Todos os capítulos de The Rejected Luna : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

“Why are you still awake?”Roman’s voice sliced through the quiet like a blade.Luna didn’t flinch this time. She stood by the window, her back to him, moonlight washing her skin in silver. The papers she had stolen hours ago were hidden beneath her pillow, her mind replaying every word scrawled in his handwriting.“Because I don’t sleep well knowing monsters walk these halls,” she said softly.“Then you shouldn’t look in the mirror,” he murmured.She turned to face him, the moon behind her. “You mean you?”He stepped into the light. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, his chest marked with faint scars that gleamed like old secrets. His eyes were darker than the night behind him.“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you’ve just forgotten what kind of beast you’re talking to.”“I haven’t forgotten,” she said. “You keep reminding me.”Roman tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “You think knowing makes you safe?”“It makes me dangerous.”He smiled faintly, though the edge of it was

“You shouldn’t have come here, Lucas.”Clara’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the heavy night air like a blade. The wind that moved through the ruins carried ash and memory, the scent of old blood and burning magic still lingering from the battle hours before.Lucas stood in the doorway, half his face lost to shadow, the other illuminated by the cold silver glow from the fractured moon. His coat was torn, his chest streaked with dirt and blood, but his eyes never wavered from her.“I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly. “You knew I wouldn’t stay away.”She turned from him, arms wrapped around herself, though not from the cold. “You always say that, as if it’s supposed to sound like devotion.” Her voice hardened. “But it sounds like obsession.”He moved closer, his boots crunching on broken glass. “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s the only thing left that keeps me breathing.”“Don’t romanticize what you did to me.” She faced him then, her expression unreadable but her e

“Tell me, Luna… what does fear taste like to you?”The question slid through the air, low and deliberate, dripping from Roman’s voice like venom.Luna’s eyes opened to darkness. The scent of damp stone pressed against her senses , the scent of confinement, of old pain. The air itself seemed to hum, alive with an invisible energy that crawled beneath her skin.She tried to move, but her wrists were bound , not with chains, but with invisible force. The walls around her glowed faintly, sigils carved deep into the rock.Her voice came rough, restrained. “Is this another game?”Roman’s silhouette appeared in the faint light. He didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer, each footfall soft yet echoing with authority, until she could see his face , sharp, cold, devastatingly calm.“I want to show you something,” he said.She almost laughed. “You’ve shown me enough.”Roman tilted his head. “Not this.”He lifted a hand , and the world around them shifted.The walls vanished. The cold s

“Can you hear me, Luna?”The voice slid through the dark like a breath on her skin.Luna jolted awake, her pulse thundering in her ears. The room was empty, no torches, no windows, only the faint glow of pale light trembling across black stone. She pushed herself upright slowly, her hands brushing cold marble. Every sound echoed, stretching into eternity.“Roman?”Her voice came back to her, sharper, distorted, multiplied. Dozens of her own tones whispered her name back. Luna. Luna. Luna.Her chest tightened. “Where are you?”Roman’s laughter drifted through the air, low and distant. “Everywhere you look.”She turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning the walls. They weren’t walls at all, at least not ordinary ones. Each surface shimmered faintly, like glass breathing. Her reflection looked back from all sides, faint and ghostlike.“Another trick,” she whispered.“Not a trick,” his voice murmured. “A lesson.”She faced one of the mirrored walls. Her reflection stared back, pale, tremblin

“Where does he go every night?”The question slipped from Luna before she could stop it.The maid beside her , a girl with ink-black braids and frightened eyes , flinched as if struck. “Don’t ask that,” she whispered. “Some doors stay shut for a reason.”But Luna’s curiosity had already taken root. Since the dinner, since Roman’s mouth had touched her blood, her mind hadn’t known peace. Every night the same: his footsteps fading down the corridor after midnight, the soft click of a distant door, the hush that followed, like the castle itself held its breath.That silence was louder than any scream.When the moon climbed high, Luna rose from her narrow bed. She moved barefoot, her gown whispering against the stone. The halls were dim, the sconces burning low. Guards patrolled in lazy arcs, their armor catching fragments of silver light. She had memorized their rhythm , two minutes between passes , and slipped through the gap like smoke.The castle at night was a different creature.