All Chapters of The Luna Lives Again: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

"We need you to go to BlueMont ahead of us," Robbie told Tanya as he stood over the war table we'd set up in the living room. "By myself?" Tanya blinked, eyebrows shooting up. "Are you not joining the fight? Or is this just a suicide mission you thought I'd enjoy?" "We are going," Robbie clarified, not even flinching at her tone, "but it'll take us longer. Every checkpoint along the way will stall us, and by now the rogues must've heard about their general being killed. They'll be in a frenzy. If we want to reduce casualties when we arrive, we need someone to go in and agitate things. Keep their attention scattered." He looked at her pointedly. "And no one stirs the pot better than you." Tanya raised her lip, scoffing. "And I'm supposed to be flattered by that?" "Take it how you want," he said with a shrug. "But you're our best shot." She muttered something under her breath but didn't argue further. "Fine. I get it. Minimize the bloodbath. I'll do it." I stepped forward and han

The thing was ridiculously strong. Robbie charged at it with all the fury of a man trying to keep his people alive—but one swipe from the large overpowered creature sent him flying. He slammed into a tree so hard I swore I heard the bark crack. He hit the ground hard and groaned, rolling onto his side. But instead of fear, I saw rage burn in his eyes. Robbie roared—an outraged, feral cry that shook the misty air. The thing turned on him again, its hulking body hunched and wild-eyed, swiping with a paw that looked like it could flatten a boulder. Its claws were longer than my fingers, each one curved and gleaming even in the dim light. For something so massive, it moved fast—faster than any rogue I'd seen before. But Robbie was faster. He ducked low, just barely dodging a claw that could've taken his head clean off, and retaliated with his own, shorter claws, slicing through fur, drawing blood that hissed like it was tainted. Chris yanked open the Jeep door and dragged me inside, sl

Some things were just really shitty ideas—and I felt this was kind of one of them. But I don't question Bonnie. My stomach twisted as I walked through the prison sector, the air thick with the stench of rust, sweat, and desperation. The whole place reeked of rot—of cruelty—of everything I hated about the rogues. And I was surrounded by them. Dressed like them. Talking like them. Breathing the same air as them. I knew my way around, sure. I'd been trained for this. Taught every rule, every phrase, how to walk, how to stand, how to snarl like I gave a shit. I was the perfect spy on paper. But it didn't stop my nerves from screaming, get out get out get out. First mission or not, I couldn't let any of it show. Blend in. Lay low. Act like the biggest bitch in the room. I could do that. "Why're you standing there?! There's a scuffle in the yard!" another guard barked, yanking my arm like she had any right. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath. So much for laying low. I jogged after h

We finally arrived at the edge of BlueMont territory the next day, with General Oliver leading the way. I thought I'd prepared myself for what we might see—but the second I laid eyes on the slums, I realized I hadn't prepared enough. The place was barely recognizable. Whole blocks had crumbled into nothing but piles of broken brick and warped metal. Buildings I remembered as old but standing were now flattened entirely, like something massive had torn through them. The sun was only half-visible behind an oily curtain of black fog that clung to the sky like smoke from a thousand fires that had never stopped burning. The train depot—once noisy, bustling—was just a ruin now. Twisted steel, shattered glass, like a beast had rammed straight through it and left nothing but wreckage. Even the weeds were wilting. There wasn't a green leaf in sight. Just brown stems and dying brush crushed beneath silence. And the silence was the worst part of all. No kids laughing yet. No arguing neighbo

The moment I stopped beating Lina, I realized my hands were trembling—not from exhaustion, but from restraint. I could've kept going. I wanted to keep going. That bitch had sent someone to kidnap and kill me. She put a price on my life and sent a walking corpse to do the job. She tried to erase me just so she could prance around in the life I was meant to have. I wiped the blood off my knuckles and looked down at her. Her face was almost unrecognizable now, bruised and misshapen. One eye was nearly swollen shut, her lips were cracked and bleeding, and her cheek was puffed out with angry red splotches forming under the surface. Her nose—well, it wasn't the same shape it started with. Honestly? She looked just as ugly as when I saw her a few minutes ago, rotting and cursed. Only now, it was just her. "What the fuck was that?!" Jason snapped, staggering up from the floor like he had the right to be outraged. I turned to him calmly. "Justice." Jason glared at me, jaw clenched so tigh