All Chapters of The Luna in Me: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The corridor blurred around me as Waters and Clearway carried me, each heartbeat thudding like a dull weight in my ears. My breath kept catching in my throat, still uneven, still too fast. Every shift of their arms made my body spasm in tiny, broken tremors I couldn’t stop.We reached a door - tall, carved, familiar even through my haze - and Waters paused long enough to knock twice. Firm. Urgent. Respectful.“Bring her in.”Orion’s voice.Not calm. Controlled. Held tight like something dangerous was just beneath the surface.Clearway opened the door.Warm light spilled outward, flooding over my skin - gold lamplight, soft fireglow, the faint perfume of herbs. It made my eyes sting; after the darkness of the chamber, the brightness felt almost painful.Waters carried me in. Her grip stayed steady even as my muscles twitched against her.Orion was standing.Not composed in her chair. Not bent over her desk.Standing.She froze when she saw me.Her hands - which had been loos

The tea warmed me from the inside out.It soothed my throat, left a soft sweetness on my tongue, and melted something tight and aching in my chest. The robe Orion had left for me - pale blue, soft enough to slip through my fingers like water - seemed to glow in the morning light.But getting to it… that was the challenge.I placed my cup on the bedside table and pushed the blanket back.The cold air kissed my skin, raising goosebumps instantly. My legs twitched beneath the nightdress, testing their strength. That familiar tremor was still there - the aftershocks of fear, exhaustion, too much strain.But I wanted to try. I needed to try.I didn’t want Orion to find me helpless when she returned.I swung my legs slowly toward the edge of the bed. Every movement pulled somewhere - bruises, soreness, memories. I pressed my palms into the mattress and lifted.My elbows shook. My breath hitched. The room tilted faintly.But I kept going.My feet touched the floor first - cool wood, smoo

The corridor outside my room was already alive with motion.Servants moved quickly with trays and linens. Attendants whispered in pairs. Doors opened and closed with hurried clicks. The air felt heavy-charged in a way I hadn’t felt before. Even the walls seemed to hold their breath.Waters and Clearway flanked me as they guided me through the Athena wing. Not touching-I was not permitted that-but close enough that their presence steadied me.“Slow steps,” Waters murmured. “There’s no rush.”But the house around us felt like it was rushing anyway.A pair of junior attendants brushed past us, whispering nervously.“Do you know what it’s about?” “No-only that the Alpha hasn’t called a hall address in years-” “Not the Alpha. The Luna. That’s what’s strange.”My stomach tightened.We reached the main corridor that cut toward the great hall. More bodies pressed through: servants adjusting their uniforms, pack members striding confidently without a whisper of fear, low-ranked wolves usheri

As Orion stood beneath the cold light of the high windows, the hall trembling with the weight of her words, something clicked into place inside me.Not fear. Not confusion.Understanding.The Luna was not merely delivering a warning. She wasn’t informing the pack. She wasn’t calming panic.She was doing something else entirely.Something only a Luna could do.She was calling the pack to arms.My breath caught.Because I remembered something … something taught to us all as children:“The Alpha leads the pack. But the Luna commands the warriors.”And suddenly the pieces all aligned:Luna’s trained the fighters.Luna’s oversaw the defenses. Luna’s commanded guards, patrols, scouts. Luna’s organised counter-strikes.The Alpha ruled the pack. The Luna held the sword.Orion wasn’t warning the house.She was preparing a war.Orion stepped away from the podium.Her posture shifted, no longer the diplomatic calm she held in council, but something fiercer - a commander stepping onto a bat

The hallway outside the great hall was a river of bodies.Warriors rushing past in small groups, their boots thudding sharply against the stone. Servants weaving between them with trays, documents, water skins. Scouts being escorted at a near-run toward the war room.I kept to the wall, silent, barefoot, collar cold against my skin.Waters and Clearway remained along the right wall with the other attendants, following the flow of their own ranks. They couldn’t break formation to reach me. But their eyes flicked toward me whenever the crowd parted-even if only for a heartbeat.I took another step. Pain burned up my calf.Another. My breath stuttered.Then-Two voices drifted sharply from a side corridor up ahead.Low. Urgent. Unaware that I was approaching.I slowed without meaning to.Not stopping-just… listening.“…I’m telling you, this wasn’t an isolated attack.”A man’s voice-rough, clipped.“We don’t know that,” another replied, whispering. “We only saw the aftermath.”“No,” the