Stormfang Pack: Human Luna のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

The storm rolled over Stormfang like an angry beast.Rain lashed the windows, thunder rattled the stone walls, and lightning split the sky in jagged arcs of silver. Inside the packhouse, the torches sputtered and died one by one, until shadows devoured the halls. The air grew cold, heavy with the smell of wet stone and smoke.Bella tightened her shawl around her shoulders as she carried a small bundle of candles through the corridor. She had heard the pups whimpering in their chamber after the last thunderclap, their tiny voices sharp with fear.When she pushed the door open, her heart clenched.Half a dozen pups huddled together beneath a blanket, their golden eyes wide, ears pressed flat. The storm outside roared louder than their courage. Some trembled, others sniffled softly, trying not to cry but failing.Bella knelt by the hearth, setting her candles down. One by one, she lit them, their warm glow chasing the shadows back.“There,” she murmured, her voice low, soothing. “See? Th

The kitchens of Stormfang were alive with heat and noise.Cauldrons simmered over open flames, the air heavy with the scent of broth and roasted meat. Servants bustled from table to table, carrying trays stacked with bread and pitchers of ale, their movements brisk and efficient. Bella slipped between them, clutching a basket of herbs she had gathered herself.She kept her head down, ignoring the murmurs that followed her. The human Luna. Playing servant. Pretending she belongs.Her cheeks burned, but she moved steadily toward the counter, setting the herbs down. She wanted to help. To do something useful. Even if they sneered, she would not be idle.She reached for the chopping knife. The blade was heavier than she expected, its edge sharper. She set to work slicing roots, her hands careful but clumsy compared to the practiced motions of the servants.Then pain flared sharp and sudden.The knife slipped.Bella gasped as blood welled across her palm, bright and hot. The room spun for

The great hall of Stormfang glowed with firelight.Torches burned along the stone walls, banners of silver and black hanging proudly above the long tables laden with meat, bread, and pitchers of wine. The air buzzed with voices—warriors boasting of battles, servants weaving between chairs, laughter sharp and loud.Bella moved carefully through the crowd, her plain gown of pale blue standing in painful contrast to the silks and furs of the wolf-born women around her. Her shawl was draped neatly across her shoulders, her hair braided simply down her back. She kept her chin high, though her stomach knotted with unease.The gathering was meant to show unity. But unity had never included her.She sat near the end of the table, her hands folded in her lap. The goblet before her remained untouched. She could feel the eyes of the pack on her, sharp and mocking, their whispers curling like smoke.“Look at her dress. Human stitches.”“She doesn’t even drink with us.”“How long until Lucian grow

The feast hall glowed with gold and fire.Torches lined the walls, their light glinting off polished goblets and platters piled high with venison, bread, and roasted fowl. Laughter filled the chamber, low and sharp, a chorus of wolves celebrating another season’s hunt.Bella sat near the far end of the long table, her pale gown simple compared to the silks and furs of the women around her. The stain of the last gathering still haunted her memory, the feel of wine soaking her skin, the sound of laughter echoing in her ears. She forced her hands to stay steady in her lap, her chin high despite the whispers swirling around her.Tonight, she told herself, she would endure quietly. No outburst. No humiliation.But Stormfang had other plans.“Dance!”The call came from one of the elders seated near the head of the hall. His voice was gruff, edged with drink, but it carried authority. He rose, his eyes sweeping the room before settling on her.“The Luna must honor us with a dance.”Laughter

The wheels of the carriage creaked against the stone road, steady and rhythmic as Stormfang’s banner flapped in the wind above. Outside, the forests stretched endless, their branches bowing under the weight of late autumn leaves. Wolves rode alongside the carriage on horseback, their dark silhouettes cutting through the mist.Inside, silence pressed thicker than the furs lining the seats.Bella sat stiffly, her hands folded in her lap. The pale blue of her gown brushed against the rough leather seat, her shawl tucked tight around her shoulders. Across from her, Lucian sat like a shadow carved in flesh—broad shoulders, black coat unbuttoned just enough to reveal the steel buckle at his chest, silver eyes fixed on the window.The air between them crackled, alive with all the words unsaid.She told herself to look away, to focus on the blur of trees beyond the glass. But her gaze kept flicking back to him. His jaw was set, scar stark in the pale light, his raven hair falling forward to s