All Chapters of The Heart of the Queen: Legacy of The Moonborn: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

Selene’s POV I had been still long enough. Healing normally had never suited me. All that waiting for my biology to act naturally. I hated it. The weakness that had once coiled beneath my ribs was now nothing more than a faint memory. My magic moved again—slow, steady, but undeniably mine. I could feel it in my veins, in the hum beneath my skin. Power returning always felt like reclaiming something stolen. I rose from the edge of the cot inside the small hut we had taken shelter in. The structure was crude, half-rotted wood and a sagging roof, but it had kept the rain off us while Ansel gathered herbs and pretended not to watch me every time I shifted in my sleep. “You’re standing,” she said from across the room. “I noticed.” Her brows drew together. “Are you sure you want to put yourself at risk again?” I turned slowly, studying her. “The only person at risk here,” I said coolly, “is you, if you continue underestimating me.” Her shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t mean it like th

Aria’s POV I woke feeling… wrong. Not weak. Not ill. Just divided. My eyes opened slowly to the pale wash of morning light spilling through the curtains. For a moment, I lay still, assessing myself the way I always did—measuring the hum of magic beneath my skin, the quiet of my thoughts, the sharpness of my control. Something was different. I felt conscious. But not alone. It wasn’t her voice. Aria wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t clawing at the edges of my mind or whispering useless pleas. Yet there was a faint awareness beneath mine. Like another set of eyes open somewhere behind my own. Muted. Distant. But there. I inhaled slowly. Annoying. Before I could dwell on it, another sensation rose unexpectedly. A pull. Soft. Urgent. Maternal. I sat up immediately. The twins. The need to see them overpowered everything else. It wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t strategic. It was instinctive, almost primal. I dressed quickly in something simple and pale, braiding my white hair

Aria’s POV Night settled heavily over the Citadel. The room was dim, lit only by the dying glow of a few candles and the pale spill of moonlight through the tall windows. I sat at the edge of the bed, hands folded in my lap, staring at the door. Waiting. The guilt had crept in slowly after the incident with the twins. It wasn’t sharp like anger or pride—it was quieter. Persistent. Unsettling. I had not intended to hurt them. And Ronan… He had looked at me as though I had shattered something fragile beyond repair. I didn’t like that look. I didn’t like that it bothered me. Midnight came and went. The door finally opened well past it. Ronan stepped inside without glancing at me. His movements were controlled, deliberate. He removed his outer jacket, draped it over the chair, and walked toward the hearth. Toward the corner he had claimed as his sleeping space. The distance between us felt deliberate. “You could sleep on the bed,” I said quietly. No response. He knelt and

Aria’s POV I barely remembered leaving the cells. One moment I was staring at Joran’s blood on my hands, the next I was pushing through corridor after corridor, my pulse roaring in my ears. I found the nearest washroom and slipped inside, locking the door behind me. My hands were shaking. I turned on the water and braced myself against the sink as I scrubbed at my skin. The red swirled down the drain, disappearing as if it had never been there. But I still felt it. The heat. The anger. The edge. “I’m not her,” I muttered under my breath. I scrubbed harder. “I’m not Selene. I’m not Visenya.” My reflection stared back at me in the mirror—wide eyes, flushed skin, strands of hair falling loose around my face. “They deserve retribution,” I whispered to myself. “But I will not lose myself giving it to them.” My breathing slowly evened out. The water ran clear. I lifted my gaze fully to the mirror. For a split second— It didn’t feel like I was looking at myself. The eyes s

Aria’s POV Lucien’s hands were still on my waist. His mouth hovered just above mine, breath warm, eyes dark with longing. The heat inside me pulsed, urgent and consuming. Every instinct screamed at me to close the distance again, to lose myself in the familiarity, in the bond that had once defined my entire world. For a split second, I almost did. But then— Ronan’s face flashed in my mind. The way he had looked at me that morning. Uncertain. Hopeful. Afraid to trust which half of me had opened her eyes. My husband. Marked and bound together by rites. The word still felt surreal. I was married to him. Even though Lucien was still my mate. The pull between Lucien and me was designed by fate, instinctive, woven into blood and bone. It felt like gravity. Like inevitability. But what I felt for Ronan… That wasn’t gravity. It wasn’t a bond decided for us before we knew about each other. It was choice. It was pure and true emotions It was built in quiet moments, in patie