All Chapters of Crown of the Luna; my mate wants me dead: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The library had become their unspoken meeting ground.No one ever arranged it — it just happened.Every time Leora walked in, she would somehow find him there, sitting by the tall window where the light poured like honey onto the pages of his books. Riggs always looked calm, detached, and lost in thought. Yet whenever their eyes met, there was a flicker — a quiet awareness neither could quite name. He always sat by the same window , where sunlight spilled like liquid gold across the desk. His silver-white hair glowed faintly under it, and his blue eyes — gods, those eyes — flickered up for just a second before returning to his book.Leora’s pulse skipped. She didn’t know why it always did that when she saw him. Maybe it was the mystery in his gaze, or the way he existed like a shadow — always there, but never too close.“Back again?” he’d ask without looking up from his book.“And you?” Leora countered, sliding into the seat opposite him. “Do you live here or something?”He smiled fai

The moon hung low over Crestwood when Zaria summoned him.Theron walked through the palace halls in silence, boots thudding softly against marble, the glow of the sconces flickering over his sharp features. It was late—too late for casual conversation.When he entered Zaria’s chamber, she was waiting by the fire, wrapped in a shawl of deep violet silk. A tray of untouched tea sat cooling on the table between them.“Ma Zaria,” he said respectfully, bowing slightly. “You called for me?”“Theron” she said acknowledging him, her voice rather weary.She studied him for a long moment before motioning toward the chair opposite hers. “Sit. This won’t take long.”Theron obeyed, posture straight, hands resting loosely on his knees.“I have concerns,” she began, each word careful, deliberate. “Concerns about someone new around Leora.”He didn’t move. “You’re referring to Riggs Soul.”Zaria’s gaze sharpened. “So you know.”“I make it my business to know who speaks with the Luna, that's what I was

Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the study, spilling golden streaks across shelves filled with scrolls and ancient books. Aunt Zaria stood behind her desk, her arms folded and her expression unreadable as she stared out the window.Theron stood a few feet away, straight-backed and calm, his face as composed as ever. The quiet between them was heavy, almost deliberate.Finally, Zaria broke it.“Anything new?” she asked, turning to face him. Her voice was measured, but there was a faint edge of impatience beneath it. “Did anything happen yesterday with Leora and that boy?”Theron met her gaze evenly. “Nothing that concerns the council, my lady.”Her brow arched slightly. “That wasn’t what I asked.”He paused for a beat. “They spoke after school. Nothing else worth reporting.”Zaria’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Nothing at all?”Theron’s expression didn’t waver. “Nothing unusual.”Zaria’s fingers drummed lightly against the table. “Theron… I know you’re loyal this fam

Theron moved toward the door. “You have until tomorrow to figure out how you’re going to fix this. If I were you, I’d start praying she shows mercy.”He reached for the handle, then paused. “And Riggs?”Riggs lifted his eyes.“If you ever touch her again—without her permission—no one will find what’s left of you.”With that, Theron stepped out into the cold night.The wind howled through the night , leaving Riggs alone with his guilt, his fear, and the broken promise of what could have been.Riggs sank to his knees, the candle flickering beside him. His throat burned as he whispered, almost to himself—“I was only trying to help…”But the silence didn’t answer. Only the distant echo of wolves howling under the moon .The night outside Lyandra’s cottage was eerily still. Only the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl broke the silence. Inside, the scent of burning sage and pine resin hung heavy in the air.Theron stood before the crackling fire, his arms crossed, jaw

The clang of steel echoed across the training ground, breaking the morning stillness. Theron swung his blade with ruthless precision, every strike sharper than the last. Sweat slid down his temple, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.You will be her mate.Lyandra’s words wouldn’t leave his head. Each swing, each breath, was a futile attempt to silence her voice. He had trained to be a warrior, a protector—not to play the part of a lover in a scheme he had to win.“Theron!”Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He turned sharply, gripping his sword as he saw her walking toward him. Leora. Dressed in dark training leathers, her hair tied loosely at the back, strands escaping to frame her face, dancing against her flushed cheeks.For a moment, he forgot to breathe.“Luna?” he said, lowering his blade. “You shouldn’t be here. This area is restricted to the warriors.”“I’m aware,” she said, stopping a few paces from him. “But I came for a reason.”He raised a brow. “Which is?”“I want yo