All Chapters of The Broken Luna Returns: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

(Selene’s POV)I didn’t answer right away.The words echoed louder than anything else. Louder than the wind slipping through broken stone. Louder than my own breathing.I stared at the darkened sigil, my chest tight, my hands cold.“So that’s it,” I said quietly. “I’m the one preventing it from escaping? Just a lock?”Fenrir’s grip on my hand tightened, just a fraction. Not possessive. Protective. Like he was anchoring me to the ground in case I drifted apart.“You’re more than that,” he said immediately.“But that’s what I am to this world,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “A solution. A tool.”“No,” Winter cut in sharply. “You’re a person who was forced into a role.”I looked at him. “Does that difference matter when the outcome is the same?”No one answered.Gabriel finally broke the silence. “Selene… the reason matters.”“Does it?” I asked. “Because all I hear is that if I fail—or if I walk away—something terrible gets loose.”“That’s not fair,” Fenrir said, anger flicke

(Selene’s POV)The archives smelled like old rain and silver dust.That was the first thing I noticed as we stepped inside—rows upon rows of towering shelves carved directly into living stone, each lined with crystal tablets, scrolls bound in pale leather, and floating glyphs that drifted slowly like lazy fireflies. Soft light glowed from the walls, lighting the dimly lit place.“This place is restricted,” the elder said as she led us in. “Many of these records haven’t been touched in centuries.”Fenrir walked beside me, his presence steady. I could feel his magic faintly now—not flaring, not guarded. Calm. Familiar. Like he was finally standing on ground that recognized him.Winter let out a low whistle. “Okay, I take it back. This is officially the coolest library I’ve ever almost died to reach.”Oragon shot him a look. “Focus.”We were guided to a circular chamber at the heart of the archives. A single table waited there, grown from silverwood, its surface etched with slow-moving r

(Selene’s POV)I rested my hands on the stone railing, trying to steady my thoughts. Fenrir stood beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. He didn’t crowd me. He never did. But his presence was solid, grounding, like an anchor I didn’t realize I’d been clinging to.Below us, the Elven Capital unfolded in layers of white stone and living wood. Bridges curved like ribbons between towers grown, built from ancient trees. Soft lights floated through the air, sustained by magic older than most kingdoms.All I can say is that it’s beautiful.And yet…“It feels wrong,” I murmured.Fenrir didn’t ask what I meant. “Yes,” he said quietly. “It does.”We’d arrived only an hour ago, escorted through hidden mountain paths and illusion-veiled gates that responded to Fenrir’s blood and magic. No alarms had sounded. No guards had stopped us. That alone unsettled me.The Elven Capital was never unguarded.Behind us, Gabriel spoke in a low voice with Oragon and Winter, already discussin

(Selene’s POV)The Elven Capital proved its lister stayed even at the midnight.Even as night settled, the city glowed softly, lanterns floating like fireflies between silver trees, bridges arched with living vines that shimmered faintly with magic. From the balcony where I stood, I could see spires rising through the mist, their carvings catching moonlight like polished glass.It was beautiful.And overwhelming.I rested my hands on the stone railing, letting the coolness ground me. After everything we learned in the archives, my thoughts refused to slow down. Anchor. Chain. Warden. None of the words sat right in my chest, but they wouldn’t leave either.Footsteps approached behind me, quiet, measured.I didn’t need to turn to know it was Fenrir.“You should be resting,” he said gently.“So should you,” I replied.He stopped beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. “Old habits. I keep watch better than I sleep.”I glanced at him. His expression was calm, but I could

(Selene’s POV)The grove did not disappear when the elven sentinel finished speaking.It stayed, quiet, breathing, like it was listening.I stood at the center of the clearing, unsure whether I was supposed to kneel, speak, or run. But none of my instincts agreed.Fenrir was still beside me. I didn’t look at him at first, but I felt him there. That alone kept the panic from taking over me.The elven sentinel straightened, folding his hands behind his back. “My name is Elarion,” he said. “Keeper of the Grove and witness to forgotten vows.”Winter muttered, “Of course you are,” under his breath.Elarion ignored him.“Selene,” he continued, addressing me directly. “You were never meant to be erased. Your memories were sealed, not destroyed. There is a difference.”My throat tightened. “Then why can’t I remember?”“Because remembering too early would have shattered you,” he replied calmly. “The Wardens were not forged for power. They were chosen for stability. Even so, many did not surviv