All Chapters of Blood Bound Luna : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

They’d been translating Moira’s grimoire for two hours when the screaming started.Selene’s head snapped up. “What-”Dorian was already moving, his body shifting into that preternatural alertness that meant his wolf was at the surface. “Stay here.”“Like hell.”He shot her a look that would’ve made lesser people wet themselves, but Selene just stared back, arms crossed. Through the bond, she could feel his frustration he wanted her safe, tucked away where nothing could touch her. But they both knew she wasn’t going to listen.“Fine,” he bit out. “But stay behind me, and if I tell you to run, you run.”“Sure, yeah, I’ll definitely do that.”His jaw clenched, but there was no time to argue. The screaming was getting louder, accompanied now by snarls and the unmistakable sound of wolves fighting.They burst out of the archives into chaos.The main courtyard was a war zone. Wolves in half-shift tore into each other, blood spattering across the stone. But it wasn’t pack fighting pack Selen

The witches smelled like herbs and ozone and something else, something that made every wolf in the vicinity bare their teeth on instinct. Magic. Old magic. The kind that remembered when witches and wolves went to war and turned entire forests into graveyards. Seraphine seemed unbothered by the hostility radiating from every corner of the fortress. She swept through the halls like she owned them, her coven following in a tight formation that was definitely defensive. “Your great-great-grandfather tried to kill my mentor,” she commented casually as they passed a portrait of a particularly murderous-looking Veyrath. “Stabbed her through the heart with a silver blade during a peace negotiation.” “She survived?” Selene asked. “Oh no, she died screaming.” Seraphine’s smile was sharp. “But not before she cursed his bloodline with impotence. Took three generations before a Veyrath could sire children again. Very inconvenient for the whole ‘continuing the line’ thing.” Dorian’s jaw

Dorian was avoiding her.It had been two days since the witches arrived, and Selene had seen him exactly three times once at a distance in the training yard, once when he’d walked past her in the corridor without making eye contact, and once at dinner where he’d sat at the opposite end of the table and left before dessert.Through the bond, she could feel him constantly. His frustration, his fear, the way his wolf prowled restlessly beneath his skin. But feeling him and talking to him were apparently two very different things.“He’s being a coward,” Kira announced, sprawling across Selene’s bed while Selene tried to focus on translating another section of Moira’s grimoire. “Like, I love my cousin, but he’s the worst at processing emotions.”“I hadn’t noticed,” Selene said dryly.“When Lyanna died, he didn’t speak to anyone for three months. Just trained until he collapsed, then woke up and trained more. Thalia had to literally sedate him to get him to rest.”Selene’s chest tightened.

Selene woke up to find Kira sitting on her chest.“GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE!” Kira yelled directly into her face.“Jesus FUCK-” Selene flailed, nearly punching her. “What is wrong with you?”“Many things. We don’t have time to list them all.” Kira bounced off the bed with way too much energy for whatever ungodly hour it was. “Get dressed. We’re going into town.”“Town. There’s a town?”“Obviously. Where do you think we get supplies? The sky?” Kira started rifling through Selene’s wardrobe, pulling out clothes. “The fortress is basically a small city. We have markets, taverns, a really questionable bakery that keeps getting shut down for health violations but makes the best croissants”“Why are we going into town?”“Because you’ve been cooped up for a week and you’re starting to get that feral look. Also, Dorian’s been impossible and we all need a break from the testosterone-fueled brooding.” Kira threw a tunic at her. “Plus, there’s a festival. Music, food, probably some light public in

Fenris Blackclaw’s camp wasn’t a camp…it was a kingdom in waiting.Carved into the side of a mountain fifty miles north of Veyrath territory, it sprawled across the valley like a scar. Hundreds of wolves moved through the makeshift streets, their eyes gleaming red in the perpetual twilight that seemed to hang over the place like a curse.Because it was a curse. Ravenna’s work.The sky above the camp never fully lightened, trapped in a permanent state of dusk that made everything look slightly wrong. Shadow magic, ancient and unstable, warping reality itself. It made the wolves stronger, faster, more vicious but it also made them dependent. Leave the cursed territory, and they’d weaken. Stay too long, and they’d lose themselves completely to the madness.A fair trade, in Fenris’s opinion.He stood on a balcony carved into the mountain itself, watching his army train in the valley below. They fought with a brutality that would’ve made even the Veyrath wolves hesitate no mercy, no honor,