All Chapters of A Luna And A Whore : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The sun rose without asking permission.It climbed the sky like a thief, painting the edges of the curtains gold, as if it could pretend the world wasn’t already charred and blackened behind it.Jasmine didn’t move.She lay curled in the center of the bed, sheets twisted around her limbs like restraints she hadn’t earned. Her skin smelled like smoke and silk. Her lips were dry. Her thighs still sticky with the ghost of her own touch.And still… she didn’t move.Grief didn’t strike like thunder in her. It leaked.Soft.Cruel.It slid into her bones with every breath she took, each inhale a reminder that she hadn’t died with Solace. That she’d woken up. Again.She hated that.Hated the sun for rising. Hated the wind for whispering. Hated the air for daring to feel fresh.And more than anything—she hated that her first instinct was to reach for Sarah.Her fingers found only cold cotton. The space beside her empty. Has always been empty.“Don’t leave me,” Jasmine whispered to the silence.

The hall had teeth.It didn’t speak. It growled. Low. Constant. Like it had been built to echo with the ghosts of men who thought they were wolves.Jasmine walked its length with her chin high, robe cinched at the waist, heels a slow staccato on ancient stone. Every step whispered command. Every sway of her hips promised ruin.Behind her, the double doors slammed shut.She didn’t flinch.Let the wind rage. Let the court watch. Let the Alphas seethe from their carved thrones.She was done pretending not to notice the way they looked at her. Like a prize. Like prey. Like something they could pin to a bedpost and claim with their mouths and teeth.She smiled.Because none of them had the hunger to match hers.Not even the one standing now.Kade.He stood at the base of the dais, arms crossed, jaw clenched. His cloak had been thrown aside, boots caked with the wet ash of morning drills. He’d been waiting. Brooding.The bruise she’d left on his throat peeked above his collar.Good.He shou

The corridor was colder than usual.Stone walls breathed with secrets too heavy for wind. Every corner Jasmine passed, silence trembled—like even the air knew what she’d done the night before. Knew she had walked into the Council chamber wrapped in nothing but silk and power and made men unravel with their own desire.And now they were afraid.Afraid of the woman who didn’t bow. Who didn’t kneel. Who smiled when they snarled and licked her lips after tasting their fear.The scent of that fear still lingered on her skin.But so did something else.Whispers.They slithered behind her now. From courtyards. From chambers. From soldiers who dropped their gaze too late. From women too bruised by submission to understand freedom when it passed them in heels.Whore.The word hissed beneath breath like a curse.She caught it in stairwells.In glances.In the tremble of lips that didn’t dare speak it to her face.Not yet.Jasmine didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.She walked through it like smoke wal

The coals burned low in the courtyard, embers hissing softly beneath the wind. Smoke rose like veils, curling through the cold air in silk ribbons, touching the high stone walls of Blackfang’s keep with a lover’s hush.Jasmine stood at the edge of it all...... barefoot.The night pressed in around her like breath, thick and trembling, heavy with eyes that didn’t dare blink. Wolves lined the edges of the courtyard in tense silence, some cloaked in fur, others still in skin, but all watching...... all waiting.She wore no silk tonight.No gold clung to her neck. No jewels weighed down her ears. Her hair was unbound, falling in untamed rivers around her shoulders. Ash clung to her calves. Blood crusted in the crease of her collarbone. A single white band of linen was wrapped tight around her ribs, and below it, nothing but a sheer black wrap that clung to her hips like smoke—threadbare and soaked in sweat.She stepped forward onto the hot stone, flesh meeting heat, but she didn’t flinch.

The sky over Blackfang was red with dusk, streaked like claw marks across the clouds.Jasmine stood at the edge of the balcony, wrapped in a robe the color of old wine. The wind was low, warm, humming with summer’s breath. Below her, the courtyard pulsed with the restless movement of wolves—guards pacing, servants shifting crates, soldiers running drills that made the air thud with exertion.But she didn’t watch them.Her gaze stayed fixed on the horizon......on that thin, sharp line where the woods met sky......and where her past had vanished into silence.Behind her, the room was still warm from firelight and fever. The scent of sex still clung to the bed, the floor, the silk thrown half across the chair. Kade’s mark lingered on her thighs—not as claim, not as conquest—but as something much more complicated. A memory in flesh. A bruise that hadn’t yet decided if it was a wound or a gift.A knock came at the door.Soft. Not servant-soft. Not submissive.It was the knock of someone wh