All Chapters of MoonLit Sins: The Curse Of Red Hollow: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Kael’s POVThe air in the Vault tasted like copper and old ghosts. Every breath was a razor. Every step, a silent war between the man I used to be and the thing this cursed world had forced me to become.Lyra was gone and yet she was everywhere. Her voice whispered in the cracks of these ancient walls. Her magic thrummed beneath my skin, through the shard of Athyra I carried at my hip, the last piece of her, still alive, still burning. I stood before the Vault’s heart now. A monolith of obsidian and cursed silver. Pulsing. Breathing. Feeding off the remnants of Selene’s broken army.The shattered souls of traitors and gods alike spun in its orbit, twisted into unrecognizable fragments and among them I saw it. Selene’s face, half-burnt, half-smiling, as if death itself had bent for her.“Still chasing her ghost, Kael?” Her voice slithered from the Vault. “You always did prefer your women tragic.”I didn’t answer. She wasn’t real not anymore but this place was, and it needed to die. My

Lyra’s POVThey say when you die, you find peace but no one tells you what happens when you die angry. I was ashes, scattered into the lungs of those who had once tried to chain me. My body was gone. My pulse was a memory but I was still here.Floating.Lingering.Watching Kael as he stormed through Red Hollow like a man possessed, a man who had nothing left to lose except the promise he made to me.“You’ll be the Queen they’ll never deserve.” but I wasn’t here to wear a crown anymore. Still, he carried me. In his scars. In his war-roughened voice when he said my name.Kael didn’t know I could still hear him. He didn’t know that every time he touched the Thornbane dagger, every time he pressed his hand against the war table, I felt it. I wasn’t alive but I wasn’t done because Unmakers don’t get peaceful endings. We get legacies.The Council thought they had silenced me but in the cracks of the city, where whispers traveled faster than laws, my name was growing. Thornbane’s Rebellion,

Kael’s POVRed Hollow didn’t heal overnight, scars like these don’t fade, they become a part of you but that’s the thing about scars, they prove you survived.It had been three months since we toppled the Regent. Three months of dismantling his decrees, his blood-pact laws, and those wretched purity codes that once dictated who was worthy of power. Now, power had no throne.It walked the streets, it bled, it rebuilt, It remembered.I stood in the Rotunda, staring at what used to be the Council Chamber. Gone were the gold-laced thrones, gone were the marble statues of long-dead rulers pretending they mattered.In their place? A circular table, one where no seat sat higher than the others. Selene’s portrait had been ripped from the wall. Burned. I had tossed the first flame.“Kael.”Selene’s old assistant Mira, a soft-spoken witch with a sharp wit, approached with scrolls under her arm. She looked exhausted, but her eyes burned with purpose.“The East Wards are secure,” she said. “And t

Kael’s POVGrief is a cruel thing. It doesn’t announce itself. It slips in through the cracks, between breath, in the way you tie a blade’s leather strap, or how you can’t seem to look at the sunrise without feeling like a fraud. It had been thirty-nine days since Lyra's ashes were scattered over Red Hollow. Thirty-nine days of pretending the city wasn’t mourning a queen who never got to sit on her throne and thirty-nine days of me pretending that I hadn’t died with her. I’d been training recruits in the southern barracks, throwing blades into dummies with more force than necessary, when she appeared.Mira Thane.She wasn’t Lyra but the gods knew she didn’t care.Mira had sharp grey eyes that didn’t flinch when I glared at her, a mouth that seemed permanently stuck in a smirk, and a way of walking that suggested she could stab you or save you, depending on her mood.“You train like you’re punishing ghosts,” she said, arms folded.I didn’t look at her. “I don’t train for company.”“Goo

Kael’s POVRed Hollow had learned how to breathe again. I hadn’t. The city, with its repaired walls and fresh banners, stood as if it had never burned. As if the war, the gods, and the graves we left behind were all just rumors whispered by bitter winds. But beneath that veil of peace, ghosts lived in every stone.And Lyra was the loudest of them all. Her name never left my lips. But it never left my chest either. It sat there, anchored, sharp, twisting whenever I passed the old council hall or saw a flame flicker the wrong way."You look like a man haunted by a queen," a soft voice said behind me.I didn’t need to turn. I’d know Aeris's voice anywhere now. She had a way of standing still and yet unsettling the air around her.“You always this subtle, Aeris?” I muttered, eyes still on the skyline.“I’ve been told,” she said, stepping up beside me, “that subtlety is wasted on men who enjoy their brooding.”That forced a short, dry laugh out of me. “Guilty.”The silence after wasn’t unc