Moonlight Knows My Name のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

Eve’s POV I had taken it upon myself to train and keep training until I was too confident in my skill to be bothered by any sudden ambush but I was going to train on my own and no one was going to know about it, secrecy had become a second nature to me, the pack had taught me that much without even meaning to, that was certainly the funniest part of my reality. I waited until I was sure they had all gone to sleep before going to begin my new approach to the war I was fighting against the demons trying to kill me. I stepped beyond the perimeter stones barefoot, the cold soil biting into my skin but I welcomed it, pain anchored to me, it reminded me I was still here and whole…for nowI closed my eyes as I stood in the clearing. I planted my feet and drew in a slow breath, grounding myself the way Morwenna had taught me too, I was still yet to find solid proof against Morwenna but I can’t say that her days of pretending to be an ally didn't help me in some way. And so I exhaled the way

Eve’s POV The forest path ahead of me was familiar,I had walked it enough times to know where the roots rose like knuckles from the ground, where the air thinned, where the scent of pine gave way to damp earth. Yet something had shifted, I was not alone.My skin prickled, every instinct I had screaming a warning I couldn’t yet translate. I forced myself not to move, not to react, I let my senses stretch outward slowly, carefully, the way you do when touching a bruise you don’t want to aggravate. I resumed walking, refusing to give away the sudden tension curling tight in my chest. My boots crunched softly against the forest floor. I passed two wolves from the outer patrol. They nodded respectfully, but their eyes lingered a fraction longer than usual. I nodded back, my expression neutral, my heart pounding, that was when it hit me.I reached the clearing near the river and slowed, pretending to adjust the strap of my jacket while my awareness expanded. The water flowed as it always

Malik’s POVThe first thing that struck me was how quiet the healer’s wing had become, this wasn’t the type of quiet that even came from exhaustion of any type, it felt curated instead like a space that expected to be entered by only one set of footsteps and had been holding its breath ever since. I stopped at the threshold, one hand braced against the stone archway, letting my senses stretch, this place had always been off-limits unless summoned, I stepped inside.Rows of shelves lined the walls, filled with vials, scrolls, and sealed containers etched with old protective sigils, these were not common remedies, these were things we kept hidden even from ourselves substances meant to heal damage caused by magic, curses, old bloodlines.And someone had been here.I moved closer, boots soundless against the stone floor, eyes tracking details most would miss, a shelf slightly misaligned, a faint smear of wax on a container that should never be unsealed without council approval, a sigil

Dorian’s POVThe first thing I learned in war was this: chaos is rarely accidental.People like to believe it is, I think it’s because it makes horror easier to swallow when you can call it coincidence, when you can blame fate instead of intention. But real disorder, true instability always has a pattern. You just have to be willing to look long enough to see it, I had not wanted to, not really.I told myself I was tired, that the pack was fracturing because fear always rots communities from the inside out. I blamed grief, history, old grudges that never fully healed.But as I sat alone in the archive room long past midnight, the air thick with dust and the smell of ink and leather, the lie finally collapsed under the weight of evidence.The records were spread out across the long oak table like a body laid bare for autopsy, council minutes from decades ago, financial ledgers detailing unexplained resource reallocations, old incident reports from ancient border wars I had skimmed a hu

Malik’s POV The report came to me folded in half, sealed with a mark I hadn’t seen in a while at least…Hartmann. The moment I recognized the digit pressed into the paper, my heart skipped a beat. I had lived long enough to know the difference between suspicion and truth, I like to believe. suspicion keeps you restless and… truth?it simply sits heavy like a stone placed on your ribs, I didn’t open the letter immediately.Outside, the pack house was beyond quiet. Wolves whispered when they walked now, their door closed softly, laughter had become rare, I closed my eyes a while basking in the memories of the joy that used to be Blackthorn and then I broke the seal.The parchment crackled as I unfolded it, my eyes scanning the familiar handwriting of Hartmann’s second-in-command, a man who wasted no ink on pleasantries, there had been a confirmed sighting of a female with dark hair, scar along the left shoulder…i paused, that was Morwenna but then I was the only one who knew about th