All Chapters of Stronger Than Pain: From Beta To Luna: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The smell of old paper and candle wax clung to the air, the kind of scent that usually calmed me. But today it felt heavy, thick enough to choke on. I was halfway through tracing the spine of an ancient text when the shadows between the shelves moved. Not the way they normally swayed when the torches flickered. No, this was different. “Maya.” My blood ran cold. Her voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It slipped straight into my head, curling around my thoughts like smoke. I turned before I could think better of it, and there she was. Samira. Fully formed, every inch of her real and wrong. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders like ink, her skin pale enough to catch the light in strange, unnatural ways. And her eyes, those weren’t human eyes. “Stay away from me,” I whispered, but my feet didn’t move.

I woke up to the sound of someone crying. It wasn’t loud, more like a muffled, broken sob, but it was steady, like it had been going on for hours. My lashes stuck together as I blinked against the dim light, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. The room swayed, my head heavy, my mouth dry. “...she’s awake.” That voice. Conan. Rough, low, and trembling in a way I wasn’t used to. I passed out yet again. Before I could process, he was beside me, crouched so close I could feel the heat of his body. His hands cupped my face like I was glass. “Maya. Look at me. You’re here. You’re safe.” I sucked in air so fast it burned. “Jayden...” The memory slammed into me like a punch: Samira’s smile, Jayden’s small body in her arms, that eerie lullaby, her laughter, then the way it cut off. His head falling back. My scream. Blackness. Again! It all came back again. Once I wake up I remember that incident. I bolted upright, but Conan caught me instantly, holding me against his chest befo

They didn’t wait for us to settle before the accusations started flying.I barely had time to pull out the chair beside Conan before the first voice, sharp, male, dripping with disdain, cut through the room.“This is what we’re doing now? Bringing outsiders into matters of the council?”The table was long, carved from ancient oak, polished to an almost unnatural shine. It reflected faces, most of them scowling, under the dim glow of the chandeliers. Conan sat beside me, still as stone, but the tension in his jaw told me he was one step away from snapping someone’s neck.I tried to keep my expression neutral, my hands folded neatly in my lap. Inside, my pulse was thundering.“She’s not an outsider,” Conan said finally, his voice low but lethal. “She’s the mother of my son. That makes her more part of this council than most of you will ever be.”A ripple of disapproval moved through the room. An older woman with steel-gray hair leaned forward. Her rings clinked against the wood as she s

“My Luna is chosen,” Conan’s voice cracked across the chamber like a whip, sharp, unyielding. “Maya is mine. She is your future Luna.”The silence that followed wasn’t silence at all. It was air choking, claws retracting, wolves barely holding back growls. Then the eruption came. Gasps, mutters, whispers spiraling like wildfire through the chamber.Lord Veyren was the first to stand, his robes sweeping like a self-important banner. “Unworthy,” he spat, pointing at me as if I were some disease. “Do you dare disgrace this council with such mockery? That woman,” his lip curled “has no lineage, no training, no strength. She is fragile, broken, a stain to the seat of Luna.”Every word was a dagger. My fingers dug into the wood of the table to keep from trembling. My lungs burned, and still, I forced myself not to flinch.Conan didn’t rise from his seat. He didn’t need to. His power surged into the air, heavy, suffocating. Wolves froze mid-breath. The chamber bent to his presence.“Careful,

“Put that book down, Henry!” the tutor snapped, her voice tight as she snatched at the corner of the parchment.But Henry didn’t listen. He tore the page in half, his small hands surprisingly strong in their fury. The sound of parchment ripping echoed sharp through the chamber, followed by his voice, high and shaking with rage.“I don’t care about stupid rules of kings!” he shouted, his cheeks red, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.I burst into the study at that moment, my heart thundering in my chest at the sound of the commotion. My eyes landed on him, our Henry, fists clenched, hair wild from tugging at it, and his tutor standing frozen beside him, holding the remnants of the torn book.“Henry,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady, calm. “What’s going on here?”He spun toward me, his eyes blazing with something deeper than just a child’s tantrum. Hurt. Fear. Defiance.“You’re not even my real mom!” he screamed.The words slammed into me like a blade. My bre