Semua Bab The Cursed Luna's Return : Bab 231 - Bab 240

The Weight of KnowingThe council chamber smelled of old stone and buried secrets.Aria sensed it as soon as she entered.The walls towered high and cold, marked with ancient carvings of moons and wolves in eternal watch. Torches burned along the sides, their flames flickering strangely, as if even fire feared what was about to be said.Rowan walked beside her, steady and grounding, but she could feel the tension beneath his skin. His hand brushed against hers for a moment, a silent reminder that she wasn’t facing this alone.But this was bigger than both of them.At the far end of the chamber, the High Council seats stood elevated, seven stone thrones carved from moonrock, each with the sigil of authority that had governed werewolf packs for centuries.Only three were filled.And one of them made Aria’s blood turn cold.Elder Morian sat at the center, relaxed, fingers steepled as if he had all the time in the world. His pale eyes locked onto Aria the instant she entered—sharp, knowin

The Weight of KnowingNight fell heavily over Silvercrest.The storm that had trailed Aria and Rowan from the ruins finally broke, leaving the sky bruised and restless, clouds drifting like unsettled spirits across the moon. The pack moved quietly, unease clinging to every step as they brought their Luna back through the gates.Whispers followed her.Not of fear, but of awe.They sensed the change.Aria felt it, too.The Moon’s Light pulsed beneath her skin, subtle yet constant, like a second heartbeat. Every sound was sharper. Every emotion was stronger. The bond between her and the pack hummed, deeper and wider than before, as if invisible threads connected her to every soul in the territory.She disliked how exposed it made her feel.Rowan stayed close, his presence steady and grounding. He didn’t speak as they climbed the steps to the Alpha’s hall, but his hand brushed hers multiple times, a silent reminder that she wasn’t facing this alone.Inside, the doors closed with a hollow

The Weight of What She IsThe night pressed heavily against the edges of the Silvercrest Pack. A thick silence filled the air, as if the world was holding its breath.Aria stood alone on the balcony outside her chambers. Her bare feet touched the cold stone, and she pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders. The moon hung low in the sky, swollen and glowing brightly. Its pale light washed over her skin, and the faint silver glow beneath her flesh stirred.She felt it again.That pull.That quiet hum beneath her ribs was ancient, patient, and powerful.The Moon’s Light was no longer asleep.And neither was she.Behind her, the door creaked softly.Aria didn’t turn. She already knew who it was.“You shouldn’t be alone,” Rowan said quietly.She exhaled slowly. “If I don’t learn to be alone with this, I won’t survive it.”Rowan stepped closer, stopping just behind her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t try to cage her fear or soften it with empty comfort. He had learned better than that.

The First Side ChosenThe High Council chamber had not changed in centuries. Stone pillars carved with ancient laws rose toward a domed ceiling, where moonlight filtered through enchanted glass. Every symbol and every rune was meant to remind those who entered that power here was absolute.Yet as Aria stepped inside, she felt something shift.Not fear.Resistance.The elders were already seated, twelve of them cloaked in silver and ash, their expressions carefully neutral. But beneath the stillness, tension coiled like a live wire.Rowan stood at Aria’s side, unmoving, his presence a silent warning. Kael and two elite guards remained at the doors.“You summoned us,” Elder Morian said smoothly. “Not the other way around.”Aria met his gaze without flinching. “Because hiding behind silence is no longer an option.”A murmur rippled through the chamber.Elder Virel leaned forward. “You accuse the council lightly, Luna.”Aria took one step closer to the center of the chamber. The air resp

The Prophet’s TruthThe gates did not break.They opened.Not through force, but through surrender.The iron locks twisted on their own, the metal creaking like something alive, and the massive doors parted just enough for one figure to step through.He was alone.No army, no guards, no banners.Just a man cloaked in black, his hood pulled low. His presence bent the air around him like heat rising from stone.Every wolf on the wall froze.Every instinct screamed to run.Rowan felt it hit him like a physical blow—power so heavy it pressed against his Alpha bond, testing it, probing it. His wolf growled, claws scraping at his skin, furious at being held back.“Hold the line,” Rowan commanded, his voice strong despite the pressure crushing his chest.The man stopped ten paces from the gate.Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his head.His eyes were not silver. Not gold.They were as dark as the void—depthless, ancient, knowing.“So,” the Prophet said calmly, “this is where the Moon has chos