Semua Bab The Luna Reborn: Surviving As The FL In A Werewolf Romance : Bab 51 - Bab 60

I woke to cold air and an empty bedroll.Mattias was gone. The space beside me was still warm, which meant he hadn't been gone long, but the tent felt bigger without him in it. Emptier.I sat up slowly, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. My dress was stiff with dried blood—some mine, most not—and my hair felt like it had been used to scrub a forest floor.Outside, voices drifted through the canvas. Normal camp sounds: metal on metal, someone giving orders, the crackle of a fire. No screaming. No accusations.Yet.I forced myself to stand, swaying slightly as blood rushed to my head. The bowl from last night sat where I'd left it, the stew congealed into something that looked even less appetizing than before.My stomach growled anyway.I picked at it with my fingers, too tired to care about dignity, when the tent flap suddenly ripped open.Davies stood there, the same young soldier from yesterday. His crossbow wasn't drawn, but his hand rested on it. Behind him, three other

The switch from the roar of the forest fire to the silence of the void was abrupt, a violent snap of the senses that felt like being plunged into ice water. One second, I was gasping for air that tasted of ash and iron; the next, the very concept of air felt unnecessary. There was no wind, no heat, no weight. Just a crushing, absolute stillness.I wasn't lying in the dirt. I wasn't bleeding. I was sitting in a high-backed velvet armchair—the exact same one from my apartment, the one with the coffee stain on the left armrest and the slight dip in the cushion where I usually sat to binge-read. But the chair wasn't in my living room. It was sitting in a vast, empty expanse of white that stretched out in every direction until it hurt to look at. It was a place where shadows didn't exist, where the horizon was just more of the same blinding, endless nothing.My hands gripped the armrests, my knuckles white. This wasn't right. None of this was right.I looked down at my side, my breath catch

One second, I was a scream trapped in a white void with the Author’s light burning behind my eyes. The next, the world rushed back in with a loud, heavy roar of life. I gasped, my lungs stinging as I took a deep breath of air that smelled like pine needles and damp earth. The transition was so violent that I stayed on my knees for a long moment, my forehead pressed against the dirt, waiting for the spinning to stop.I was lying in the clearing. My head throbbed with a dull ache, a leftover sting from where the woman in the suit had pressed her hand against my skull.Slowly, I sat up. My hand went straight to my side, my fingers clawing at the fabric over my ribs. There was no blood and no hole. My dress, the light blue, itchy one from the very first chapter, was perfectly clean. There wasn't a single spot of dirt or blood on it. But as I touched my skin, the memory of the cold steel sliding through my bones came back so vividly I nearly threw up."I'm back," I whispered. My voice sound

A Drag PathThe walk to the stronghold felt like a journey through a dream I had already survived. In my first life, I had spent this trek in a daze of confusion, barely noticing how the trees changed from oak to ancient, towering pines. Now, every snap of a twig made my heart skip a beat. I stayed tucked between Rowan and Kieran, a small space of safety in a world that wanted me dead.The silence between the two men was thick and heavy. They did not look at each other, but they moved with a rhythm that showed years of shared history. Even if that history was built on blood, they knew how to move as one unit. Occasionally, Rowan would reach out to steady me over a root, his touch lingering just a second too long on my arm. Then Kieran would pause to scent the air, his shoulder brushing against mine as if to remind me he was there too. They were both on high alert, not just because of the wolves in the woods, but because of me.By the time the stone walls of the stronghold appeared thr

The morning dragged on with agonizing slowness. Every time the heavy clock in the hallway chimed, I felt a jolt of anxiety. I knew the timeline. Right now, in the Great Hall, the elders were whispering about my "strange behavior," and Kieran and Rowan were likely one word away from shifting and tearing the table in half.The Author loved this part. It was supposed to be the "clash of kings," where their obsession with me made them sloppy. But while they were measuring their egos against each other, the back gate of the stronghold was usually left poorly guarded. That was how the spy got in."My Lady, you are pacing again," Lena said, her voice full of worry. She was folding laundry near the bed, watching me with wide eyes. "Perhaps a bath would help? I can bring up the lavender oils.""No time for lavender, Lena," I said, stopping at the balcony edge.I looked down into the courtyard. I could see the guards milling about. They were bored. They thought they were safe behind stone walls