Alle Kapitel von Reborn Luna: Kapitel 121 – Kapitel 130

CamilleThe field is still damp with morning dew, blades of grass brushing against my boots as I stride across the expanse where the enforcers gather. Their voices—low, clipped, focused—carry easily in the cool air. They’re sparring, checking weapons, doing the monotonous tasks that keep the pack’s backbone sharp.But their scouts should’ve been back an hour ago.I find Rhys first. Hard to miss the bastard. He stands like a mountain—tall, broad, with dark hair that the breeze can’t seem to ruffle and those storm-grey eyes that track everything. Right now, he’s facing two enforcers who shift uneasily under his stare.When he sees me, he dismisses them with a flick of his fingers. “Sire.”“Tell me you have something.”Rhys shakes his head once. “The scouts haven’t returned. No sign of them yet. We’re keeping a perimeter watch, but—” His jaw tightens. “It’s unusual.”It is. Our scouts aren’t green.I cross my arms over my chest. “Do we know where they last checked in?”“Near the north bo

KeithThe envelope sits on my desk like it carries a curse. Thick ivory cardstock, royal seal pressed so deep the gold wax looks like it’s bleeding. I don’t touch it. Not yet. Touching it would mean acknowledging it, and acknowledging it would mean accepting what it implies—Camille thinks he can summon me.Like a dog. Like I haven’t already seen what he truly is.Jace drops it in front of me anyway. “It’s addressed to you,” he says.I stare at the seal again. My fingers twitch. My beast rumbles beneath my skin, pacing, snarling, claws scraping at my insides. He wants blood. Royal blood.He wants Camille.Because we finally know what he did to the Night Shade pack. The exile. The scheming. The attempt at extermination. And worst of all—Hope. My Hope.And my own unintentional involvement in her death.Or so he wants me to believe.The bond pulses in my chest, still stronger since that dream.The memory of her falling to the ground hits again like a punch to the ribs. My breath slips for

LinaI keep my head down as I move around Lady Elira’s room, dusting shelves, straightening pillows, and gathering the discarded shawls she leaves draped wherever she pleases.She sits primly near the hearth, spine straight as a spear, lifting her teacup with perfect grace. Mira lounges beside her, her glossy black and grey hair arranged in an elaborate twist, while Cecily and Maren sit opposite, pretending to occupy themselves with embroidery.But the moment I walked in, I felt it—the tension, thick enough to choke on. They were talking about something important before I arrived. Important, and dangerous. And now they’re waiting for me to leave.I move faster, letting my footsteps fall soft as I’ve trained myself to do since I was old enough to sneak past drunken guards in the Silver Fang village. Elira’s people never notice the way I fade into corners. They see only a small maid, quiet and harmless.Good. Let them.“—the engagement announcement will be made tomorrow evening,” Mira s

JaceAn hour later, the interrogation room smells like steel and tension.Alpha Clinton sits across from the part-Lycan prisoner, elbows on the metal table, expression carved from stone. Keith watches from the corner, arms folded, Stevie on his left. I stand beside the door like a silent storm cloud, and I take my assigned place at the wall behind the prisoner—close enough that he feels me, far enough that he doesn’t think I’m looming.The prisoner won’t look at Clinton. He stares straight ahead, jaw hard.“Let’s start with something easy,” Clinton says, voice deceptively calm. “Why were you three watching the Nightshade pack?”Silence.Clinton tries again. “You weren’t acting on your own. Someone sent you. Someone with enough power to order a surveillance operation on a royal-protected pack.”Still nothing.Keith’s voice cuts in, quiet but sharp. “We’re not here to torture you. We want answers. This doesn’t have to be difficult.”The part-Lycan snorts. “Everything with wolves is diff

HopeCamille’s office is warmer than anywhere else in the castle, maybe because he keeps a fire burning even when the rest of the halls are freezing. Or maybe it’s because he is here, sitting across from me with that unreadable calm that always makes me wonder what he’s hiding and what he wants me to think he’s hiding. I sit in the armchair opposite him, my fingers curled around a mug of tea I’m not drinking. Tomorrow is the announcement. Tomorrow everything changes—again.He watches me over the rim of his own cup. “You’re quiet,” he says. His voice is steady, deep, that controlled rumble that could be comforting if I didn’t know the weight behind it. “Are you nervous?”“A little bit,” I admit. Lying seems pointless here. Besides, he somehow knows when I do—it’s uncanny, like he can smell it on me. “I don’t know… exactly how I’m supposed to act.”Camille sets his cup down, leaning back in his chair. The firelight throws warm gold along the edges of his face, softening angles that are