Semua Bab Queen Luna: Once Rejected, Now Ruthless: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Khy roared with laughter. “She bites! I like her already!”That night we danced…because why not? I am their future Queen Luna.The doors swung open with a deep, thunderous creak, and suddenly we were swallowed by the grandeur of the Stonefang mansion’s great hall. My breath caught—not from nerves, but from the sheer extravagance of it all. The ancient stone walls bore the weight of history, adorned with crimson-and-gold tapestries that fluttered gently in the draft. Scenes of past battles—wolves mid-snarl, warriors in armor, bloodied swords clashing—danced in silver thread.Twin hearths roared on either side, bathing the room in a golden glow that made the jeweled goblets and polished bronze plates glint like treasure. Long tables groaned under the weight of food: roast boar with crackling skin, platters of forest berries, pies that oozed golden custard when sliced, entire wheels of cheese, and breads so soft they sighed when torn. Goblets overflowed with wine, honey mead, and somethi

THE CATHEDRAL.Let me describe it in two words: Gothic opulence.Massive arched stained-glass windows depicting wolves and queens. Dozens of hovering golden candles. Pew after pew of power—alpha kings, human royals, senators, Lunas, witches in couture, and even two vampire ambassadors sipping rose-gold wine like it was normal.The aisle was long enough to qualify as a pilgrimage.And when I walked it, arm in arm with the High Priestess of Moonlight, every single person stood.I saw faces I hadn’t seen since the academy. Enemies. Friends. Jealous exes. One girl who once said I smelled like potatoes? She was now bowing. (Take that, Gina.)At the end of the aisle stood him.King Edric Moon.In black and red formal Highland dress. A crown of ironwood branches and moonstone on his head. His wolf eyes locked on me like the world had stopped turning and started howling instead.He took my hand, kissed it, then turned to the gathered crowd. “This is my Luna. My Queen. The flame I searched for

My tight passage burned like lava, and his tongue was like delicious ice driving inside. It twirled and thrust deeper, caressing my walls sweetly and dangerously. Pleasure rocked to my nerve endings, and my body trembled.When he thumbed my aching clit without care and his tongue fucked me harder and harder, I exploded unexpectedly. I raised my torso to grab his silky hair and watched him drink my juices greedily.Was this kind of foreplay leading up to dirty sex? I looked forward to more dirty stuff. He extracted his tongue. Before I could grunt my displeasure, two of his fingers pushed into my heated channel. That was nice too, and my moans picked up. My king finger-fucked me rapidly and watched my reaction with fascination.I rocked my hips and rode his fingers to create more friction.“Come for me, love,” he commanded.I didn’t want to come again so soon, but at his command, my body obeyed. My folds throbbed, and my inner walls clenched his fingers as a wave of orgasm spread.The

ALDRIAN WINDSOR’S POV – The air was thick. Not with mist, not with fog, but with pure, suffocating evil.We had reached the center of the cursed grove after days of blood, sweat, and arguments that made me regret not marrying a tree instead of Lana. The clearing pulsed with unnatural life — vines moved like snakes, eyes blinked in bark, and the sky above seemed to rot.In the middle stood Florence, the High Witch of the Coven of Witherthorn, draped in obsidian robes that shimmered with veins of red.Her voice was like bone grinding against stone. “Do you bring what was asked?”I dropped the sack. The heartroot flower, covered in crocodile blood. A vial of The Ashen Bone of the First Shifter stolen from the Black Market. The Tear of the Forgotten Moon from the goblin. A feather from a crow that never flies. And… a drop of Luna blood. Mine.Florence cackled. “Foolish, angry, broken. Just what the darkness loves.”She began chanting. The earth groaned. The trees screamed.Lana backed u

Fidel’s POVWindsor PackThe wind that swept through the ruins of the Windsor Pack no longer smelled of hope.It smelled of ash… and endings.I stood just outside our once-busy clinic—Moonshade Healing House, carved from the oldest trees in the forest, wrapped in ancient ivy and whispers of a time when this pack was alive. When wolves howled not out of grief, but joy. Now, the halls were silent.Only Lana remained inside. Groaning in pain, one arm bandaged in layers of healing bark, salves, and regret.My wife, Malda, stood beside me, her eyes tired. Wrinkles that didn’t exist before the war had bloomed like vines across her face. She still tried to keep that warm healer’s smile. But neither of us were healers now.We were keepers of a secret.And guilt.“She’s getting worse,” Malda murmured, eyes on the dark clouds rolling above the forest. “The wound’s cursed. Whatever Aldrian’s become… it’s not of this world anymore.”I didn’t answer right away.Instead, my eyes flicked up to the h