Lahat ng Kabanata ng MOONBOUND SECRETS : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Ryland Pov I stood at the threshold of the manor, the sharp scent of pine mingling with the faint metallic tang of snow in the air. It was colder than I remembered, colder than it had any right to be. Marcus had always liked it this way, the chill keeping his domain quiet, calculated, unyielding. Beside me, Zara's stance was rigid, her jaw tight. The twins huddled close, their small hands gripping the fabric of her coat. They were oblivious to the tension thrumming between us and the door about to open. When it did, Marcus’s figure loomed in the entryway, silhouetted against the warm, golden light inside. He was dressed in black, of course—his signature uniform. Everything about him, from the sharpness of his gaze to the straightness of his posture, radiated control. I hated it. "Ryland," Marcus said smoothly, his lips curling into something that might pass as a smile but felt more like a warning. "Welcome home." Home. The word hit me like a slap, sharp and undeserved. Zara did

Ryland Pov The moonlight filtered through the frosted glass, casting fractured shadows on the floor. I stood in the hallway, staring at nothing, lost in the whirling chaos of my thoughts. Every word Marcus had spoken played on a relentless loop in my mind. His voice was sharp, cutting through my defenses like a blade. “Vulnerability gets people killed.” I hated him for saying it. I hated him even more for being right. The thought clawed at me as I leaned against the cold wall, my breath fogging the air. For years, I’d kept my distance from people—kept my world small, closed, impenetrable. Then Zara and the twins crashed into my life, upending every wall I’d built, and now I stood on the edge of something dangerous. I could lose them. The thought was suffocating, a weight pressing against my chest until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear Zara approach until her hand touched my shoulder. I flinched, my body jerking away instinctively before I registered it was her. H

(Ryland's POV) The forest stretched before us, dense and suffocating, the fog curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. Every step felt heavier than the last, the damp earth pulling at my boots as if trying to swallow me whole. The smell of smoke still clung to my clothes, a sharp reminder of what we had left behind. We moved in silence. Even Marcus, who usually had something snarky to say, kept his mouth shut. He walked a few steps ahead, his rifle slung low, eyes constantly scanning the trees. Leah and Sam followed closely behind, their footsteps careful, their shoulders hunched like they were expecting something to jump out at any moment. Zara walked beside me, her expression unreadable. She hadn't said much since we left the burned-out barn. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but the words never made it past my lips. The fog thickened as we pressed forward. The further we walked, the harder it became to tell which direction we were going. The trees blurred togeth

Ryland's POV I stood there, the storm long gone but the cold remaining in the pit of my stomach. The world around me was eerily quiet, too still, as though it knew something I didn’t. Zara’s words echoed in my head, the weight of betrayal pressing down harder with every passing second. I had trusted her. And now, I had nothing but the cruel taste of her lies to remind me of how easily I had been manipulated. But as much as I hated to admit it, there was more to this than just her. There were still pieces I didn’t understand, things she hadn’t told me. I couldn’t let myself wallow in the anger. Not now. I forced my feet to move, heading toward the one place that felt like it could offer some kind of clarity: my apartment. I needed time alone to think, to process, and to figure out what to do next. As I entered my building, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me. A quiet, unsettling presence that gnawed at the back of my mind. When I reached my door, I

Zara's Pov You stand at the edge of the room, hands trembling, heart pounding in your chest. The silence is suffocating, thick with tension, but you refuse to break. You’re not sure what’s worse: the dread crawling up your spine or the realization that you’ve been too blind to see it all along. Zara’s presence lingers like smoke in the air. You can feel her, even when she’s not in the room. And when she does appear, it's like she knows exactly what buttons to press, each word a calculated strike. Her control over the situation is suffocating, but what cuts deeper is the feeling that you’re trapped—trapped in this game, in her web. “Do you really think you can change things, Ryland?” her voice floats through the door, so calm, so assured. “You’ve been running, but you know deep down… it’s all futile.” Your breath hitches, but you don’t respond. You know that any word you say will be twisted, turned into something that’s not even yours. She’s too good at that, at using people’s