea where they were going, let alone how to navigate this palace la