All Chapters of Rise of the rejected Luna : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

RyderThe mornings had changed. My routines had lightened over the past few months. Once, I remember starting my morning with the sound of steel, the clashing of swords, the bark of commands, and the rhythm of men preparing for battle. Now, they began with softer music. The quiet cry of a newborn, the soft laughter of Kiara trying to soothe him, and the faint rustle of the wind through our open window.Peace had a sound, I realized. It was gentle. Erratic. Alive.I stood by the doorway, leaning on the frame, watching them.Kiara sat on the chair by the veranda, the early light catching the gold in her hair with Brandon lying in her arms, his small fingers curling around hers. She hummed a melody I didn’t recognize, something wordless, ancient maybe, or maybe just born from her.Her scar, the one on her shoulder had faded, but I saw the way she still shifted carefully when she moved, mindful of the wound that nearly took her out of this world. It had healed on the surface, but

KiaraI finally had the peace to listen. The birds sang louder, the lake shimmered brighter, and even the wind seemed to whirr in softer tones. It had been years since the days of blood and battle, years since I had woken to the echo of my sister’s voice or the weight of my own guilt.Now, I woke to laughter. Brandon’s laughter.He is seven now. A young boy with all golden curls, bright eyes, and the kind of boundless energy that could shake the calmest heart. I watched him from where I sat in the grass, the sunlight spilling over him like the blessing it was.“Slowly,” I warned, smiling despite myself. “Don’t pull too hard, or the light will vanish.”He frowned in concentration, his small hands hovering above the air as little sparks began to shimmer between his fingers. They flickered like fireflies, like threads of blue and silver dancing in the sunlight, tiny pieces of my power finding their way through him.He is the perfect mix of his father and me. “I can hold it, Mam

FlashbackErina waited alone, her back straight and still as a blade. The room was small, lined with shelves that had not been touched in years, filled with the kind of books their ancestors had hidden; journals and records bound in leather, their spines marked with symbols no one dared to translate aloud. A dozen candles burned low around her, the flames fluttering as if they, too, knew the weight of what would soon be said.She had dressed for battle, although no armor showed on her skin, only the exactness of her posture, and the composure of someone who had already made peace with her sin.When the door opened, it did not creak. Jason entered like a shadow. His coat brushed the lobby, scattering the scent of the forest, smoke, pine, and something sharper beneath it. Wolf. His steps were unhurried, deliberate, the kind of stride that claimed a space without asking.“You are early this time,” Erina said, not turning. Her voice was measured, but her ears twitched faintly, betrayi

FlashbackErina followed Jason through the narrow path that led toward the heart of his territory. Jason’s stride was sure, the quiet authority of an Alpha in every step. Her boots pressed against damp earth, leaving prints that filled slowly with water from the mist that had begun to fall. The pendant, their pendant hung in Jason’s hand, and its faint green vibration reflected against the veins in his wrist.No one else knew they were here. The pack slept in the distance.. Erina almost envied them, their ignorance, and their peace. But peace was what kept Kiara strong. And peace was what they were about to destroy.Jason stopped at the edge of a wide field where the ground dipped slightly inward, forming a hole. The soil was scattered with smooth, translucent stones that glowed faintly with silver-blue light. It was the pack’s sacred ground, the pack’s link to elemental spirits that guarded their lands.Tonight, one of those spirits had been drawn here.Erina felt it before she

Flashback It had been a year after Kiara’s father’s wedding to Lucinda, and the house had already begun to change in quiet, slight ways. The laughter that once lived in its walls had grown cautious, like a bird that no longer trusted the open sky.Lucinda had mastered the art of gentility. Every word she spoke was wrapped in warmth, every gesture was painted with grace. Yet beneath all that gentleness lived something sharp and deliberate. That morning had started like any other day. The sun had spilled through the wide windows, sharp and bright, brushing over the cream-colored blinds. Erina and her mother were preparing for the philanthropy luncheon Lucinda was hosting. The air smelled faintly of jasmine perfume and expensive fabric, Lucinda’s scent, her presence, her quiet claim was over every inch of the estate.Kiara had gone into Lucinda’s room briefly the day before, curious about the photo albums stacked on her vanity. She had wanted to see her father smiling again, the w