All Chapters of The Luna in Me: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

After Orion left, the room felt impossibly still.The faint warmth on the pillow where she’d sat faded too quickly. The echo of her voice lingered longer, soft and painful in the quiet.I curled into the blanket-not because I was cold, but because my limbs suddenly felt too heavy to move, my mind too full to stay conscious. Exhaustion dragged me under before I had the strength to resist it.Sleep took me like a tide.Slow.Inevitable.Pulling me deeper than I meant to go.*****I don’t know how long I slept.When my eyes finally blinked open, the light coming through the window had changed.The golden glow of late afternoon had softened into the dim orange wash of early evening. The sun sat low in the sky, staining the room in amber and copper.For a moment, I wasn’t sure what had woken me.Then I heard it.A voice.Strong.Clear.Carrying across the courtyard with the kind of force that didn’t need words to be understood.Orion.Her rallying tone cut through the window’s thin glass,

I didn’t sleep well.The soup had warmed me, but every time my eyes drifted shut, I dreamed of horns echoing through the forest… of marching boots disappearing between the trees… of Orion’s voice fading into the wind.I woke long before dawn, then slept again, then woke to the soft grey light of early morning.The house felt different.Quieter.The Alpha and Luna were gone, and the absence pressed against the walls like a held breath. No training shouts. No warriors arguing. No guards marching in formation.Just an uneasy stillness that made the hair along my arms rise.My legs were stiff when I tried to sit up. The blankets clung to me like a cocoon, and for a moment I wished I could stay hidden inside them all day.But a soft knock interrupted the thought.Two gentle taps - not urgent, not intrusive.Waters.And a third, firmer tap.Clearway.I pulled the blanket closer around my shoulders and forced myself upright.“Come in,” I managed, though my voice cracked.The door opened slow

The walk back to my room was slow and quiet.The slave quarters still felt subdued - as though the entire house was holding its breath in the Luna’s absence. Lanterns flickered along the corridor walls, casting soft patches of light on the floorboards. The air was colder here, still carrying a hint of dawn.My room waited like a shell at the far end of the Athena section - plain but clean, and most importantly, private. A luxury few slaves had. A privilege that felt strange and undeserved.I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, exhaling shakily.The silence wrapped around me like a balm.I hung the dress Waters and Clearway had chosen over the back of a chair and crossed to the small door on the right - the private ensuite. A basin. A copper tap. A simple tub big enough for one person to sit in. Nothing ornate, nothing elaborate.But it was mine.Privacy was not something I’d known at the Athena academy. There, bathing was regulated and clinical, done in rows unde

Lunch passed slowly, the hum of conversation gradually returning to a low, weary normal. When the bowls were cleared and the hall began to empty, Jessa nudged me gently.“Come on,” she said, brushing crumbs from her lap. “I’ll show you where you’ll be working. It’s not far. And you’ll be with me most of the time, so it won’t be too bad.”Her tone was light, but she watched me closely - as though careful not to overwhelm me all at once.We stepped back into the hallway, the air cooler and quieter than the bustling hall behind us. Jessa led the way through a low arch into a narrower corridor that smelled faintly of soap and dried fabric.“This part of the quarters is mostly for house labour,” she explained. “Laundry, sewing, mending, storage.” She gave a small shrug. “The Luna likes things organised.”She said it fondly, as if it was a trait she respected.At the end of the corridor, she pushed open a wooden door.Steam clung softly to the air.Rows of wooden tubs lined the left wall

It started on the fifth morning.Nothing dramatic. No horns. No official message. Just a change in the way the hallways sounded - quieter in some places, noisier in others, like the house itself was shifting its weight.By the time Jessa and I reached the laundry room, the air felt different. Charged. Like everyone was waiting for something without knowing what.I had barely rolled up my sleeves when a pair of older slaves hurried in with a load of linens. Their whispers were louder than usual - sharp, fast, too urgent to stay contained.Jessa stiffened beside me.“What is it?” she asked, drying her hands on her skirt.The older woman glanced around before answering.“Word from the northern storehouse,” she said in a hushed voice. “One of the collection teams came back early.”I froze. “Early? Why?”She hesitated. And in that hesitation, fear slithered into the room like a cold draft.“They said the fighting’s been… harder than expected.”My stomach tightened.Jessa swallowe