Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Luna Reborn: Surviving As The FL In A Werewolf Romance : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 76

The "Happy Ever After" lasted exactly three minutes.The golden light of the eclipse had faded, leaving a crisp, silent night atop the High Peaks. Kieran was still holding me, his heart beating a steady rhythm against my ear, and Rowan was standing close enough for our shoulders to brush. For a heartbeat, it felt like the credits were rolling.Then, the world hiccupped.It wasn't a tremor of the earth. it was a tremor of reality. The obsidian pillar of the Anchor, which I had just "grounded," didn't shatter. Instead, the white light I’d poured into it began to bleed away, turning from a pure, brilliant gold to a jagged, static violet."Iris?" Kieran’s voice was sharp. He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "What did you do?""I fixed it," I whispered, though my stomach was already dropping into my shoes. "I broke the script. I gave us a choice.""Look at the sky," Mattias barked, pointing upward.The stars weren't stars. They were flickering back into text, but the letters were garb

The "victory" at the High Peaks felt a lot more like a stay of execution.We had been traveling south for two weeks, leaving the lush, pine-scented mountains of the North for the parched, jagged canyons of the Southern Border. The truce between Kieran and Rowan was holding, but it was brittle—held together by the fact that neither of them knew how to exist in a world where a "bond" didn't dictate their every heartbeat."You're doing it again," I said, not looking back as I adjusted the pack on my horse."Doing what?" Kieran growled. He was walking behind me, his eyes constantly scanning the ridgeline. He was back to wearing a tunic, thank the gods, but he still moved with that prowling, restless energy of a wolf who had lost his scent-trail."Staring at the back of my head like you’re trying to see if the 'Author' left a barcode there," I said. "I’m still me, Kieran. I’m just... unscripted.""It’s too quiet," Rowan intervened, riding up beside us. He looked exhausted. The golden Alpha

The blue light didn’t fade so much as it curdled, turning into the grey, muted dawn of a world that felt like a fresh sheet of parchment.When I opened my eyes, the obsidian pillars of the Archive were gone. The smell of old paper had been replaced by the sharp, metallic tang of morning frost and the distant, rhythmic lowing of cattle. I was lying on a cold stone floor, but it wasn't a basement. It was a courtyard.I sat up, my head throbbing with a rhythmic pulse that matched the weight in my right hand. I looked down. The silver quill was still there, gripped so tightly in my fingers that my knuckles were white. It felt heavy—unnatural—like a piece of the sun had been cooled and shaped into a writing tool.I looked around. I was in the heart of the Northern Stronghold, but it wasn't the fortress of thorns and shadows I remembered. The walls were clean, the banners were a vibrant, un-torn crimson, and the air lacked the heavy, suffocating scent of "Alpha Aura" that usually hung over