Lahat ng Kabanata ng MOONBOUND DESIRE : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 58

The forest had gone quiet.Not silent—but reverent. The kind of hush that clung to sacred places, like breath held before the divine. As the final night of the Blood Moon reached its zenith, even the wind seemed to bend around the sacred grove. The flames around the circle shimmered, caught between gold and crimson, flickering like they recognized the soul standing within them.Elira stood tall, her skin luminous under the moon’s fierce gaze. The markings along her arms had deepened, no longer the thin runes of the Hollow, but wider, rooted symbols pulsing with energy older than her lineage. Her eyes had changed too—once soft starlight, now moonsilver rimmed in ember.And yet—she was still Elira.Still the woman who had burned for justice.Still the girl who had once wanted to run.But now she carried the weight of something far greater.Something elemental.Theron stood just behind her, hands curled into fists, jaw set as he watched the Revenants surrounding the grove. They moved slo

The waves rolled in a rhythm older than time, carrying with them the murmur of forgotten gods. Aeltharuun pulsed with quiet life beneath the starlit waters above, each ripple of the ocean sky overhead reminding Elira that she was no longer in any realm she had known.She stood on the island’s high ridge, barefoot, wind cutting through her cloak as sea-mist clung to her skin. The Seabound had led her to a place they called The Heart of the Drowned. It was not a place of worship—it was a place of reckoning.Below her, nestled in the center of the isle’s lagoon, floated a massive circular platform of blackstone and pearl. Sigils carved into its edges glowed faintly in time with her pulse. It was calling to her. Not in words, but in sensation—a magnetic pull in her bones.“You must go alone,” said the Seabound leader, who had since revealed her name: Ysvienne.“I expected that,” Elira replied.Ysvienne studied her. “Once you enter, the memory will unfold. You must walk its path. But know

The fire wouldn’t go out.Elira had tried to smother it with magic, with silence, even with sleep—but still it burned in her chest. Not pain. Not sickness. Just a persistent heat, slow and steady, like her very blood was responding to something far away.She paced the perimeter of the Ember Court at dawn, wind thick with ash and tension. Every step she took echoed too loudly in the stone corridors. Every breath carried the scent of the old blade fragment that pulsed inside her satchel like a second heartbeat.The Rift was stirring.And it was calling her name.---Theron found her in the outer garden, eyes locked on the shifting horizon.“You didn’t sleep.”“I can’t,” she replied without turning. “Every time I close my eyes, I see it.”“The Rift?”She nodded.He took a step closer. “Then we face it. Together.”Elira exhaled. “Theron… What if going to it breaks me?”“What if not going to it breaks the world?”She met his gaze.There were no answers—only choices.And Elira had made hers

The Hollow’s pulse was different now.It didn’t tremble—it listened. As if the land itself was leaning in, waiting to see what Elira would do next.She stood in the old war room beneath the temple’s roots, the map spread out before her like a prophecy waiting to be spoken aloud. The star she had drawn the night before still burned faintly in silver ink, though no one else could see its glow.Theron stood beside her, arms folded, brow furrowed in thought. Naeria moved quietly across the chamber, gathering scrolls older than the Hollow itself. Rowan and Selene sat in the shadows, polishing weapons that might never touch their intended foe. Kael was pacing. As always.“This place,” Elira said, pointing to the distant star, “is older than any city. Older than any empire. It predates the Hollow. Even Aeltharuun.”Naeria’s voice was quiet. “It’s not just a place. It’s a memory. The gods buried it after the War of Names.”Kael paused mid-stride. “And you think that’s where Vyreth’s undoing l