Todos os capítulos de Broken trust: Luna's awakening : Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

NARAH’S POV“Apologise to her,” Isolde demanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.“There’s no f**king way,” Gina scoffed, defiance flickering in her eyes. “Come on, Gina,” Zander interjected, his voice softer, but the authority in it was unmistakable. “This is a public place. You can’t just treat people like this. You owe Narah an apology.”Well, technically she didn't because I had spilled the drink on myself on purpose.Gina inhaled sharply, her body rigid with agitation. “I don’t owe her anything.”My heart raced at the sight of her unyielding resolve. This wasn't just about a drink.It’s about respect. Something Gina clearly didn't understand. It was about control, power, and the lengths we were willing to go to reclaim them.“Then you’ll keep looking like the villain here,” I shot back, gesturing to the crowd around us. “This is your chance to show everyone you’re not just some cold-hearted b**ch.”I could hear the hushed murmurs around us—people loved a spect

LIORA’S POV “Wait, you can mask your witch's aura, right?” asked Narah, her tone edged with urgency. I offered a condescending smile and nodded. “Is that an insult or what? Even the simplest of witches can do that.” Pride oozed from me like booze. “I've been doing that for as long as forever. And besides, it's called Velori.” I twirled my left index finger in my hair, smiling. Narah twisted her face, her brows knitted in confusion. “That's Nuvolish?” “Yes. Chris does it too. It requires moonpetal, starlight salt, Dreamweavers moss, and essence of celestial water, but in a pinch, wolfsbane will suffice. Then you say the spell.” Narah’s gaze narrowed, as if trying to read my thoughts. “The incantation?” She pressed. I shrugged, settling down on the cold living room floor across from her. She shifted uncomfortably, keeping her focus on me. “Astra velare, auras celare Mea essentia, tenebrae fare Luna's grace, mea aura celare In tenebris, mea forma fare.” The words fl

ALPHA VAN'S POV(A few hours before the rescue)Muscles tightened around my heart as I entered the dungeon, my least favourite place in the estate. The air was thick with a damp, metallic scent that clung to my skin like grease.I struggled to recognize Anakiyus in his current state, barely resembling the friend I had known or the rogue that had loomed over us.My father once told me that before my grandfather built this place to be the Packhouse, it was merely a gaping hole in the ground, a void that craved the souls of those who dared to venture near.Centuries ago, precious stones had been mined here, but the most treasured was the moon jade—the rare gem that allowed mages to summon the Moon Goddess and create the first werewolves of Vaelothor.Once the werewolves were born, this mine was converted into a dungeon where rogues endured unimaginable torment, bound by cursed chains that suppressed their healing abilities.Jeremiah's muscles flexed as he drove his fist into Anakiyus's s

GINA'S POV“He broke his f**king cellphone?”“Yes, Luna,” one of my mother's trusted guards replied. I had informed her of my situation, and she sent men to protect me and carry out my orders. Having to deal with Arthur and now this? “F**k!” I cursed under my breath.I turned to Chris, captured and held by two other huge guards. His lips and brows were bleeding from the little fight he had put up when I asked to have his cellphone. “F**k you, Chris. F**k you,” I cursed in a low voice, jabbing a finger at him.I knew he was hiding something. The air in the warehouse was thick with tension, tinged with the scent of rust and dust of old crates and machines. Dim light filtered through cracked windows and roof, casting eerie shadows that danced along the concrete walls. My anxiety was clearly over the f**king roof.I had called Chris earlier in the day to speak with him about Van's medication, but he refused to pick my calls. I sent my men over,and they found him and brought him here t

ALPHA VAN'S POV(Flashback)I pushed my door open; the pungent smell of sweat from dirty boots and uniform swirled up my nose. I cringed in distaste and slammed the door, accepting my fate as it was. I quickly changed my clothes.The morning sun filtered soft rays of sunshine into my bedroom, calm and peaceful, yet the atmosphere was charged with chaos and anger.Father and son bantered about the life choices a son should make, but I felt like a pawn in a game I never chose to play.I had just quarrelled with my father again, and I was tired—tired of the fights and the exchange of words that never favoured me. Somehow, he always managed to win.Today, I refused to serve him his victory on my own broken back. I was done trying to please him, perhaps just for today.It was always about him: “Train! Train! Train!” That was all I ever did. I could hardly remember a meal that didn’t start or end with those words.It gnawed at me, a constant reminder that my worth was tied to my performance