All Chapters of Scarred Under Moonlight: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The palace lay quiet under the heavy veil of night, yet the silence felt brittle, as if it might shatter at any moment. Torches flickered along the marble halls, casting long, quivering shadows that danced across the walls in a macabre mockery of life. Aria could hear the soft, measured breaths of her two sons, Aleron and Ronan, curled on the wide cushions of the nursery floor, yet their presence did little to soothe the storm that raged in her chest. Lyanna was gone. The thought throbbed in her skull with every pulse, a hammer striking against the fragile walls of her sanity.The weeks since her daughter had vanished had stretched into an endless, torturous cycle. Days and nights blurred into one another, the boundaries of time dissolving under the weight of constant fear and relentless searching. Aria found herself wandering through the palace gardens at all hours, whispering prayers to the Moon Goddess, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.“Please… protect her,” sh

Sebastian’s voice cut through the quiet night, precise and unyielding, carrying across the edges of the forest where his wolves waited in perfect alignment. “Check every ridge, every hollow, every shadow. Nothing is too small to ignore.”Caius stood at the forefront of the search team, scanning the moonlit treeline with a calculated intensity. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, though he trusted the wolves to move faster than any weapon. “We go deep tonight. Split into squads and report every trace you find,” he ordered, his tone calm but carrying the authority.The night air vibrated with tension. Wolves padded silently through the underbrush, their senses stretched to the limit, ears flicking at every rustle and eyes glinting in the faint moonlight. Every movement was deliberate, precisely a dance of predators searching for a shadow, for the tiniest pulse of life.Sebastian’s eyes, sharp and relentless, swept the horizon. Each report from the scouts made him tighten his jaw

The room was dark, almost unbearably so, the faint glow from a single, cracked window too distant to bring warmth.Lyanna sat on the cold stone floor, her small back pressed against the wall, staring at the markings that covered every inch of her surroundings. Each etched line represented a day, a week, a month or perhaps even a year. She had long lost track. Erevon’s fortress had been her world for as long as she could remember, though her memory of the world beyond was blurred, fragmented. Her earliest recollections of sunlight, laughter, and gentle hands now existed only as hazy fragments, whispers that the mind struggled to recall.She did not know her exact age, having long since lost track of the years. She did not know how long she had been here, though the markings on the walls were a testament to her stubborn survival.The dark room smelled of stone and dampness, the air heavy with the scent of herbs and wax. The witch who worked alongside Erevon moved silently through th

She waited, counting her breaths. One. Two. Three hundred. Still nothing.Her fingers dug into the fabric of her thin gown as she whispered to herself, “They’re gone.”The sound of her own voice startled her. She had barely spoken freely in years. It sounded foreign, fragile, but alive.She turned to the door.Her body trembled as she approached it, her bare feet brushing against the floor. The air in the corridor beyond felt colder, unfamiliar. The faint scent of smoke and herbs lingered from the witch’s spells, but underneath it just barely was the smell of damp earth. It made her dizzy. It was the scent of outside.Lyanna stepped into the hallway.Her breath came fast. She expected to hear the echo of boots, the witch’s whisper, or Erevon’s deep, commanding voice. But the fortress was dead silent. The torches lining the corridor burned weakly, their flames shuddering against the cold air.She began to move, slow at first, every muscle tense. Her hand brushed the wall as she went,

Ronan moved forward cautiously, every step measured, his senses straining to pick up even the faintest trace of movement. The bond tugged insistently at his chest, a pull he could not ignore. It had started as a mere hint, a whisper on the breeze, but now it thrummed through him like a drumbeat, resonant and urgent.Then, a figure appeared through the shadows ahead. Small. Fragile. Moving slowly, carefully, every motion weighted with exhaustion.Her hair was tangled, her gown torn, and her bare feet left crimson streaks across the pale forest floor. Lyanna.Ronan’s heart nearly leapt from his chest. The scent had led them true. He moved forward, careful not to startle her, yet unable to slow the frantic pace of his own heartbeat.“Wait,” Aleron whispered, voice barely audible. “She’s… bleeding. We have to be careful.”Ronan’s eyes softened, though the amber fire within them remained. “I know. We won’t hurt her. We just… need to get close. Carefully.”Every step drew them nearer, th