All Chapters of YOU BELONG TO ME,MY LOST LUNA : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

GUARDIANS OF THE STORMLINE Bianca’s POVThe valley breathed under our watch, its ridges and rivers no longer silent, but singing with the hum of wards and watch‑wolves. I walked the corridor of the Hall of the Bond just before dawn, torch‑light dim, echoes muted. The twin‑crescent banner steadied in the wind overhead. Outside, the first glimmer of light touched the eastern ridge.I paused to touch the carved rune‑stone in my satchel, our signature. It felt warmer now, resonant. I slipped it into my belt and continued to the war chamber. The stormline had grown. The eight nodes we forged now formed a meshriver‑bend, ridge‑crest, signature‑grove, forge‑ruin, marsh‑edge, high‑pass, old quarry, western watch‑tower. Each flickered in mine and Kale’s map. Each held watchers alert.Inside the chamber Serena stood at the map‑table, Azelia adjusting magical lenses, Kale working with a patrol‑captain. All awaited the morning briefing. I took my place beside Kale.Serena’s voice broke the quie

The Spiral beyond veilBianca’s POVMorning broke over the ridges in a pale hush, a silence too complete to be ordinary. The valley was bright with ward-light, the stormline pulsing through mist like veins under translucent skin. Every node shimmered as if anticipating our movement.I stood at the battlement edge with the pendant warm against my chest. Below, the watchers formed ranks….wolves in disciplined lines, ward-mages carrying rods that hummed faintly. Kale moved among them with quiet precision, checking harnesses, inspecting blades. Mira waited near the stables, her face half hidden by the hood of a gray cloak.The air had changed. Even the wind felt aware of what we were about to do.Serena approached, her expression unreadable. “You’re sure you can control the pattern?” “I can’t control it,” I said. “Only listen.” She studied me, then clasped my forearm. “Then listen well, Bianca. The Veil has waited centuries. Don’t let it swallow you.”I nodded. “If it does, it will rem

THE NEW LIGHT BEYOND THE MAPBianca’s POVThe morning after the stormline spoke, the valley was quiet in a different way. Not empty, no, it breathed ,but every sound felt softened, as though wrapped in mist. The wolves did not howl. The wind did not rush. Even the wards along the battlement glowed more gently, a slow, pulsing rhythm that reminded me of a sleeping heart.I stood on the balcony above the Hall of the Bond, watching the land unfold. The new light , the one that had appeared beyond our farthest ridge , still shone faintly on the horizon. It looked almost like dawn, except dawn does not stay in one place. This one did. Waiting.Behind me, Kale’s footsteps sounded. He stopped beside me, resting a hand on the railing. “It’s still there,” he said. “Yes.” “Serena thinks it’s a lure.” “And you?” I asked. He took a breath, eyes on the faint glow. “I think it’s calling to you.”I smiled, though faintly. “Maybe it’s calling to all of us.”He said nothing more, but I could fee

THE KING WHO CAME WITH SHADOWSSerena’s POVThe morning was calm, but the calm felt false.Even the wind hesitated as it passed over the valley, soft, uncertain, carrying the taste of iron and storm. I stood at the balcony of the Hall of the Bond, watching the mist rise from the lowlands where the wards shimmered faintly in pale gold. The stormline pulsed beneath the land, a heartbeat steady and loyal.But I could feel another pulse coming from afar. A darker one.Familiar. Unwanted.It came with the news that reached me before dawn.A single sentence carried by messenger wolf:“Ronan of the Lycan Empire approaches the eastern pass.”For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.The name hit like a blade drawn from a wound I thought had long closed.Ronan.My past.My ruin.My greatest mistake.>>>>>>>>The ArrivalBy midday, the eastern gates opened.I waited at the top of the marble steps, surrounded by guards of Kale’s banner,silver crescents crossed with storm-threads. The air shimmered faint

THE FALLEN KINGSerena’s POVThe valley hummed with life, yet beneath it, a tension gripped my heart like a hand of frost.When the first reports reached me that Ronan had advanced into the eastern ridge only to falter beneath the stormline wards I felt neither relief nor triumph. Only a cold, wary dread.By mid-morning, the scouts confirmed it.“Your Majesty,” one said, breathless from the climb, “he’s down. The wards… they struck him. He cannot stand.”I closed my eyes. The words felt unreal, as if the valley itself had whispered a tale I had long feared to hear.Not a king.A man.Fallen.>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Rushing to the RidgeI mounted quickly, cloak flaring behind me, twin crescents fastened over armor as violet-gold light shimmered along the ridges. The wind carried the scent of rain and iron, of wolf and earth. My heart thudded in my chest not for fear of battle, but for what I would find.By the time I reached the eastern pass, the air was thick with fog. The faint glow of wards