All Chapters of Luna’s Rebellion : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Elara The throne room is too small for what I am becoming. I feel it in the way the pillars bend, glass twisting like sap beneath the heat of my aura. I feel it in the tremor underfoot—the heartbeat of the sunstone forges syncing with mine. Power coils in me like a living serpent, biting, burning, begging to be unleashed. And still, they argue. “My Radiance,” drones High Priest Veyr, the oldest of them all, his voice cracked like old stone. “We must proceed with caution. The Solarion—” “—is not ready,” interrupts Magister Draven, his robes rimmed with frost where my heat cannot touch him. “Even if it were, such a weapon risks unraveling the weave of the heavens themselves. One strike, and the Reach will become—” “A starless grave,” I finish for him. The words fall soft as silk, heavy as execution. They flinch. Good. They should. “You speak as though that is not the point.” A silence follows, sharp enough to cut throats. At last, Veyr gathers what little spine his bones

Kael The first star dies at dawn. Not here—not in this cursed Reach of stone and smoke—but far beyond, where suns burn like embers in the Sea of Skies. I feel it like a blade sliding under my ribs, silent and merciless. A gasp from the cosmos. A light snuffed out, not by time… but by will. Her will. Nyssa finds me on the precipice of the Black Spine, cloak torn by the screaming wind. Behind her, the Reach yawns endless and gray, mountains jagged like the teeth of dead gods. “You feel it,” she says, not a question. I do not answer. My throat is full of ash and something heavier—guilt, maybe. Or rage. Or both. “Kael.” Her hand grips my arm, firm enough to hurt. “She’s moving.” The words slam through me like thunder. Not because I didn’t know—how could I not? The bond between us may be scorched, strangled, but it isn’t dead. It writhes like a severed vein, bleeding light every time she breathes. But hearing it aloud makes the truth solid, heavy as stone: She has chos

Kael The first breath outside the Abyss is… wrong. Too thin. Too bright. Like trying to breathe sunlight after drowning in ink. I kneel in the ruins of a world that remembers me like an old scar. Black mountains claw at a sky the color of bruised steel, and rivers of molten glass cut veins through dead earth. The air tastes of ash and silence. I know this place. Once, I razed it to bone and echo. Once, I stood on its highest spire and promised the stars I’d never come back. Promises. What fragile little lies. The ground trembles beneath me—not from my weight, but from what moves inside me. The Abyss didn’t just give back what I buried. It gave more. Too much. Every heartbeat now is a drumbeat of war, pulsing with power that hums in my teeth, my bones, my blood. The sky listens. The dead listen. And somewhere, far beyond, the gods flinch. You feel it, don’t you? The voice is softer now, no longer the roar of a storm but the hiss of silk over steel. The hunger. The

Elara The storm begins hours before it reaches us. It isn’t a storm of rain. Not at first. It’s a pulse—a low, trembling hum that runs through the marrow of the world like a warning bell only I can hear. I’m in the high spire of Solara’s citadel when it comes, staring out at the city of light sprawling beneath the glass walls like a constellation carved from living fire. Perfect. Blinding. So different from the Abyss that it almost hurts to look at. And then the hum comes again—stronger this time. And my heart stops. No. Not possible. Not now. But the bond is a cruel thing. You can bury it. You can choke it. You can smother it under years of silence and oceans of blood— But when it wakes, it wakes hungry. The pulse rolls through me like thunder in my veins, and suddenly the glass walls feel too thin. The air feels too bright. My lungs feel like they’ve forgotten how to breathe. Kael. I grip the balustrade hard enough to crack the glass. It splinters under my fi

Elara The wind bites harder the longer I stand there, but I don’t move. Maybe because I can’t. Maybe because the bond is rooting me in place like a tree grown from bone and blood, anchoring me to the horizon I swore I’d never chase again. The hum hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s louder. A low, relentless throb threading through the marrow of my bones, syncing with my pulse until I can’t tell where I end and where Kael begins. It shouldn’t be possible. Not here. Not under Solara’s light, where every bond is supposed to wither and die like a weed burned out by the sun. But Kael has never cared about what’s possible. A laugh slips past my lips, sharp and brittle. Gods, I used to love that about him—the way he spit in the face of every rule, every chain, every throne that tried to bind him. Even mine. Especially mine. Now it terrifies me. Because if he can tear through the Veil, he can tear through this world. Through me. And the worst part? Some traitorous, hollow par