Semua Bab Barren Luna Returns with Triplets: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Celeste POVRyan didn’t take me to the training grounds.That alone should have warned me that this lesson would hurt more than bruises ever could.We met instead in the smaller council annex, a room most wolves ignored because it held no weapons, no banners, no symbols of dominance. Just maps, records, ledgers, and histories of packs that no longer existed. Ryan closed the doors himself and activated the privacy ward without looking at me.“Today,” he said calmly, “we stop pretending diplomacy is kindness.”I stiffened. “I’ve never pretended that.”He finally looked at me then, eyes sharp but not unkind. “You’ve believed it,” he corrected. “That’s more dangerous.”He gestured for me to sit. On the table between us lay several documents—trade agreements, alliance records, handwritten notes marked with dates and symbols I didn’t recognize.“These,” Ryan said, tapping the stack, “are the smiles.”I frowned slightly. “The… what?”“The packs that smile while planning betrayal,” he replied

Celeste POVGolden Sky Pack had never looked more alive.Lanterns hung from trees like captured stars, their warm glow reflecting off laughing faces and polished stone. Music drifted through the air, drums and strings blending into a rhythm that felt ancient and comforting. Tables overflowed with food, sweet and rich, prepared not out of obligation but joy. Wolves danced freely, children ran in excited packs, and for once, no one spoke of borders, rogues, or strategy.Tonight was for my children.Five years old.I stood slightly apart from the crowd, not out of distance but instinct, my eyes following three familiar figures racing across the open space. Blaze was loud and fearless, his laughter carrying over the music as he challenged older children twice his size, already convinced the world existed to test him. Rune moved differently—quieter, more deliberate. He didn’t run unless he needed to. He watched first, learned patterns, stepped in only when Blaze’s boldness tipped toward da

The rogue didn’t die right away.That alone unsettled me.He lay bound beneath the watchtower, wrists secured with rune-forged cuffs, chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths. Blood soaked into the earth beneath him, dark and sticky, but his eyes remained sharp—too sharp for a man who should already be fading. Healers hovered nearby, careful not to save him, only to delay the inevitable long enough to extract truth.I stood a few steps away, arms wrapped around myself, feeling the night press close. The celebration from hours earlier felt like a lifetime ago. Lanterns had been extinguished. Music silenced. Golden Sky Pack had shifted seamlessly from joy to war-readiness, as if reminded of an old language they never truly forgot.Alpha Ryker arrived first, his presence heavy and absolute. Ryan followed close behind, his wolf restless beneath his skin, violence barely leashed. Guards formed a tight ring, weapons ready, eyes never leaving the prisoner.The rogue coughed weakly, then laugh

Kharl’s POVLydia stopped pretending.For five years she had worn patience like jewelry—beautiful on the outside, sharp underneath if you looked too closely. She had smiled through council meetings, held her child up like proof, and stood beside Kharl as if the title of Luna alone could force the world to agree she belonged there. Lydia had been careful. Calculated. Always watching for the moment the pack might turn its attention elsewhere and leave her exposed.But something in her had been unraveling for months.Kharl noticed it in the smallest places first. The way she tightened her grip on the child’s shoulder whenever elders praised her. The way her eyes flicked toward him too quickly when someone mentioned legacy. The way she lingered after meetings, leaning closer than necessary, trying to remind everyone she still held a place at his side.Then the patience cracked.The first sign came during training.Their daughter had been paired with another child—an elder’s grandson, olde

Kharl’s POVKharl did not confront Elder Morwen.Not yet.Open defiance would only strengthen the Seer’s hold. Morwen thrived on resistance. On being seen as the immovable pillar between chaos and order. If Kharl challenged him openly, the pack would fracture along belief lines, not loyalty. And belief was harder to kill than rebellion.So Kharl did what Morwen never expected.He looked backward.The investigation began quietly, the way all dangerous truths had to. No summons. No accusations. No council records requested under Alpha authority. Kharl moved through forgotten corridors and sealed archives with only two trusted shadows at his back—warriors sworn to silence long before loyalty.The old records lay beneath the pack house, carved into stone shelves and bound in cracked leather. Prophecies. Omens. Recorded visions stretching back generations. Morwen’s work. Morwen’s legacy.Kharl ran his fingers over the first scroll, dust clinging to his skin.“Read,” he said.The first prop