Bound By The Moon's Curse のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

LENA'S POVThe forest was too quiet that morning. No wind, no birds, just the crunch of frozen leaves under my boots and the sound of my own heartbeat. Peace summits always start like this…too calm, and staged, like the world was holding its breath for another disaster.I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to see them…the Ironclaw wolves. My father’s enemies. My brother’s killers.But here I was, wrapped in my worn leather jacket, walking behind my father and the rest of Moonfang’s warriors toward the open clearing where the meeting would happen. The sun was weak, barely breaking through the mist. Every breath left a puff of white smoke in the cold air.“Keep your head down and your mouth shut,” my father muttered beside me. His tone was calm, but the warning underneath it was clear. “No sudden moves. No opinions.”I bit back the words that wanted to jump out of my mouth. You dragged me here, remember? But I said nothing. Not because I agreed, but because I was tired of fighting h

LENA'S POVThe walls of Frosthaven always felt too tight after a fight.Even now, hours after the summit, I could still feel the bond pulsing under my skin like a bruise I couldn’t stop touching.I kept walking. Long halls, stone walls, moonlight shining in through the high windows, everything too calm for the way my chest felt. I’d been pacing for so long that one of the guards outside my door had stopped pretending not to watch me.“Alpha’s orders, Luna,” he said finally when I passed for the third time.“I’m not Luna,” I muttered. “And tell my father he can shove his orders—”“Lena.”I froze. My father’s voice could slice through stone when he wanted it to. He stepped out from the shadows of the corridor, broad shoulders, and a cold expression, the weight of the pack pressing behind his every breath.He looked tired, older than he had at sunrise. “You should be resting,” he said.“I’m not tired.”His eyes flicked over me. “Then at least stay put. The pack is tense enough without th

LENA POVMy father said to stay inside.Obviously, I didn’t.The fortress walls shook with every blast, dust raining from the ceiling like the building itself was afraid. The guards outside my door stood stiff, pretending not to see me pacing back and forth like a caged wolf.“Alpha’s orders,” one of them said again, giving a side eyed look.I stopped pacing. “Yeah, I heard him. About twenty times. Anything else you want to repeat?”He said nothing.Figured.I went to the window. Outside, the night burned orange. The air shimmered with heat and smoke. Wolves ran across the yard in formation, steel blades flashing under torchlight. Farther out, dark shapes moved fast through the mist, it was too fast for a regular wolf.Rogues.My pulse picked up. The wolf in me stirred, she was restless.I turned from the window, crouched by the bed, and pulled out a small wooden box. It was old, with splintered edges, dust was thick on the lid. I flipped it open carefully.Inside lay my brother’s swo

LENA'S POVThe first thing I noticed was the ceiling.High, stone-gray, with a faint crack running through it. It wasn’t mine.The second thing was the smell.Ash, steel, and pine….it was out of place.Then the ache hit. Every muscle in my body throbbed, like I’d been torn apart and stitched back together wrong. I tried to sit up. Bad idea. The room spun, and my vision began to blur at the edges.“Easy.”The voice came from the corner, it was low, rough, and unmistakable.I turned my head slowly. Adrian Holt stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, and eyes darker than the room itself. His shirt was half torn, with blood drying on one sleeve.“Where—” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard. “Where am I?”“Ironclaw fortress,” he said simply.That woke me up faster than anything else. “You what?”He didn’t move. “You were dying. Your people were gone. So I brought you here.”My pulse stumbled. I looked around again. The walls were carved of stone, the window barred, torches burning low.

 LENA'S POV “Hold still!” “I am holding still!” I snapped. The healer gave me a look that said you’re the reason my hair is gray. If anyone had told me I’d wake up in Ironclaw territory surrounded by six angry grandmothers with herbs and boiling water, I’d have laughed.  Now I wasn’t so sure. The room smelled like smoke and something sour. One of them pressed a warm cloth to my shoulder, and the sting made me hiss. “See?!” I said. “You’re doing it on purpose!” The old woman glared. “You move too much. I can’t heal air.” “I’m not moving!” She muttered something sharp in her native tongue that sounded suspiciously like an insult. The others murmured