All Chapters of The Slave Who Owned The Moon: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

DARIANDespite my inner conflicts, I was in a somewhat good mood today. Even my wolf was in lighter spirits, and it was because of the little moments I had with Amaya.I thought about it all day, and I couldn’t help but wonder how it would have felt if I decided to throw caution to the wind and give in to the pull I felt towards her.But alas, this wasn’t a fantasy, and I had to face my painful reality.The corridor is quiet at this time of the night. The kind of quiet that hums in your ears and makes every footstep sound louder than it should. I’m heading back from the council chamber, still thinking through the day’s reports, when I round the corner leading to my wing.And I see her.The sight of Amaya always makes me stop in my tracks, even though I try not to. That was how much of an effect she had on me.She’s walking away from Lucian’s door, her head slightly bowed, the faintest wisp of steam curling from the empty tray in her hands. She doesn’t see me because she’s too focused

AMAYAIt starts as a faint ache behind my ribs. At first, I think it's fatigue since I've been running errands all day, fetching and carrying for people who barely notice I exist. But then it sharpens in a violent way, as if invisible claws rake across my chest.I drop the folded linens I'm carrying, clutching at my heart, and my knees almost buckle.What is this?The pain spreads, a white-hot lance shooting through me. My breath stutters, coming in ragged gasps. And then I know who the cause of this pain is.Darian.The bond between us flares like a live wire, and I feel him, not his thoughts, not his words, but his pleasure. His surrender. His closeness to someone else. Evelara.The pain twists, doubling me over. My wolf whines deep inside me, the sound raw and wounded. It feels like betrayal, even though I have no claim on him. My heart pounds against my ribs, every beat shouting ‘this is wrong, this is wrong’.“Stop it,” I whisper to myself, pressing my palm to my sternum as if

AMAYAAs much as I know Trish cares about me, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her anything. It was like there was an invincible force holding me back.Thankfully, she didn’t push. She just gave me a concerned look and went to sleep while I felt bad that I wasn’t able to reciprocate her gesture of goodwill.I woke up early the next morning to go for a run as usual because I needed to clear my head, especially after that strange feeling I had yesterday when I was practicing the healing techniques in the book I was reading.Halfway to the ridge, I slow to look up at the sky. The stars were yet to disappear, and I lifted my hand like a child and traced the line of a constellation whose name I don’t know.“Tell me,” I whisper to the dark, though I don’t know who I’m asking, my wolf, the trees, whatever lives between them. “What am I, that the current in those pages fights me?”My wolf presses her head against the inside of my ribs, a quiet comfort. She doesn’t have words, but she offers he

AMAYAThe dining hall smells like roasted venison and power. Heat rolls off the platters, and the candelabras burn high, the flames pitching little crowns of light along the elders’ silver hair. They talk in low voices that make the long table feel longer. At the head sits Darian, like an image carved from iron. That was how stiff he was, looking every bit like the ruthless Alpha he was.To his right, Lucian lounges like the chair was built for him alone. Theron is two seats down, his eyes moving with a hunter’s leisure. He watches everything, like he always does.I steady the serving tray against my hip. Evelara insisted I handle the entire table alone tonight, twenty settings, three courses, two decanters of red, one of white, all mine. She delivered the order with a smile and a tap of her finger against my wrist like I was a clumsy child she was indulging.“Careful, rogue girl,” she murmurs now as I pass the back of her chair, her voice sounding sharp. “Don’t let your hands shake.

DARIANI wait until the dining hall empties. The elders leave in twos and threes, satisfied with the food and wine they had consumed, and the one that irks me the most, the sound of their own voices. Lucian lingers long enough to meet my eye, to make me wonder how much he saw of my restraint, before he follows behind Theron into the corridor.Only Evelara stays, her head tipped over one shoulder, admiring her reflection in the tall mirror as if she’s the only person here worth seeing. The servants swept in, clearing dishes in silence. They took one glance at me and knew that they had to be quick with whatever they were doing. They know better than to speak when my temper’s walking close to the surface.“Dismiss them,” I say.The room stills. The servants bow out, and when the doors click shut, Evelara finally looks at me, the light catching the smirk already blooming on her mouth.“Something wrong, my Alpha?” she purrs. “You’re glaring like someone just spilled wine on your office d