บททั้งหมดของ Rescuing His Enslaved Luna Queen: บทที่ 201 - บทที่ 210

Ivy's POVJust as I can feel the skin of my neck starting to tear beneath the weight and crushing pressure of Warrior Garett’s fangs, I suddenly feel a new sensation washing over me. The world, once so loud it felt like it was splitting my skull, falls silent. The pain wracking my body fades into faint pinpricks. The fangs to my neck, the injured leg, the itch of grass and dirt beneath my body–All at once, everything slips away. TIme stands still. I can’t feel anything at all. For a moment, I’m terrified that I’m dead. And is this what death is? An endless expanse? Complete, utter emptiness of the mind? It’s not awful, if I’m being honest. But I don’t think I’m dead. At least, I don’t feel dead. I think there’s too much awareness for that. I feel like I’m floating, like I’m terrified, like I’m dissociated–But everything still feels painfully real. Suddenly, I can feel a familiar presence cutting through the empty whiteness that has filled my mind. It’s Spencer. I try to bre

Ivy's POVAs soon as I find myself standing triumphantly in my shifted form, I can feel the pure, raw power coursing through my body. My shifted form is made of lean muscle that moves fluidly as I start to adjust to this newer, stronger body. I can feel the power coiled taught in my shoulders and hind legs, the damage I could deal with a single attack if I wanted to. This is the power I’d enjoyed ever since I first shifted, and now that I have it back, I suddenly feel like I’m on top of the world. And combined with all the training I’ve had with Sylvia and Gamma Everly, the combat practice and skills that I’ve been honing for a month all in preparation for this day…I almost feel like laughing as I look up at Warrior Garett, who’s still doing his best to pin me down. It’s hardly working, though. His jaws are clamped awkwardly around my neck, but they’re slipping and sliding along my sleek white fur, clearly unable to find purchase. With a single lazy swat of my front paw, I strike W

Ivy's POVAs I climb off of Warrior Garett, freeing him from my hold, a reluctant wave of applause sweeps through the crowd of warriors. A rush of elation rushes through me. I look at the crowd, a wide smile on my face. It’s like letting out a breath I’ve been holding in for a month now–all the fear surrounding this duel, a fear of losing, of failing, of risking death itself–it drains out of me, and I can feel myself finally starting to relax. Warrior Garett immediately steps away from me the moment he’s up on his feet, glaring at me bitterly. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s seethingly furious with me, but he also seems too terrified of me to exact any sort of retribution. Good. If he’s scared of me, that fear will spread through the rest of the Lycan Warriors. At this point, the best way to secure their respect might be fear. The rest can come later. Warrior Garett and I both shift back into our human forms. I feel the physical strength of Venetia’s wolf form ebbi

Ivy's POVOnce I return to my room, I take some time washing away all the stress and strain of the duel. I draw myself a soothing bath, adding rose oils and flower petals. As I shed my sweaty exercise clothes and relax into the warm water, I watch the layers of grime detach from my skin and float to the surface. I scrub the filth from my skin until it’s pink and raw. I won’t feel clean until every trace of it is gone. There are open cuts and wounds lancing across my skin–what Warrior Garett’s claws did to me. I’m sure he’ll leave a couple scars, but I’m sure I’ve given him quite a few, too. Besides, I have so many scars already that whatever marks he’s left on me will fade soon enough. The hot water feels holy against my skin as I let myself recover from the stress of not just the duel, but all the anxiety leading up to it. Tense knots in my shoulders untangle themselves, and the calluses on my skin start to break down. I can fight, but I don’t think I’m meant to be a full-time f

Spencer's POVThe moment Alpha Quentin enters the dining hall, I find myself scrutinizing him closely. I’ve heard of the Mountaincrest pack before–while a smaller pack, they’re formidable for their strength, seeing as they live at higher altitudes in the freezing cold. I can see the evidence of this harsher lifestyle upon examining Alpha Quentin–his body is large and well-muscled, and his keen brown eyes are alert as they look around the room. Yes, it seems that Alpha Quentin would be a beneficial match for the Lycan Royal Family. A lot less complicated than Sylvia and Beta Wilson, too. He’s handsome, too, with curly black hair and chiseled features that soften into a warm smile as his gaze lands upon Sylvia. Alpha Quentin approaches the table and stands next to Sylvia, where his seat awaits him. “My fair Princess Sylvia,” he says, powerful, rumbling voice heavy with respect. As he sweeps into a low bow, he takes her hand in his and plants a kiss in the air above her knuckles. “I