Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE LUNA’S ASCENSION: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

The morning after Ava’s ominous discovery came with a mix of determination and uncertainty. I knew becoming Luna wasn’t just about titles or ceremonies—it was about choices, responsibility, and the weight of every decision I made from this point on.As the first official day in my role began, I stood in the heart of Silverclaw’s newly restored meeting hall, scanning the faces of the pack members who had gathered to hear me speak. Some looked up at me with trust, others with cautious hope. But not everyone shared that sentiment. Among them were elders who had seen more moons than I could imagine, warriors set in their ways, and newly allied wolves still adjusting to our unity. The air was thick with tension—not the crackling kind before a fight, but a quieter, more dangerous unease, like waiting for a storm that hasn’t fully passed.I raised my hand, silencing the murmurs. "We are no longer who we were yesterday," I began, my voice steady but firm. "The old divisions are gone, and Si

The cryptic words on the parchment—“Elara’s debt is due”—had clung to me like a curse. Something ancient had been awakened beneath that riverbed, and whatever my great-grandmother had left unresolved was now demanding payment in blood.But before I could dive deeper into the journals or summon the elders for another grueling discussion, a visitor arrived at the borders of Silverclaw. The sentries said he had demanded to meet with me—and only me. He claimed he had answers. I sat across from him in the war room, the flickering torches casting restless shadows on the walls. The man called himself Malachi. His presence unsettled me—a strange mix of danger and intrigue. His sharp eyes gleamed like steel, taking in every detail of his surroundings with a calm that bordered on arrogance. He wasn’t from Silverclaw—His scent carried something foreign, old, and wild, like the scent of an ancient forest that hadn’t been touched by human hands in centuries. And yet, his posture was relaxed,

The photograph burned in my hands, its weight far heavier than the paper it was printed on. Malachi’s connection to my family had shattered what little trust I still had in him. But questions about his intentions would have to wait—if the Shadow Crescent was real, if they were targeting me, I needed to be prepared. I glanced toward the moon, now slipping beneath a veil of clouds. Luna's strength came not only from her pack but from within herself—something ancient, something primal. And if I was going to protect Silverclaw from enemies lurking in the shadows, I had to find that strength—no matter the cost.The air was heavy with mist as I made my way to the ancient grove at the heart of the forest. I had come here only once before, guided by my mother years ago, when I was too young to understand its significance. Now, the grove called to me like a distant memory, pulling me toward it as if the answers I sought lay buried beneath its soil. The trees swayed in the wind, whispering

Mason’s message haunted me long into the night, its vague promise of trust gnawing at my instincts like a wolf circling prey. But there was no time to chase him—not yet. A storm was already gathering, and now, another piece of the puzzle was demanding my attention: the prophecy. The ancient scrolls lay unfurled across my desk, their ink faded but potent with meaning. These were relics passed down through generations, guarded fiercely, and only read under dire circumstances. Tonight, I’d summoned Morwenna, the town elder, to help unravel the latest twist. Whatever truths had been buried within these fragile lines could no longer stay hidden. Morwenna sat across from me, her gnarled hands carefully tracing the delicate parchment. Her presence always carried weight—like she was more than just a guide, but a living extension of the prophecy itself. I could feel the tension thickening with every breath she took, as if the scrolls were not just documents, but silent warnings waiting to

The tattered piece of Mason’s coat lay heavy on the ground as if it weighed more than cloth and blood—it was a promise. A warning that Mason, and everything tied to the prophecy, was slipping from my grasp. Draven had the upper hand, and now the cold realization settled deep in my chest like an iron weight. Mason had betrayed me. It didn’t seem real at first. He was the steady force I leaned on, the one who stood by me through endless battles and whispered reassurances when doubt threatened to drown me. But now… Now his absence wasn’t just unsettling—it was treacherous. I clutched the torn piece of fabric tighter, the edges stained with dried blood. It matched the scent trail I’d followed from the battlefield, leading me here—to this hidden cave where Draven’s soldiers had gathered, only to vanish into thin air minutes before my arrival. It was too coordinated to be a coincidence.A sharp breath escaped me. "He knew." The words were bitter on my tongue. Mason had known the exact m