All Chapters of Luna’s Rebellion : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The ice hummed beneath my boots. Not from the wind, not from the cold—but from the thing in the water below, pressing up against the surface like it wanted to meet me. Closer, the voice whispered again. The shield inside me pulsed hot, heat bleeding into my palms until faint lines of gold began crawling up my wrists. I flexed my fingers, trying to bleed the magic back down, but it was like pushing against a tide. “Don’t move,” Cassian said, low but firm. His grip on my wrist tightened, the weight of command in it. “It’s waiting for you to get close enough. That’s all this is.” He was right. I knew he was right. And yet— The spiral shifted. The silver-blue glow became brighter, the dark water churning with slow, deliberate swirls, and then… a shape rose. Not a full body—just a hint. The edge of something vast and curved, like the tip of a wing carved from obsidian glass. It broke the surface for less than a second before sliding back under, but my chest seized all the same. The

I didn’t mean to fall asleep. One second I was lying in the fortress guest chamber Cassian had all but shoved me into, still in my battle leathers, staring at the rough-hewn ceiling. The next, the stone was gone. And I was standing in the breach. The chasm yawned before me, glowing silver from within, its smoke curling like fingers reaching for the sky. Snowflakes hovered midair, unmoving, like time had stopped. I knew it wasn’t real. That should have helped. It didn’t. “Elara.” The voice came from everywhere. Low and deep, layered with a hundred echoes—male, female, neither, all at once. It made my skin crawl in that way too-perfect music does when you know it’s meant to hypnotize you. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, but my voice sounded small, swallowed by the endless white. “I am always here.” A shape emerged from the smoke. It didn’t walk so much as unfold—limbs too long, posture fluid, a crown of something like bone and light twisting above its head. Its face shifted

Dawn never came quietly in the fortress. There was always the changing of the guard, the scrape of boots on stone, the hiss of torches being doused. But that morning, the sounds felt sharp, brittle—like the fortress itself was holding its breath. The breach chamber had not emptied all night. I could feel the exhaustion radiating from the mages as they kept the wards burning, their lips cracked from chanting, their eyes ringed with shadow. Kael stood beside me, a solid wall of heat and steel, while Cassian paced like a caged animal on my other side. Corren faced us from across the chamber, the Sealkeepers flanking him. Behind them, the fissure glowed faintly—not the furious light from last night, but something steadier, more deliberate. That was worse. “Your condition is unstable,” one of the Sealkeepers said, voice muffled under the silver mask. “The breach responds to you in ways our wards cannot counter. It is no longer a question of if—only when.” Kael stepped forward, bristli

The fortress didn’t sleep that night. Not after what we’d just seen. Every corridor hummed with whispered urgency. Sealkeepers rotated in and out of the breach chamber in shifts shorter than an hour, afraid to leave it unattended for even a breath. Kael refused to let me out of arm’s reach, as if I might dissolve into stardust the second he blinked. I didn’t blame him. I’d barely made it out of that last encounter standing. And the whole time, I could feel Nytherion lurking at the edges of my mind—not speaking, not pressing, just… waiting. By the time the moon reached its zenith, I couldn’t stand the tension anymore. I slipped away from the makeshift war council in the upper hall and made my way toward the breach. Kael followed, of course. “You’re not going in there alone,” he said as I approached the warded arch. I met his gaze. “Then stay close. But if it talks to me—let me answer.” His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Inside, the breach pulsed like a living wound. The

The fortress didn’t rest after the first strike. We barely had time to breathe before the second wave hit. The Sealkeepers hadn’t even finished resetting the wards when the air shifted again—this time sharper, like the wind had been honed to a blade. The torches guttered and died in perfect unison. Darkness rolled in like a tide, swallowing the battlements, the halls, every corner of the keep. And inside that darkness… something moved. Kael’s voice was low beside me. “They’re inside the walls.” I tightened my grip on my blade. “Shadows can’t breach solid stone unless—” “Unless they’re not shadows anymore,” he finished grimly. The first one lunged from the dark so fast I didn’t see its face—just teeth. My wolf half reacted before I did. I slammed my blade up under its ribs, but instead of blood, there was only a burst of black smoke. It dissolved into the air, leaving a cold sting in my skin where it brushed me. Dozens more followed. The courtyard became a blur of movement—Sea