All Chapters of The Heart of a Luna: Chapter 1 - Chapter 4

LyricThe bond between us - heavy, unwanted, forged by blood and moonlight - tightens as he walks away. It drags across my chest like a rusted chain, each link scraping over something already raw inside me. The pull doesn’t just hurt; it opens another wound on top of the ones he’s already carved into me.Star whimpers and presses against my ribs, desperate to follow him. My wolf lives on instinct and loyalty, not cruelty or abandonment. She only knows one truth: mate comes first.She doesn’t understand that he doesn’t want her.He doesn’t want us.I press a palm to my sternum, grounding her. “No,” I whisper. “We’re not going after him. We’re doing this alone. Like always.”“But our mate,” she breathes, soft and trembling. “We need him.”“We don’t,” I tell her, even though the ache twisting through me argues otherwise. “He never wanted us. He never needed us. We are not begging.”I breathe the way the midwives taught me—slow, deliberate, counting each inhale to keep myself from unravel

LyricThe council chamber feels different when I enter it, not colder, not darker—just tense, as if every stone in the room is holding its breath. The elders sit in their carved seats, arranged in a half-circle around the central floor. They were expecting me. The priestess made certain of that.I walk carefully, each step measured. My thighs ache. My abdomen throbs with a steady, dull pressure. The scent of blood—my blood—lingers despite the rinsing and wrapping. I am not healed. I am not composed. I am simply here because there was never truly a choice.Bryce stands near my father’s chair, positioned too close to the place reserved for the future alpha, as though proximity alone might make it true. He turns as I approach, studying me with faint irritation, the kind a man shows when an inconvenience interrupts his plans.My father watches me with furrowed brows, trying - and failing - to read me.The priestess stands at the far end of the chamber. When our eyes meet, she gives a smal