All Chapters of The Feral Alpha’s Rejected Luna: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Content Warning: Depictions of violence and bloodshed Dominicus I shut my eyes tightly, willing the memories to fade. But when I open them again, I force myself not to look away from that structure. The place that holds all my nightmares. The mansion looms before us, a silent testament to the horrors it witnessed. My heart races, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin as the memories threaten to overwhelm me. I take a deep, shuddering breath, the cool air doing little to calm the storm raging inside me. My hands tremble, and I clench them into fists, trying to ground myself in the present. Diana's voice breaks through the haze of my thoughts, shaky and hesitant. "Dominicus... what happened? What did you see?" I swallow hard, my throat constricting as I struggle to form the words. When I finally speak, my voice is hoarse, laden with the weight of years of grief and guilt. "I saw... I saw my mate, Adriana. She was..." I pause, the image searing through my mind. "She was rippi

DianaThe words hang in the air, heavy and ominous. My tears stop as shock takes over, leaving me feeling numb and disoriented.“Dark… Magic?” I echo, stutteringly.“Wha-“ "It... it actually exists?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.Dominicus's face is grave, his eyes dark with a chilling menace."Yes”, his jaw clenched tight.My eyes are round as my jaw goes slack with shock. A frown creeps across Dominicus's face. "Tell me," he says carefully, "what do you know about the supernatural world?""Well, it's made up of werewolves-," I begin but then I trail off, uncertainty creeping in. Something about the way he asked the question makes me pause and reconsider.I think back to the books I've read, remembering inconsistencies I'd previously overlooked. "In the books I've studied," I say slowly, piecing my thoughts together, "sometimes they refer to the 'supernatural world' and other times to the 'werewolf world.' I never really thought about it before, but... if they mean the same t

DianaI take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh forest air that surrounds us. The scent of pine and earth fills my lungs, momentarily calming my frayed nerves. But the weight of what I need to say presses down on me. Steeling myself, I turn to face Dominicus, my heart pounding in my chest."Dom?" I call out, my voice barely above a whisper, almost lost in the gentle rustling of leaves around us. "There's something I need to tell you... about yesterday."I feel him tense briefly before relaxing, his muscles shifting beneath his skin like a predator preparing for action. His arms tighten around me, a gesture of silent support that speaks volumes in the quiet of the forest."What is it?" he asks, his tone gentle but concerned. His eyes, those mesmerizing brown orbs, search my face intently.I nod, swallowing hard. The memory of yesterday's ordeal sends a chill down my spine. But there's no time to waste. We need to act, and for that, Dominicus needs to know everything."It's... it's not g

12 hours ago… Brodik The Council chamber, a vast and imposing space, breathes with the weight of centuries. I stand motionless against its far wall, my face an impassive mask as I observe the unfolding drama before me. The room itself is a testament to the longevity and power of our kind, its very air thick with the scent of old leather, polished wood. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls, their rich hues muted by time and the flickering light of antique chandeliers. These woven histories depict epic werewolf battles and hunts, silent witnesses to the countless decisions that have shaped our world. The golden glow from the chandeliers dances across the scarred surface of the massive oak table dominating the chamber's center, its wood polished to a soft sheen by centuries of use and heated debates. Around this table sit the five of the most powerful werewolves in our world, Council Elders. Their faces, etched with the lines of age and weighted with hard-earned wisdom, are a canvas

DianaI'm curled up on the plush sofa in Dominicus' study, a book cradled in my hands. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, filtering through the large windows and casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. The only sounds are the occasional rustle of pages as I turn them and the soft scratching of Dominicus' pen as he works at his desk.It's a peaceful moment, but I find myself stealing glances at Dominicus over the top of my book, admiring the way the sunlight catches in his dark hair, turning it to burnished gold at the edges.Suddenly, the air in the room shifts. It's subtle, barely perceptible, but I feel it like a change in pressure before a storm. I look up from my book to find him sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his body tense as a coiled spring. His face, usually so relaxed around me, has hardened into a mask of seriousness, his eyes narrowed as he stares at something I can't see.Concern floods through me, chasing away the peaceful leth