บททั้งหมดของ CHASING HIS LUNA BACK: บทที่ 201 - บทที่ 210

Aurelia's point of viewDamien was faster than I expected. Draco’s hand shot toward me, fingers crooked like talons, energy spiraling at the tips. I felt the pull before I saw the motion, a force that wanted to drag the breath out of my lungs. But Damien stepped in front of me, like he had always been standing there, sword raised to deflect. His blade caught the magic too late. The explosion hit him at an angle, fire bursting against his ribs. The Alpha King staggered backward, smoke curling off his armor, and for the first time since I met him, I saw Damien bleed. His eyes went wide, body trembling from the impact. I grabbed him before he could fall and whispered his name, but Draco laughed.“Your King still tries to die for you,” he hissed, stepping closer. “A shame he was always too weak to claim you.”His voice dripped with poison. It was not the roar of an enemy; it was the whisper of a serpent in a child’s ear. Damien spit blood, straightening, and faced Draco. “You will not tou

Aurelia's point of viewThe mist wrapped itself around me like wet silk, dense enough to taste on my tongue. It wasn’t ordinary fog. It carried whispers, the faint sound of breathless pleas and dying wolves, as if every tortured soul Draco had ever claimed still lived within it. I could not hear Silas, or Damien, or the cries of the battlefield. I could only hear the drip of water somewhere in the emptiness… and Draco’s slow, deliberate footsteps.He circled me like a vulture who found a wounded deer. His eyes glowed a muted violet, more human than beast, and that scared me more than anything. Because I knew he was not a wolf, not what we were. He was something stitched together from curses and vengeance, wearing a man’s body like a borrowed coat.“You walk into your own grave so willingly,” he murmured. “I suppose I should applaud the courage of it.”I stood straight. My heart didn’t quiver the way he hoped. “Courage and desperation are not the same.”He laughed... soft, elegant, hat

Aurelia's point of viewDraco’s roar shivered through the mist, and mine answered it. The moment our blades collided, the world around us trembled like something ancient waking under the soil. Metal shrieked. Air cracked. Time itself writhed.Draco lashed his hand in a crescent, and the dirt tore from beneath our feet, rising like walls of black marble. I dodged left, slamming my claws into the stone, anchoring myself before his second strike carved through the air.“You were not meant to fight me,” he snarled. “You were meant to stand beside me.”His voice echoed in seven different tones were old, young, monstrous, pleading the kind of mind poison he had whispered to thousands. It was meant to work on me as well.I attacked instead. My claws flashed across his sternum, slicing open the flesh he’d just healed. His blood hissed like acid when it hit the ground. He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me until my feet dangled.“You are the future,” he growled. “The first full creature bo

Aurelia's point of viewThe world felt like it had been hollowed out. Noise returned slowly, like a tide coming back to shore after being pulled to the moon. I could hear the clashing of metal, the cries of dying witches, the sound of wolves panting for air. Yet my body was weightless, as if someone had uprooted me from my own bones. I stared at the place where Draco once stood, the fog thinning into nothing, leaving behind a crater of scorched earth. The sealing runes still flickered beneath my skin in faint silver lines. They pulsed like a heartbeat. His heartbeat. His curse. Bianca’s legacy. I did not know which one terrified me more.Silas was the first face I recognized. His arms caught me before my knees hit the ground. He was trembling. He whispered my name as though it was the only word he knew. His forehead pressed against mine and I felt the heat of his breath, the smell of blood and dirt and smoke. I wanted to tell him I was fine. I wanted to lie the way warriors lie to the

Aurelia's point of viewYears pass differently when the war ends. In the days before Draco, time was an enemy that stalked my heart. Every sunrise felt like a reminder that something terrible waited in the dark. Every night was a dream of losing what little I had found. After the coronation, after the ash settled and the dead were buried with more honor than any king had ever given them, time became gentle. It stopped clawing at me and began to wrap around my days softly, like the warm tail of a sleeping wolf around her cubs.The palace we built was nothing like Damien’s. No marble floors that echoed like accusations, no gilded balconies that separated kings from the people who bled beneath them. Silas insisted every hall be wide and framed with forest wood, so pups could run and chase each other without fear of guards shouting at them. I insisted the witches have their own sanctum in the west wing, not beneath it, not outside the walls. Those who survived Draco’s coven became teacher