All Chapters of The Luna they both Claimed (Book 1 ): Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Damon stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. The room seemed to close in around him as the words echoed in his mind. “He isn’t breathing.” Panic surged through him, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. His wolf growled inside him, sensing the gravity of the situation. “Step back!” another voice called out urgently. One of the older students who had some medical skill rushed to Desmond’s side, pressing his fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. A tense moment passed before he looked up, his eyes filled with worry. “Someone call for help!” the student shouted. Damon’s heart raced as hot sweat formed on his forehead. He hadn’t meant to hit Desmond so hard—his emotions had taken over. And now… had he killed him? His hands shook as he stumbled back, his gaze fixed on Desmond’s lifeless body. The murmurs grew louder as more students gathered, whispers spreading through the room like wildfire. “What did Damon do?” “Is Desmond really dead?” “He punched him once—how

The door to Amara’s room creaked open, drawing her attention from the book in her hands. She glanced up, only to see Luna Anita stepping inside. Amara quickly rose from the bed, offering a small bow. “Greetings, my Queen,” she said softly. Luna Anita gave her a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Prince Aldrick is here, and he wishes to see you,” Luna Anita announced, going straight to the point. A wave of anxiety crashed over Amara. It was time—time to give Prince Aldrick her answer. For the past three days, she had thought of nothing but his proposal. She kept telling herself how fortunate she was to have caught his eye. Aldrick was handsome, kind, humble—everything a woman could hope for in a mate. Everything she told herself she wanted. Everything Damon was not. She tried to picture the life she could have as Aldrick’s queen—a life filled with respect and love, where no one would dare call her a bastard or a maid. People would bow before her—a queen in her own righ

It’s been a month since Damon almost killed Desmond and received severe punishment for it. But it’s not just that. It’s also been a month since he last spoke to his brother, Darius—a month of the two keeping malice with each other despite sharing the same room. After Darius confronted Damon about why he had a photo of Amara, and Damon refused to give a response, the two brothers hadn’t said a word to each other since. Darius was feeling jealous, insecure, and scared. Discovering that Damon had Amara’s picture with him made him panic as he wondered why Damon had it. Did it mean he had started developing feelings for her too? The thought filled him with pain, anger, and jealousy. He knew he stood no chance of having Amara if Damon got involved. Just one word from Damon, and Amara would fall back into his arms and forget all that Darius had done for her over the past ten years. Once again, he would be sidelined by her—and she would never glance his way again, just like before. The tho

Amara had just finished Luna Anita’s laundry — a pile of freshly folded dresses in her hands. As she made her way toward the Luna’s chambers, she was almost at the door when she noticed it was slightly ajar, and the familiar voice of Alpha Richardson echoed from within. Startled, Amara paused, intending to turn around and leave. But the next words from Alpha Richardson made her freeze in place. “What do you mean Damon’s still unconscious?” His voice boomed, sharp and angry. Amara’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Damon. Unconscious? She furrowed her brow, a wave of worry washing over her. What happened to him? “Listen, Sylvanus, if anything happens to my son, you and everyone responsible will face my wrath. You know exactly what I’m capable of!” Alpha Richardson barked furiously. Amara swallowed hard, her heart racing in her chest. Something was wrong with Damon — terribly wrong. Her thoughts drifted back to the dream she had last night about him. The dream had felt so vi

How are you feeling? Professor Steve asked, his concerned gaze sweeping over Damon, who had just woken up after being unconscious for 48 hours. Damon blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He didn’t respond right away, his eyes wandering around as he realised he wasn’t where he last remembered being. Instead, he was lying in the school infirmary. “What happened?” he muttered to himself, but Professor Steve heard him. “You collapsed. You’ve been unconscious for over two days,” the professor explained, his voice steady but laced with concern. Damon’s frown deepened. “Two days?” He struggled to believe it. “What happened? Why did I collapse?” Damon asked, trying to sit up on the bed. Professor Steve let out a soft sigh. “You were drained—physically, mentally, and emotionally. It took a toll on you.” Damon frowned harder but pushed himself off the bed, standing shakily on his feet. “You should rest. You’re not fully recovered yet,” Professor Steve urged, but Damon ignor