Semua Bab Barren Luna Returns with Triplets: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Ryan found me in the small sitting room just outside the garden terrace, where I had been standing for a while pretending to admire the flowers while my thoughts ran wild. The meeting with the elders still echoed in my head—their bowed heads, the way they spoke my name with respect instead of suspicion. It should have made me feel triumphant. Instead, it left me strangely exposed, like the world had finally turned its gaze on me and I didn’t yet know how to stand under it. Ryan didn’t say anything at first. He just watched me for a moment, as if gauging how much weight I was carrying, then cleared his throat softly.“Come with me,” he said. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”I followed him through the palace corridors again, still not entirely used to the way people paused when we passed, how their eyes lingered on me with curiosity and awe instead of contempt. It made my shoulders tense instinctively. In Blood Moon Pack, being looked at always meant something bad was coming. Ryan

My father’s hand was warm and steady in mine as the music carried us into motion. The ballroom seemed to fade as we began to dance, the crowd blurring into soft shapes and light. Alpha Ryder didn’t lead like a ruler commanding a floor; he led like a man afraid to step too hard, as if he might shatter the miracle standing in front of him. His movements were careful, reverent. I followed him instinctively, my body relaxing with each slow turn, my gown whispering against the polished floor. Around us, the pack watched in silence, but I felt none of the old fear. Only warmth. Only the strange, tender ache of belonging.“You dance like your mother,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “She loved this song.”I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I wish I could remember her,” I whispered.He smiled sadly. “You don’t have to. She’s in you. That’s enough.”We moved together beneath the chandeliers, father and daughter, reclaiming something stolen from us long ago. I felt his prid

Ryan waited until the healers left and the clinic settled into a quiet hum before he spoke. The twins had stepped out reluctantly at Alpha Ryder’s request, and Father stood near the window, giving us space without truly leaving. The room felt smaller with the truth sitting between us, heavy and breathing. I lay back against the pillows, one hand resting protectively over my stomach, my thoughts tangled in fear and questions I did not yet have the strength to voice.Ryan pulled a chair closer to my bed and sat, leaning forward slightly. His voice was calm, steady, the way it always became when he decided something important. “Celeste,” he said softly, “listen to me carefully.”I looked at him, my chest tight. “I’m listening.”“There is no reason,” he continued, choosing his words with precision, “to inform Kharl about this pregnancy.”My breath caught. I had not said his name out loud. I had not even confirmed it. Yet Ryan’s eyes held no accusation, only certainty. He knew. Of course h

The pain didn’t come all at once.It began as a tightening low in my belly while I was sitting in the garden, the late afternoon sun warming my skin as I watched the children chase one another between the trees. I had grown used to discomfort these past weeks—the weight, the aches, the constant awareness of my body doing something extraordinary. So at first, I breathed through it, resting my hands over my stomach and whispering softly to the lives inside me.“It’s alright,” I murmured. “Easy now.”But then it came again. Stronger. Sharper. A pull so deep it stole the air from my lungs.I froze.The children’s laughter faded into the background as instinct took over. This wasn’t the familiar shifting or pressure I had learned to live with. This was different. Final. My heart began to pound as I slowly pushed myself to my feet, one hand gripping the edge of the stone bench.Another wave hit, and this time I gasped out loud.“Celeste?”I turned to see one of the guards already moving tow

Celeste POVFive years.Sometimes I still wake up and have to remind myself that it has truly been that long. Five full years since the night my world split open and remade itself in the clinic, since three tiny cries rewrote everything I thought I knew about life, about myself, about love. When I look at my children now, it feels impossible that they were ever small enough to fit against my chest all at once. Yet when I close my eyes, I can still feel their newborn warmth, still hear the first sounds they made as they announced themselves to the world.The years have been sweet. Not perfect, not without fear or exhaustion, but sweet in a way that fills the soul instead of draining it.I remember the first time Blaze stood on his own two feet. He was always the bold one, even as a baby, impatient with crawling when walking promised more freedom. He had pushed himself up using the low table in the sitting room, wobbling like a determined little warrior. I was across the room, holding A