All Chapters of Luna’s Rebellion : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The mountain trembled beneath the First Beast’s weight. It was gargantuan—taller than the trees that grew on the spine of the world. Its black fur shimmered with starlight, and its eyes were twin voids ringed with silver fire. It growled once, low and earth-shattering, and even Necros took a step back. But it wasn’t looking at him. It was looking at her. The cloaked woman stepped from the mist, the hem of her cloak dragging frost behind her. Her face was hidden beneath a silver hood, but the energy rolling off her was ancient—older than Elara, older than the relics, older maybe even than the gods. She raised a hand. The Beast lowered its head in deference. Necros hissed. “You’re dead.” The woman’s voice cut the air like a blade. “You wished I was.” She turned to me. “Elara, daughter of Moonblood,” she said. “You’ve burned the bond. Broken the relic. And yet still… you stand.” I swallowed. “Who are you?” She pulled back her hood. And my heart stopped. Because the woman be

The world on the other side of the Gate wasn’t a world at all. It was a memory twisted into matter—a realm of flickering echoes and bleeding stars. The ground was obsidian glass that pulsed with every one of my heartbeats. The air shimmered with silver fog, heavy with whispers. Time didn’t move here; it watched. And I was alone. Almost. Footsteps approached—soundless, yet unmistakable. The Forgotten. They came forward, their forms trailing wisps of cosmic night, faces cloaked in featureless void. And yet, I knew them. I felt them in the marrow of my soul—creators, destroyers, and betrayers of all that came after. One stepped ahead of the others. Taller. Heavier with power. The void at the center of his face swirled, forming an outline that mirrored mine. “You came,” he said, in a voice that wasn’t spoken but inherited. “I’m not yours,” I said. “Child,” he corrected gently, “you are ours by design. You carry the breath of the first Luna—the echo of Nyx herself. You are the se

I stood in the center of the scorched clearing, the aftermath of the battle scattered around me like broken promises. Smoke curled from the earth, and the scent of ash clung to my skin. The power that had surged through me—Nyx’s power—hadn’t left. It clung to me, cold and electric, like frostbite beneath the surface. My body still trembled with it. My eyes had changed. I could feel it. Where once they were storm-grey, now they shimmered with a violet hue, flecks of starlight threading through the color like celestial veins. Every breath I took reverberated like a note held too long on a string not meant to be played. And the silence… it wasn’t peace. It was waiting. Holding its breath. Kael approached slowly, sword still drawn. Blood streaked across his cheek, like war paint smeared in a hurry. But it wasn’t the blood that struck me—it was the way he looked at me. Cautious. Wary. Like I was something he used to love, but now wasn’t sure he should touch. “Elara,” he said ge

The air didn’t just sting—it burned. Not like fire. Worse. It was like trying to breathe in a memory. A terrible one. The kind soaked in blood and fear and things that should’ve stayed buried. I stood frozen, fingers curling into my palms just to stay grounded. The First Watcher towered before me, cloaked in obsidian like he was royalty in a kingdom of nightmares. His smile was calm—but predatory. Calculating. His eyes weren’t amber anymore. They were red. Dark and gleaming, like ruin had found a way to take form. “What do you mean, ‘Welcome home’?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady. “This isn’t my home.” “It was,” he said, and his voice rippled with something ancient and heavy. “Once. Long ago. Before the lies, before the sealing, before the world forgot who you were.” I took a cautious step back. My skin prickled. My instincts screamed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tilted his head. “Don’t you?” I shook mine slowly. “You were not born in the Crescen

I stood at the edge of the stone cliff, the wind shrieking around me like it wanted to peel the skin from my bones. My hair lashed wildly across my face, tangling in my lashes, but I didn’t move to brush it back. The blood moon hung low and heavy above the treetops—red and full, like a wound in the sky. It painted everything in silver and crimson. I didn’t feel the cold. The storm wasn’t outside. It was inside me. Ever since I walked out of the Council chambers, my wolf had been whispering again—no, growling. Clawing. Her voice was deeper now, rougher around the edges, like she’d evolved while I wasn’t listening. “They’re watching us.” “They fear us.” “They will betray us again.” And I believed her. The Elders had stared at me like I was something feral. Something they’d failed to contain. Not just a threat to their power—but a symbol of change they couldn’t control. “They’re going to come for me,” I murmured, voice nearly lost to the wind. “Let them.” My wolf snarled inside