Semua Bab Betrayed Luna: The Alpha's Claim: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Elena’s povThey came at dawn.The cell door slammed open with a metallic screech, and before I could react, hands grabbed me, rough, merciless.“Let go of me!” I snarled, thrashing against their grip, but it was useless. They were warriors, trained and soulless, dragging me like a prisoner of war.My feet scraped the stone as they hauled me out, not even allowing me the dignity of walking.We didn’t go up.They took me down.Down the mountain. Past the cells. Past the arena. And through the twisted, frostbitten path that snaked between dead trees and ash-covered ground. The cold bit into my skin, but I didn’t shiver. I stared, watching. Memorizing.We entered the town.The people of Nytherra didn’t speak. They watched. Some with wide, some with disgust. Others… with something like pity.But most looked away.As if they knew exactly where I was being taken, and feared what that place meant.At the edge of the town stood a structure unlike anything I had seen before. A massive black

Lykans pov The war table in the strategy room was cluttered with open scrolls, brittle maps, and hastily scribbled notes. The fire crackled in the chimney, but it did nothing to chase away the cold anxiety in my bones. Dominic leaned over the northern quadrant of the map, his brow furrowed. “If we take the High Ridge pass, we’ll hit the border in six days. But the terrain’s brutal. Too many ridges, and not enough cover.” I ran my fingers along the paper, tracing the jagged outlines of the Barren Lands. “If we go west through the frozen hollows, we can avoid most of the Nytherra scouts. That’ll buy us time.” “Time we don’t have,” Dominic muttered. "She might not necessarily have 6 days.” His words echoed my thoughts. Every second we hesitated was another second she spent suffering under that monster. The door creaked open behind us. I didn’t look up until the scent hit me: ancient pine, blood, and something I couldn’t name. Sylvester. The old wolf stepped inside,

Lykans pov The cold bit deeper the moment we passed through the boundary stones. The woods here didn’t breathe like normal forests. They listened. Our horses kicked up snow as we rode into the shadowed trees, every breath turning to smoke in the air. The snowfall wasn’t heavy, but it was constant drifting like ash instead of flakes. Sylvester led at the front, his hood drawn up, reins held firm as his black stallion trudged ahead. Dominic rode beside me, scanning every tree with the eyes of a soldier expecting war. But this wasn’t war. This was worse. Because the enemy here was invisible. Old. And smart. The Mountains of the Dead didn’t kill with claws or teeth. They broke you with memory. With fear. With illusions. And already, I could feel them watching. The trees curved overhead like ribs, enclosing us in a skeletal tunnel. Mist rolled over the path, thick and shimmering like it carried voices. And maybe it did. “Don’t speak to anything that talks first,” Sylvester

Elenas pov The door to the dark room creaked open.For a moment, I didn’t move—afraid it was another trick, another illusion meant to play with my mind. But the air that drifted in was real. Cold. Soot-laced. Familiar.A guard stood in the doorway, silent. No words. Just a sharp nod before turning away.I pushed myself up, muscles aching, bones bruised from the cold floor. My limbs protested, but I ignored them.They thought keeping me in darkness would break me.But all it did was remind me of who I was.I walked out of the cursed chamber, back into the mountain that had stolen so many Moirea lives, and I didn’t look back. Not once.When I emerged into the dim cavern holding the other cells, everything was too quiet. Until “Elena!”Mira’s voice cracked with relief as she ran to me, eyes glassy with tears. She looked thinner, more worn, but her spirit was still unyielding.“Are you alright? What did they do to you?”I took her hands in mine. “I’m fine. They wanted me scared. I’m not

Elena's pov The underground chamber was cold and damp, but the fire blazing in the centre of the stone hearth was bright, burning like the rebellion we were about to set into motion.I stood at the head of the battered table, Mira at my side, and the eyes of the rebellion staring back at me.They were warriors, yes, but not all with blades. Some were mothers with calloused hands. Elders with wisdom etched into every scar. Children who had grown too fast, too soon. But they all had one thing in common:Hope.And they were looking at me to lead it.Mira placed a hand on my shoulder before stepping back, letting the space belong to me.I took a breath and began.“I won’t pretend to have all the answers,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm within me. “I’m not here to play queen or saviour. I’m here because I’ve seen enough. I’ve bled enough. And I refuse to stand by while we’re treated like animals while our children grow up in chains. While we suffer day and night. ”Someone in t