All Chapters of Not Their Luna: A Female Alpha Story: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Dane Present "The echoes taught me how others failed," Finley explains, her voice carrying new authority born from hard-won experience. "They tried to force escape through individual effort. But this place... it responds to connection, to unified purpose. We can't just leave—we have to transform it.""Transform it how?" I ask, my tactical mind immediately focusing on practical implementation."Consciousness merger," she replies, and the words send a chill through me that has nothing to do with dimensional displacement. "Temporary fusion of our awareness while the space collapses around us. Dangerous, but possible if our bond is strong enough."The concept should terrify me—losing individual identity, even briefly, goes against every instinct Summit possesses. Yet as I study Finley's determined expression, as I feel Liam's ready acceptance through our connection, fear transforms into anticipation."What are the risks?" I ask, needing tactical assessment before committing to something

Liam The chamber falls silent again, but this time the quiet feels heavy with grief rather than relief. Our successful rescue, our triumphant return, is completely overshadowed by the devastating cost of bringing us home.I watch Finley's face crumple as the full weight of what just happened hits her. Through our enhanced bond, I feel the war of emotions tearing her apart—overwhelming relief and joy at being reunited with Dane and me, immediately followed by crushing guilt for feeling happiness while her brother suffers the ultimate loss."Rhett," she whispers, tears streaming down her face. "Oh God, Rhett. She saved us and now he's..." She can't finish the sentence, her voice breaking on a sob that seems to come from the depths of her soul."This is my fault," she continues, the words tumbling out in a rush of grief and self-recrimination. "If I hadn't gotten trapped in that space, if we hadn't needed rescuing, Brynlee would still be alive. Rhett would still have his mate. Maya would

Finley Four days since we returned from the between-space. Four days since Brynlee sacrificed herself to bring us home safely. Four days since my brother's world ended, and I can't stop feeling like it's my fault.I stand outside the medical wing where Rhett remains under constant supervision, a tray of his favorite foods growing cold in my hands. The doctors say he's not eating, barely speaking, existing in that hollow state that happens when a wolf loses their mate. They're worried he might not survive the severed bond, that his body will simply give up without Brynlee's presence to anchor him to life."He's not ready for visitors," the head nurse says gently, the same words she's given me for the past three days. "Alpha candidate, I know you want to help, but right now he needs—""He needs his mate," I interrupt, my voice sharper than intended. "He needs Brynlee back, and that's never going to happen because of me."The healer's expression softens with sympathy that makes my chest

DaneI wake to emptiness where Finley should be, the physical space beside me cold despite her having left bed only minutes ago. Through our bond, I sense her in the bathroom, the emotional walls she's constructed so thick that only fragments of her true feelings leak through—guilt, exhaustion, and beneath it all, a bone-deep conviction that she doesn't deserve the love Liam and I keep offering."She's pulling further away," Liam murmurs from his position on the other side of the bed, his voice heavy with concern and frustration. "I can feel it through the bond. Every day, she builds those walls higher."I nod, Summit stirring restlessly beneath my skin as he responds to our mate's distress. The enhanced connection that should be bringing us closer together has become a source of constant worry instead—feeling her pain without being able to alleviate it, sensing her withdrawal without being able to breach the barriers she's erected around her heart."Five days," I say quietly, running

LiamI find Finley exactly where the patrol leader said she'd be—standing at the eastern boundary, staring at dimensional monitoring equipment that's been giving the same readings for hours. Her posture screams exhaustion, shoulders set in rigid lines that speak to the emotional weight she's carrying, the guilt that's eating her alive from the inside out."The readings haven't changed," I observe, approaching carefully in case she decides to bolt rather than face whatever conversation is coming. "Celina confirmed the residual energy is harmless. Just aftershocks from the between-space collapse.""I know," she replies without turning around, her voice flat with the kind of emotional numbness that's been growing stronger every day. "I'm just... being thorough.""You're avoiding us," I correct gently. "Avoiding meaningful conversation. Avoiding anything that might help you process what happened."She finally turns to face me, and the sight of her hits me like a Mack truck. Dark circles un