Semua Bab The White Wolf Luna: Bab 161 - Bab 170

The candle burned low in its holder, wax dripping down the bronze stand until it pooled across the polished wood of the historian’s desk. Selene sat motionless, her silver eyes reflecting the last line of the scroll as though the words themselves had imprinted upon her. The library, vast and silent, seemed to breathe with her, its rows of shelves rising like walls that enclosed her in the weight of everything she had just read.Her fingers remained pressed to the parchment long after she had reached its end, tracing the final sentence again and again as if repetition might force the ink to yield some deeper truth. He did not bow. He did not break. He walked alone, yet the moon walked with him. The phrase struck her with a force that was almost unbearable, because it did not feel like the closing of a story, but the echo of her own.Selene drew in a long breath, but the air was thick, heavy with the scent of parchment and wax, and when she exhaled it trembled. She felt her heart strain

The silence that followed Selene’s words was unlike anything she had ever known. It was not the quiet of peace, nor the hush before dawn, but a silence carved sharp, as though the entire Pack held its breath, afraid that any sound might shatter what they had just witnessed. The moon’s glow lingered on her fur, silver bright, and in that light the hollow seemed transformed, every shadow drawn back, every eye fixed upon her as if she were no longer just Selene of the Silver Moon, but something greater, something both feared and needed.Her chest heaved with the force of her breaths, the sting of her wounds raw along her flank, yet she stood unyielding, her silver eyes locked upon the Elders. She expected them to speak at once, to condemn her, to twist what they had seen into something convenient for their law, but none of them moved. Their silence betrayed what they would not admit aloud: they had not expected this.Orin, massive and scarred, remained crouched across from her, his body

The cell was little more than a carved hollow in the rock, its walls damp from the night’s chill and its only light the thin shaft of dawn that filtered through a narrow slit above. The air smelled of stone and rust, and the silence pressed against Selene’s chest more heavily than the bandages wound tight around her ribs. She sat on the cot of rough straw, her fingers tracing the lines of the stone beneath her, every sound beyond the door muffled, every second dragging toward dusk like a noose tightening.She had expected solitude, but solitude did not last.The scrape of iron broke the silence, the lock resisting before it gave way, and the door swung inward. Rowan filled the frame, his shoulders brushing the stone as though the cell itself was too small to contain him. His eyes burned with the same fire she had seen in the council hall, unyielding, dangerous, his jaw set as though he had bitten back every word until now.“You should not be here,” Selene whispered, though her chest e

The stone walls of the confinement cell bled cold into the air, each block slick with dampness from the mountain’s hidden veins. A single slit in the ceiling allowed the faintest shaft of moonlight to filter in, not enough to illuminate the space, only enough to remind Selene of what waited above. The silence of the place was not natural; it had weight, as though the very stones were listening, recording every breath, every word, every heartbeat.Selene sat on the narrow bench carved into the wall, her fingers tracing the lines of the pendant that still rested at her collarbone. The silver crescent had grown warm, not with the gentle reassurance she had once known, but with a heavy pulse, as if it too anticipated the judgment that loomed. Across from her, Rowan leaned against the opposite wall, his arms folded, his shadow stretching long against the floor. His expression carried the same tension that had haunted him since the Elders summoned her, quiet fury held in check, like a blade

The horn’s cry lingered in the council chamber, deep and resonant, rattling the torches in their sconces and silencing every voice at once. Selene felt it in her chest, a low vibration that seemed to shake her bones apart. No one mistook the meaning of such a sound. It was the call of alarm, one that had not been heard within Silver Moon territory in decades.The guards by the door snapped to attention, their hands going to the hilts of their blades, ears straining for a second note. The Elders exchanged glances that cracked their mask of calm, even if only for a moment. Tradition had governed this chamber for centuries, but tradition could not ignore a horn.High Elder Veynar’s face darkened as he rose from his seat. His voice, though sharp, could not hide the unease beneath it. “Who dares to sound the horn during council?” His words struck the silence like flint on stone. “Bring the caller before us.”One of the guards slipped through the heavy doors, his boots echoing down the corr