All Chapters of Bound to the moon: Chapter 141 - Chapter 147

 The moon hung low, its pale light cutting through the Alpha King’s courtyard like a blade. Thenight air was heavy, still, yet Thorne’s chest burned as though he’d been running. He hadavoided Rory’s chambers, avoided Kael, avoided even the quiet of his own thoughts. Everywherehe turned, the weight pressed on him. The way Rory smiled more easily with Kael. The wayKael’s touch lingered on her back when no one else was looking.It gnawed at him. He was one of the three — a fated bond. Yet sometimes, it felt like he was anoutsider, left to watch love unfold without him.He slammed his fist against the stone wall as the thought festered, jaw tight. She’s supposed to bemine too… why does it feel like she only wants him?“Careful, Thorne,” came a voice, smooth as poisoned honey.

The corridors of the Alpha King’s estate had quieted for the evening, but Lyra’s steps rang sharpagainst the polished stone. She moved like a woman with purpose, her silver hair catching thefaint glow of torches lining the walls. Her heart was steady, her resolve ironclad. For too long shehad allowed silence to be her shield, guilt to chain her tongue. But not tonight.Celina’s voice echoed faintly down the hall, a hushed cooing sound — the soft lull of a mother toher child. Lyra’s lips pressed into a thin line as she neared the chamber door. How many timeshad she entered that room with kindness? How many times had she believed Celina’s falsesmiles, her rehearsed sorrow?She pushed the door open without knocking.Celina looked up from the cradle where her baby lay swaddled, her dark hair spilling down hershoulders in deliberate waves. Surprise flashed across her face, but only for a moment. Thencame the practiced warmth — a smile too smooth, too polished.“Lyra,” Celina purred

The burial fires had long gone cold, yet the scent of death lingered in the air like a shadow thatclung to the stone walls of the packhouse. The pack mourned openly, wailing, singing dirges,pouring their grief into the soil that had swallowed Lyra’s body. But Celina? Celina played herrole too perfectly. She wore black silk, her eyes rimmed in false redness, her lips trembling withpretended grief.The truth simmered beneath her skin, like a secret she could not tell.That night, when the pack slept in exhaustion after days of mourning, Celina slipped into herchamber, cradling her child against her chest. She hummed a lullaby, low and sweet, her fingerstrembling though her voice did not betray it. “Shhh… my love,” she whispered into the baby’shair. “The world is cruel, but we’ll win it all. They’ll all see. You’re the future.”Her baby stirred, restless, as if sensing the storm that clung to his mother.Celina laid him in his crib and sank onto the bed. For the first time since L