Semua Bab Reborn Luna: Bab 201 - Bab 210

CamilleThe forest is too quiet for an exchange like this.Part of me believed that we would be dealing with a trail of warriors from the settlement fighting for their pups already.I stand at the halfway point between our territory and the disputed borderlands, boots planted in the frost-bitten earth, pine sap thick in the air. My warriors form a crescent behind me—silent, disciplined, waiting for my command.Inside me, my lycan shifts restlessly.This is wrong, he growls, low and constant beneath my ribs. Something does not feel right.I ignore him.Across the clearing, I scent them before I see them—Dain and Varek. Sweat. Blood. Fear that doesn’t belong to them.They emerge from the tree line with their unit, shadows moving between shadows.And behind them—Children.My jaw tightens.Four juveniles. Three little ones who can’t be more than six winters old.Their hands are bound.The older juveniles position themselves in front of the younger ones immediately, forming a wall with th

SkyThe iron door slams shut behind us with a hollow, final clang that echoes down the stone corridor.The sound settles into my bones.The familiar smells of dirt, rust, and sweat press against my skull like a foot. Every moment of this place reminds me of what it felt like to be helpless.What Elira took from me and so many others.My Lycan presses forward inside me, hackles raised, teeth bared. Cage, he growls. Break it.“I’m working on it,” I mutter under my breath.The holding cell smells like stale earth, mildew, and fear. Old blood lingers beneath the dampness. Chains hang from one wall, bolted deep into stone that’s older than the pack lands we were taken from. There are no windows. Just a narrow slit in the door where a single torch outside throws flickering light across the floor.The guards shove Colt forward last. He stumbles but catches himself before he hits the ground. Mala moves instantly, steadying Rose before she topples over with him.Flynn’s lip wobbles. Lilia hicc

CamilleThis wasn’t part of the plan.That’s the first thought that keeps repeating in my head as the ground trembles faintly beneath my boots.She called our allies, position them to attack when we were supposed to trade.Leverage. Information for children. Pressure without bloodshed.That was the agreement.That was what I told myself when I agreed to this.But the scent drifting through the high windows of our hall tells a different story.Smoke.Ash.Distant violence.I stand in the center of my grandmother’s strategy chamber as she finishes issuing orders to the last of the messengers. The stone walls around us hum with old magic, carved with ancestral markings that once dance around my head like the answer to all my childish fantasies.Now they feel like a cage.When the doors shut, I turn to her.“You weren’t supposed to escalate this.”Grandmother doesn’t look at me immediately. She adjusts the rings on her fingers, silver glinting in the torchlight.“This was not an escalate,

HopeThe medical building smells like antiseptic and iron.Iron from blood. From fear.I sit cross-legged on the thin mat in the corner of the triage room, my palms resting against my knees, eyes closed. Across from me, Emma watches with that steady, assessing gaze of hers. She hasn’t slept much either. None of us have. Not since the children were taken.Not since Elena.“Slow your breathing,” Emma murmurs.I draw in air through my nose, count to four, let it out slowly. My wolf shifts beneath my skin, restless and sharp.You push too hard, she growls softly inside my head.“I don’t have time to go slow,” I whisper back, not caring that Emma can hear me talking to myself. She knows better than anyone what it means.Two days. I’ve spent two days trying to reopen the power link to Elena. It had sparked once—bright, blinding, terrifying—and then snapped like a thread pulled too tight. Since then, nothing but static and a hollow ache behind my ribs.But my gut says we’re close.Close to f

EliraVictory floods my veins as screams tear through the settlement and the clash of steel and claw rings out beneath the blood-red sky. Fire licks at the thatched roofs. Warriors snarl and shift mid-stride, bones cracking, fur ripping through skin as my pack and the Silver Fang Pack carve a path straight through the heart of Keith’s precious territory.This is what I was born for.This is what they all underestimated.“Push forward!” I command, my voice cutting clean through the chaos.My warriors obey instantly. They form a protective arc around me, blades flashing, teeth bared. A wolf lunges from the right—one of Keith’s chiefs—and is intercepted before he can reach me. My warrior tears out his throat with efficient brutality.The metallic scent of blood thickens the air.And beneath it—There.A pulse.Deep. Ancient. Calling to me.The Heart.My lycan stirs, her presence coiling through my mind like silver mist.Closer, she whispers, low and hungry. It beats for us.“I know,” I m