All Chapters of whispers beneath the moon: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The moon was high, bathing the Nightfang estate in silver light, but nothing could settle the storm raging inside me.I was pacing.Like a caged animal. Like a wolf on the edge of madness.The image of her laughing with that damn guard wouldn’t leave my head—her soft fingertips brushing his arm, the sway of her hips, the devilish glint in her eyes like she knew I was watching. She did it on purpose. Every move was for me. A challenge.And fuck me—I lost.I had spent hours trying to cool down, to work, to reason with myself. But reason didn’t live here anymore. Not when it came to her. My mate. My Luna. Mine.Tonight, she’d pay for what she did.Not with anger.But with need.I was going to take her—inch by inch, breath by breath—until she was ruined for anyone but me. Slowly enough that she felt every second of my claim, roughly enough to punish her for pushing me, reverently because she was mine.And all the while, my wolf—Damon—paced restlessly beneath my skin, snarling, demanding.

had an idea. Or at least I thought I did. Because now that I’m thinking about it, it’s starting to feel so stupid. I’ve tried jealousy, I’ve tried seduction, I’ve tried everything in the goddamn book and still, this man—my perfect, fine, self-disciplined Mr Man—is holding on to his self-control like crazy‎‎And maybe a part of me wants him to just give in and sleep with me, not just because I want it—God knows I do—but because maybe, just maybe, if he does, when he finds out about Ronan, we’ll be too far in, too tied, too entangled to fall apart. Our relationship would already be sealed. He wouldn’t be able to let go. And I wouldn’t lose him.‎‎The ball is getting close and Freya has basically taken charge of everything already. Daisy is waiting for me to come up with an idea, and honestly? So am I. Because I know I’m going to do something, I can feel it in my chest, in my blood—but I don’t know what it is yet. I just know it’s going to come.‎‎And God, I feel like a horrible mate.

Alex's question hung in the air, that calm smile still in place. The scene from the hallway was fresh in my mind, but the sharp edge of jealousy had softened into something quieter—more curious than accusing.I stepped toward him, not rushing, just closing the space until I could feel the warmth radiating from him. My fingers brushed the front of his shirt, resting lightly over his heartbeat.His brow furrowed slightly. "Are you angry at me, love? Did I do something?" His lips quirked faintly. "Why did you kiss me suddenly? Not that I mind."I tilted my head, studying him. "Did you like smiling at her?" The words came out soft but edged.His hands slid to my waist, holding me there as his brows lifted. "Who, baby girl?""That girl," I said, my tone tightening just enough to let him know exactly which one I meant.Recognition flickered in his eyes, and then he chuckled—low and warm, the sound vibrating between us. His grip on my waist firmed, pulling me a fraction closer. "Are you jeal

A week.Yes, seven freaking days until Alex finds out I haven’t been completely honest with him.Seven days until I stand in front of an entire ballroom full of people who will be looking at me like they already know whether I’ll sink or swim.And no, I haven’t done anything particularly significant to prove I deserve to be Luna.But you know what? I’m going to go easy on myself.I did good yesterday, giving that speech in the kitchen. That was something.Alex is currently in a meeting I should probably be at, but he insisted I stay back. What a good little husband he would be—if we were married.Cherry is quiet again.I don’t even worry this time; she’s probably taking a well-earned break from my drama.Still, I should really wolf out soon—it’s been way too long since Cherry ran through the forest, and she’s probably sulking about itBy midmorning, my bedroom door slammed open so hard I thought the hinges were filing for divorce.“Rise and shine, sunshine! We’re making you a goddess,

The palace was humming tonight.Not in the soft, quiet way it usually did when torches burned low and the halls whispered with servants. No, tonight the very walls pulsed. The marble floor beneath my bare feet seemed alive with vibration, the air thick with perfume and roses and champagne, like the palace itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the ball.I sat in front of my mirror, trying not to wring my hands. The woman staring back at me hardly looked like me at all.The seamstresses had outdone themselves. The gown was sinful—midnight velvet that clung like it had been poured over me, leaving my back bare, dipping scandalously low until my tattoos gleamed like molten gold. The open skin glowed, slick with oil, every curve highlighted by hours of careful lotioning until my chocolate-brown skin shimmered under the candlelight.My curls had been teased into glossy spirals that framed my face and spilled over my shoulders, my lips slicked with a gloss so dark it made me look