All Chapters of Stormfang Pack: Human Luna: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The moon hung swollen over the eastern ridges, its pale light spilling across Stormfang’s borders like milk poured across stone. Beyond those borders, where the river bled into the wildlands, another fire glowed — not moonlight, but torchlight, burning steady in the camp of wolves who did not call Lucian their Alpha.Lilith Duskbane stepped lightly into that firelight, her crimson cloak trailing behind her like spilled wine.She no longer wore chains. The bruises of her confinement had long since faded, replaced with a polish even finer than before. Her raven-black hair gleamed like silk down her back, her icy-blue eyes catching firelight with predatory brilliance. Every movement was deliberate, measured — the tilt of her chin, the faint curve of her lips, the way her robe fell to reveal just enough pale skin to catch every gaze.If Lucian had ruled with fear and dominance, Lilith wielded her weapons with subtlety: beauty, cunning, and a smile that always meant something other than wh

The alley still smelled of iron.Blood streaked the stones where Bella had slipped, a scarlet smear that the mist could not swallow. A lantern swung on its bracket farther down the lane, its wavering circle of light turning the fog to moving milk. Somewhere a cart clattered on a distant street, ordinary life wobbling along as if the night hadn’t just tried to eat her alive.Bella pressed her palm to the torn flesh of her shoulder and pushed herself upright. The world tilted, righted, tilted again. Her shawl hung from one elbow, heavy with damp and blood. The knife lay by her boot, its dull kitchen blade lacquered red. Her breath came in short, shallow pulls, each one scraping. She knew this feeling—the gritty border where will ended and the body demanded collapse.Footsteps came from the mouth of the alley. Soft. Deliberate.She reached for the knife.A shadow moved through the fog and made the lantern light flinch.Storm. Pine. Steel.Her fingers went slack.He stepped into view like

Bella’s POVWhen the fog rolled in, the city held its breath—doors latched, shutters snicked, voices slipped into whispers. I used to like the hush it left behind. Now the quiet felt full, like a room with someone in it who never moved a chair.I told myself it was only fear learning a new shape.By midweek, I stopped pretending.At dawn I crossed the square with the baker’s sack at my hip, breath turning to smoke. Gulls skimmed low over the river; awning ropes thrummed in the damp. I rounded the mill corner and slid—my boot skidding through a dark smear.Blood.Not much. A ribbon into a narrow gap between buildings. I didn’t look down that lane. I didn’t need to. The bond in my chest thrummed once, hard as a fist.He’d been there. Before me. Again.I quickened my pace. The café bell chimed as the door swung shut behind me.“You’re early,” Mae said, hands sunk in dough.“Couldn’t sleep.” My voice sounded thin. I untied the sack with shaking fingers and stacked sugar into blue-lipped j

Lilith’s POVThe night was her confidante.It slipped down the mountain slopes and pooled like black wine across the valley, filling every hollow and clinging to every tree. Fog crawled with it, wrapping the world in a shroud that felt less like weather and more like waiting.Lilith Duskbane welcomed it.She always had.The road to Magnus’s stronghold wound like a serpent through the forest. Torches burned at intervals along the path, their flames choking on damp air, doing little more than sketching out how deep the shadows went. Her crimson cloak dragged over mud and leaves, the hood low, concealing the sharp line of her mouth.Behind her, a handful of loyalists followed—wolves who still bent knee to her even after Stormfang had thrown her in the dungeons for a year. They were lean and hungry now, eyes glinting, more shade than flesh. Desperation made for obedience. And obedience made for tools.At the final turn, the trees gave way to a clearing. Stone walls rose from the earth like

Bella’s POVThe fog pressed thicker than usual that night, curling against the windows like smoke searching for a way inside. I sat at my desk, thread between my fingers, shawl draped across my shoulders. The small lamp threw a pale circle of light over the worn wood, but everything beyond it felt smudged and waiting.Mae had warned me to bar the shutters. I had. I’d barred the door too. Still, unease slithered under the cracks. I kept glancing at the corner where Lucian’s coat still hung from the night I’d mended it, as if the fabric itself might bristle at danger before I did.I told myself I was safe. I told myself Kael’s words were only meant to frighten me into returning. But deep down, my bones knew otherwise. The city no longer felt like mine.A sound snapped me alert.Not the groan of pipes. Not the shuffle of a drunk in the lane. A deliberate scrape, like metal dragged across stone.My breath caught.I rose quietly, candle flame trembling with me, and crossed to the window. T