บททั้งหมดของ Luna's Calling: Marked Through Trials: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

Lyanna“Good evening,” I said, my voice carrying softly through the cool night air as I stepped onto the veranda.Theo was sitting there, his profile etched in a serious, distant expression that immediately softened the moment he noticed my presence. “Good evening,” he replied, a gentle smile breaking through his thoughts.I took the seat beside him, pulling my feet up onto the chair and wrapping my arms around my knees. The air was crisp, the kind of cold that usually demands a certain level of decorum, but here, it felt only like a quiet companion.“Would you care for some coffee?” he asked. He looked so ready to spring into action that I found myself nodding before I could even consider the offer.As he retreated into the house, I found myself reflecting on the night we first met. Fate truly has a twisted sense of humor. I remembered the exact moment he had entered that room; his eyes had locked onto mine with an intensity that made the air feel thin. His scent had been overwhelmin

LyannaOne month has passed since I fled that farmhouse.Tonight marks the conclusion of the Second Calling. Soon, the pack will be introduced to our new Luna. I had held a flicker of hope that the title would go to Ersa, but politics and fate rarely align with my preferences. Here at the estate, life has resumed its cold, rhythmic structure, though the silence in these halls now feels heavier than it ever did before.“Lyanna, when will they allow me to leave these grounds?” Yannie asked, her voice bordering on a plea. My sister had been recovered only a week ago, and she was already chafing under our parents' suffocating protection.“The decision rests with our father and mother, Yanna,” I replied, maintaining my composure. “They have consented to your match with a man of no rank. The least you can do is allow them this time with their youngest daughter.”Yannie pouted, a habit she had yet to outgrow. “I suppose I should be grateful to you for mediating the situation.”I reached out,

LyannaI stood in the center of the yard, staring at him as the sun finally climbed over the horizon. The light was pale and thin, casting long shadows across the dry earth. We were both covered in the dust of the road, exhausted and smelling of horsehair, and here he was, asking for my hand in such a state."Theo," I started, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of my mouth despite my deep fatigue. "I must say, I never expected to be proposed to in such a way. In a dirt yard, before breakfast, while we both look like we have been dragged through a hedge?"The light in his eyes flickered, and he pulled back as if I had struck him. His lower lip actually trembled, and for a second, I thought he was genuinely going to cry. The vulnerability in his expression made my heart ache; he was so earnest, so completely without armor when it came to me. He had spent a month in agony, and my attempt at a joke had pierced right through his hope.I did not let him retreat further. I laughed

LyannaThe greenhouse was silent, save for the soft, rhythmic hiss of the lanterns and the distant chirping of crickets outside the glass walls. Theo remained on one knee, his hand steady as he held mine, his gaze fixed on my face with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I wanted to speak—I wanted to give him the answer he had earned through a month of agonizing patience—but the words were trapped behind a sudden, tight knot in my throat.Instead of the composed response I intended to give, my tears began to flow. They were hot and silent, spilling over and tracing wet paths down my cheeks. I saw a flicker of concern cross Theo’s features, a slight tightening of his brow as he searched my expression for a sign of what I was feeling. Yet, he did not move. He did not rush me. He simply stayed there, anchored to the earth, patiently waiting for me to find my voice.Finally, I managed a shaky nod. I let out a breath that was half-laugh and half-sob, my lips curving into a wide, honest

LyannaTheo’s weight pressed me into the feather mattress, a solid, comforting anchor as his hips moved against mine in a rhythm that was becoming my whole universe.Every thrust was a powerful stroke. I could feel every inch of him, the hard, slick length of him sliding into me, filling me up completely before withdrawing, only to surge back in again.The bed, protested our passion with a rhythmic, groaning creak-creak-creak that kept time with the pounding of my heart.My own voice was a constant, breathy counterpoint to the bed’s song. Moans spilled from my lips without my permission, low and throaty at first, then rising into sharp, gasping cries as he found a deeper angle.My hands, which had been tangled in his dark, sweat-damp hair, now fisted in the rough linen sheets beneath me. I clung to them as if they could keep me from flying apart, my knuckles white with the strain as he drove into me, again and again, each push sending a shockwave of pure, liquid pleasure straight to m