All Chapters of Marked By The Tribrid King: Chapter 61 - Chapter 67

POV: Luna MonroeLuna stood at the altar, her spiral stone glowing softly, the flame burning steady in three colors—gold, violet, silver. The lullaby had settled into the Grove’s rhythm, but tonight, the sanctuary pulsed with something deeper. Not melody. Not memory. Expectation. The ley lines beneath her feet trembled—not in warning, but in readiness. She pressed her palm to the flame and whispered, “I’m ready.” The Grove didn’t respond with words. It responded with rhythm. And Luna knew the naming ritual had begun.She walked the spiral slowly, her breath syncing with the runes etched into the moss. Each step felt heavier than the last, not with fear, but with weight. The Grove wasn’t asking her to name the child. It was asking her to receive the name. Luna paused at the center, her spiral stone pulsing in time with her heartbeat. “Show me,” she whispered. The flame surged. The runes flared. And the wind whispered—not in prophecy. In promise.Aria joined her at the altar, pendant gl

POV: Luna MonroeLuna hadn’t dreamed in days. Not since the naming ritual, not since the Grove pulsed with her child’s rhythm. But tonight, sleep came fast—and with it, a vision. She stood in the spiral, alone, her stone dim, the flame flickering in violet and silver. The lullaby echoed around her, but it was slower now. Sadder. Each note bent inward, curling like smoke. Luna reached for the flame. It recoiled. And the wind whispered—not in comfort. In caution.She turned toward the altar, where a single rune pulsed in fractured light. It wasn’t her child’s name. It was something older. Something buried. Luna stepped closer, breath steady, heart pounding. The rune flared once. Then again. Then cracked. And the lullaby shifted—no longer hers. No longer the Grove’s. It was being rewritten. Luna whispered, “Who are you?” The wind answered. “The first threat.”She woke with a gasp, spiral stone blazing, breath shallow. The flame at the altar surged violently, casting shadows across the san

POV: Luna MonroeLuna stood in the archives, her spiral stone pulsing softly, the flame burning steady in the distance. The sanctuary had held through the combat ritual, but the Grove was no longer bracing—it was building. She felt it in the ley lines beneath her feet, in the way the runes shimmered without touch, in the way her breath synced with a rhythm that didn’t belong to her alone. The Grove was asking for permanence. Not prophecy. Not protection. Legacy.She walked the chamber slowly, scrolls tucked under her arm, her thoughts steady. The lullaby still hummed beneath her skin, but it had changed again. It wasn’t a shield anymore. It was a signature. A rhythm that would outlive her, outlive the threat, outlive the flame. Luna whispered, “I’m ready.” The Grove responded—not with light. With memory.Lucien joined her at the pedestal, his voice low, his hands steady. “We’ve never written a legacy scroll before,” he said. Luna nodded. “Then we write one that breathes.” Aria arrived