All Chapters of Cursed Luna: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

JohnLike a curse, the smell of blood pervaded the night. It mixed with the metallic tang of smoke and iron and covered my tongue, skin, and back of my throat.The battlefield felt alive, as though it was holding its breath, waiting for something worse, even after the enemy had disappeared into the trees, leaving only ripped ground and broken bodies in their wake.Behind my eyes flashed the mocking image of my mother. She hadn’t fought; she hadn’t needed to.I had been completely unraveled by her mere presence, and my rage had become an uncontrollable blade."Secure the injured!" My voice was rough as I yelled. "Sweep this entire area. I would like scouts to observe their retreat.Until I give the order, nobody rests. The fighters moved with efficiency.Nobody hesitated, even though some were limping and others were dripping blood. Strength was no longer the only factor in this.It has to do with surviving. Rebecca stood next to me, her hair plastered to her face with perspiration, he

RebeccaThe tree was standing tall as we reached the eastern watchtower, burned deep into the bark, the mark was simple yet intentional.It pulsed with danger even in the dim moonlight. "It belongs to her," John growled softly."She's making a claim." I knelt down and used my fingertips to trace the symbol's edge. It appeared to have been fractured and then put back together, resembling a spiral with a broken core.I questioned, "What does that mean?"John clenched his jaw, it's a caution. An assurance of the future. Charles shuffled uncomfortably."Or an internal message to her, guy." Like poison, the words lingered in the atmosphere. A message intended for the betrayer.Glancing back toward the inner gates made my stomach spin.Someone was feeding her information somewhere inside those walls. Someone we had faith in. And their next course of action had just been revealed to them.John Beneath my skin, my wolf growled, calling me to tear into the forest and pursue anyone who dared to

John "This was discovered close to the southern trail." Charles responded, passing the piece of paper to me. Charles handed me the paper, which I unfolded. I gazed at the piece of parchment paper. The lettering was still discernible, but it was scrawled in rough, coarse strokes on moist paper with torn edges. When I read the paper's contents, my stomach fell. names. "What is it?" Rebecca stepped closer and asked. When I finally spoke, my voice sounded like ice. I said, "It's a list." a list of individuals. Thick, dark lines had already cut through some of them. One of them was the warrior we had burned hours earlier. As I read on and saw another name, my chest tightened. One of my patrol leaders is Haven. Rebecca took a step forward, gasping for air. "Are these... targets?" I took a while to respond. The parchment crumpled in my palm as I tightened my hold on it. They weren't just any names. They were all either powerful or influential. The author was dismantling us from t

RebeccaEverything happened too quickly. In an instant, the trap was set precisely as John had intended, and the night was silent, tense, and motionless. The next, Lucien's derisive voice cut like a razor through the shadows "All right, brother. Like a typical hunter, crouching on the ground. My stomach fell. No. No, no, no. His stepbrothers picked this night out of all the ones to go seeking for trouble? John's entire body tensed up next to me, and it seemed like he was exerting a lot of effort to hold himself back. This was not intended to occur.They weren't included in the strategy. Not only was the boys' unexpected arrival untimely, but it was also disastrous. The traitor would either attack immediately to hide their tracks or disappear back into the shadows.Or did they have this planned all along? Was this an intentional attempt to divert our attention? I wouldn't allow them to.Fresh blood on our hands was the last thing we needed. I glimpsed the glimmer of a dagger in the cl

JohnThe familiar smell of antiseptic and herbs greeted me as soon as I entered the infirmary, and the fresh air quickly filled with the metallic tang of blood. The world seemed to have shrunk to the tiny, frail body in my arms and the steady,fragile line of blood soaking my sleeve, with each step feeling slow and unnatural like walking through ice. Rebecca's face was shadowed by the low ceiling light. Sweat was all over her face. She had half closed her eyes.Her chest continued to rise and fall slowly. For that, give thanks to the moon goddess. The hand trembled against her hip, a hand I had no idea I was holding so tightly. "Get her over to the table."The healer gave commands with such power that even my hand remained firm; she didn't even ask. The healer said, "Keep pressure on it," without raising his head. With practiced composure, her hands peeled back the ripped sleeve to expose the wound.The dagger's thin blade had slipped between her ribs. The cut appeared to be just a sc