All Chapters of Chronicles Of Moonblood 1. The Wounded Heart: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The throne room doors opened without a sound. Light swept along the massive stone columns, glinted on the golden embroidery of the banners—silver moons on black, the empire’s ancient emblem. I walked in beside Aedan, our steps striking the cold stone in perfect unison, as if we had always moved together like this.The council was already in place. One set down a parchment, another greeted with a nod—none were surprised. They had seen me at the king’s side before. But in their eyes now was something new. No longer doubt, cautious curiosity, or pity. They weren’t questioning whether I belonged. They simply saw me. In my bearing, the cut of my gown, the calm of my expression—something irreversible had changed.My seat awaited beside Aedan’s throne, a chair carved for the Luna. As I approached, a few inclined their heads politely. Cassian’s gaze caught mine, his faint smile saying only: I’m here.Aedan sat, his deep voice filling the chamber.“Let us continue. The Luna is present, as in t

The fire crackled faintly in the hearth, the flames stretching upward like weary sentinels holding to their final command. The air in the room was hot, heavy, fragrant. Silk sheets clung to my skin as I lay there, breathless. Every muscle trembled, still caught in the aftershocks of pleasure. My thighs quivered as if the waves that had swept me away minutes ago still pulsed through them. Exhaustion weighed on my limbs like lead, yet in my soul remained one clear, unquenchable thirst: I wanted more.Not the old, torturous, unwanted closeness I had feared for years. Not the terror of someone taking something from me. But desire. My own, pure, free desire. And I knew Aedan was the only one I could give it to.He looked at me as though he could read every flicker in my eyes. His gaze slid down my body, between my thighs, and when he felt how hot and wet I was, he smiled. Not mockingly, not with arrogance—but as if he had just been given a gift. His tongue touched me softly, lightly, like

The first light of dawn crept slowly through the gaps in the curtains, casting golden streaks across the ceiling. The air of the room was warm and quiet, as though even time itself had halted, unwilling to disturb what had passed between us. I lay motionless, but inside me something new pulsed: a pleasant, tingling heaviness, as though every tremor of the night still echoed in my body.I smiled. Jelly—that’s what I was, I thought, and nearly laughed aloud, but instead buried my face in the pillow. My limbs were soft, pliant, not my own somehow—but not in a bad way. Rather like someone who had finally been released from old, unrelenting tension.Aedan was behind me. His whole body enveloped mine, his arm resting at my waist, his thigh pressed against mine, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm with each breath. When I pressed my face into his neck, I realized my lips touched the very spot he had marked the night before. The wolf inside me purred with satisfaction—not demanding,

Dusk draped the palace walls in gold, as if time itself wished to remind me of the weight of the ritual one last time. Every stone, every column, every carved pattern seemed to preserve the moment when the earth groaned beneath my power. Even now I could still feel its echo in my chest—deep in my bones, as though my body had aligned itself to another rhythm.We sat on the balcony, only the two of us. The world darkened, but inside me light still pulsed, and between us as well—an invisible, burning thread that flared with every touch. Aedan draped a thick blanket over my shoulders, and when my fingers brushed his as I lifted the teacup, I trembled. Not from the cold. But because my thoughts spun restlessly.“I can still feel it…” I whispered, eyes raised to the stars. “As if something is beating inside me. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t wound… but it isn’t mine. As if another heart is beating in my body.”Aedan turned from the sky to me, his gaze piercing through every layer I had.“The p

he fire crackled in a slow, deep rhythm, as though each flame had become the pulsing heart of the room. Red-gold light washed over the walls, while shadows danced along Nyra’s figure as she stood before the couch, her back to me. The medallion still rested between her fingers, but I could see: it was no longer the past that held her thoughts. Her body shivered as though every part of her was awakening to the call of the present.And I could only watch. Spellbound. In the glow of the fire she seemed almost unearthly—her hair gleamed silver, her shoulders traced with the flicker of flames. Every instinct in me roared to go to her, but I didn’t rush. There was no need. I moved slowly, silently, like a hunter who revered the prey he would never harm. When I finally stopped behind her, close enough for my breath to graze the nape of her neck, I murmured, voice rough with the weight of desire coiled inside me:‘Do you know that when I look at you… I don’t see your past. Only you.’Nyra’s ey