All Chapters of Three Alphas, One Luna: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Flora’s POV The moon hung low and golden over the clearing, painting the grass in silver light. I stood at the edge of those tall pines, heart pounding against my ribs like a war drum. This was the place where he had chosen me, Elijah, with his gentle smile and midnight-blue eyes. He had knelt before me in that very spot, the night air humming with magic, and offered me his heart.I pressed my fingers to the spot on my palm where he had traced his initials in blood, sealing our bond. I could still feel the warmth of his hand, remembering the sweetest yelp of joy in his voice.“Flora,” he had said, voice trembling with hope. “I choose you. You are my mate.”I had believed him. I had given him everything.Now, only silence remained.I closed my eyes and let the memory wash over me: Elijah’s strong arms, the scent of pine and campfire smoke, the echo of wolves howling in the distance. And then the moment it all shattered, the night he came to me, eyes haunted, and whispered, “It’s not y

Flora’s PovFrom my hidden perch high in the trees, I clutched the rough bark, fingers white against the dark wood. I was close enough to feel the heat from the explosion, the shock of it ripping through my chest like thunder. Flames danced in the night, licking the stone guard post as if it were kindling. A low rumble rolled through the ground beneath my feet.My heart thudded painfully. I hadn’t expected it to be so loud. Or so real. But it was too late to turn back.Amongst the smoke and confusion, I saw them, Sebastian’s shadow wolves, cloaked figures gliding soundlessly across the courtyard like ghosts. They moved with terrifying precision, avoiding every beam of light, every patrol. Straight toward Leila’s wing. Toward the chamber that I myself had described down to the last lock and curtain.My breath caught in my throat.There was no time for doubt now. No space for fear.Still, a part of me wanted to scream. To call out and warn someone, anyone.But I didn’t.I stayed frozen

Henry’s POVThe morning sun was just filtering through frosted windows when I returned to Leila’s ruined chamber. The air still tasted of smoke and ash. Guards had swept through, but I needed to see with my own eyes. Liam and Elijah were elsewhere, Liam questioning the patrols and Elijah tracing faint scents beyond the door. I knelt by the splintered frame, carefully lifting a length of silvered silk from the shattered wood.It glinted dully in the weak light, its threads unnaturally smooth. I pressed a fingertip to it and felt magic, old magic, not of our pack. I closed my eyes and let my training as a strategist take over. This was no simple kidnapping; it was planned, down to the tiniest detail.I wrapped the silk carefully in a cloth and slipped it into my satchel. My next stop was the blacksmith’s forge. If there was explosive powder in play, I wanted to know where it had come from.The forge was hot and noisy, the ringing of hammer on anvil echoing off stone walls. Master Calder

Henry’s POVWe rode at dawn, past the fields where the grass still held dew, beneath a sky too pale to be morning. The air smelled of wet earth and wood smoke. Elijah sat to my right, eyes closed, breathing steadily in the rhythm of his wolf. I sat on my left, mind racing faster than my horse’s hooves. We were heading toward the borderlands where no two maps agreed, to meet someone who could unravel the strangest mystery I’d ever faced: why a dark wolf would kidnap Leila.Our informant was known only as the Seer. She had once served the Crescent Council, advising alphas on matters of spirit and omen. Some said her visions came at a terrible price; others whispered she had made pacts with the moon goddess herself. We found her in a tiny cabin set among ancient oaks, gnarled roots choking the stone path. Smoke curled from the chimney, promising warmth and wisdom.Elijah and I dismounted quietly. I felt the weight of the silk thread in my satchel, its magic pulsing faintly against my thi

Leila’s POVI woke to the taste of damp stone and stale air. My head throbbed, each heartbeat a drum in my temples. I tried to open my eyes but the world swam before me, darkness, then vague shapes as the muscles around my lids fluttered into focus. I lay on something hard and cold, my wrists pinned above my head.Panic jolted through me and I tried to lift my arms. A sharp tug in my forearms stopped me. I gasped, feeling soft, silvery threads wrapped tightly around my wrists. I strained against them. The silk felt smooth under my skin, almost like water, but it… burned? No, tingled. Numbed.My breathing caught in my throat. I forced another breath and tried again. My arms lifted enough to feel loose cloth beneath them, my shirt, torn at the sleeves. I looked down; my wrists were bound to stout iron rings bolted to the wall. The silk wound around the rings, shining faintly in the dim light. I tried to call out, but only a weak squeak emerged.“Help!” I croaked, voice ragged. “Henry! L