All Chapters of The Broken Luna Returns: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

(Selene’s POV) Darkness didn’t take me gently this time.It yanked me under.The world spun in and out like someone kept switching a light on and off. My body felt far away, like I wasn’t in it at all, just floating somewhere between pain and heat and nothingness.Voices echoed around me, panicked and extremely distorted.“Her aura is collapsing—”“Winter, stabilize the field!”“Fenrir—Fenrir, you have to step back—”“No. I’m not leaving her.”Fenrir. I wanted to call out but I couldn’t find my own voice.Something warm pressed against my cheek. Like a thumb brushing gently. And the a hand held mine like the person was afraid I’d slip away if he let go for even a second.“Selene… you have to fight it,” he whispered. “Come back.”I tried.Goddess, I tried.But something was wrong.There was a pressure inside me—like two forces slamming against each other, fighting for space. My chest tightened. My breath caught.What is this…?Another voice stirred, softer, closer.Not outside.Inside

(Selene’s POV)The wind was the first thing I felt.Cool. Clean. Nothing like the choking air beneath the ruins.When my eyes finally adjusted, I realized we were outside—on the ridge overlooking the old forest. The ground was dusted with frost, and the early morning light stretched across the mountains in a soft gold wash.I was lying on a blanket Fenrir must have set down for me. Winter and Oragon stood a few feet away, talking quietly over a portable scanner. Gabriel was pacing with a tablet, eyes narrowed and tense, but—for once—nothing was attacking us.Just the sound of wind.Just quiet.Fenrir sat beside me, his back resting against a tree, long cloak draped loosely over his shoulders. His silver hair caught the sunlight, glowing faintly with that ethereal shimmer only elves had. His ears, normally hidden, were uncovered now—sharp, elegant, and twitching slightly with every breeze.I swallowed softly. “Fenrir?”His head turned instantly. “Selene.”The relief in his voice was un

(Selene’s POV)The Ancient Archives were colder than I expected.Not an unpleasant cold, though ti was dreadfully quiet to say the least. The kind of quietness that seemed to stem from stone that had existed long before anyone alive remembered warmth. The air smelled faintly of dust and something sharper, like ink mixed with metal.The doors closed behind us with a low, echoing sound.Lysara led the way without speaking. Her steps were light, practiced, like she had walked these halls her entire life. The walls curved inward, carved with glowing lines that shifted slowly, as if the stone itself was breathing.I kept my hands close to my sides.Fenrir noticed.“You’re safe here,” he said softly, not looking at me but close enough that only I could hear. “The wards won’t harm you.”“That’s not what I’m worried about,” I replied just as quietly.He glanced at me then, his eyes searching my face. I gave him a small shake of my head, telling him not to press. He seemed to understand, becau

(Selene’s POV)The guest quarters overlooked the inner groves and terraced gardens spiralled downward, lit by floating motes of pale gold. From up here, the Elven Capital breathed like something alive. Leaves shifted without wind. Stone hummed softly beneath my feet.I sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded, trying to steady my thoughts.Fenrir stood near the open balcony doors, speaking quietly with Lysara. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but soon enough, Lysara excused herself.When Fenrir turned back to me, the weight he carried was more visible. Not fear. Responsibility.“They’ll allow us limited archive access,” he said. “Only the surface tiers.”“Surface is better than nothing,” I replied.He smiled faintly. “You’re adapting too quickly to politics.”“I’ve had good teachers,” I said, thinking of Gabriel—and of Fenrir, whether he liked it or not.A soft chime echoed through the room before either of us could say more. The doors opened, and a woman stepped inside w

(Selene’s POV)The Elven Capital looked different at night.In daylight, everything felt open and gentle, sunlight filtering through leaves, magic humming softly in the air. But at night, the city revealed its age. Lanterns made of living crystal glowed along suspended bridges. Towers grown from stone and wood curved toward the stars, their surfaces etched with old runes that pulsed slowly, like breathing.I stood on a balcony outside the guest quarters, wrapped in a light cloak Fenrir had insisted I wear. The night air was cool but comforting. Below, the city moved quietly. Elves passed one another without urgency, voices low, steps measured. It felt like a place that had learned patience over centuries.Behind me, the door opened.“You should be resting,” Fenrir said gently.“I was,” I replied. “Then my thoughts got loud.”He stepped beside me, resting his forearms on the railing. For a moment, neither of us spoke.“You didn’t tell them everything,” I said at last.He didn’t pretend