All Chapters of His Luna Returned—So I Left With His Baby”: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The outer ward was no longer a quiet fence.It was a front line.From the doorway of the guest chamber, Elowen could already feel it—silver pressure along the treeline sharpening from watchful to bristling. The hum in the trunks rose in pitch, a warning note.By the time she and Daire reached the perimeter clearing, half the outpost was there.Lunaris guards formed a loose semicircle inside the stone, moon‑silver weapons in hand. Some stood with spears grounded, others with blades drawn, light skating along their edges. The air tasted of metal and old magic, of tension pulled tight enough to hum.On the other side of the invisible line, beyond the marker stone, Tribunal had arrived.Not in full battalions. Crowe was too clever for that. A full military presence would have screamed war in a way that even his spin couldn’t soften.Instead, he’d brought something worse.Legitimacy.Two asset vans parked off the narrow track, engines idling. A cluster of city police cars flanked them, sir

The elder’s words hung in the clearing like a dropped blade.*Or you’ll die before the child is born.*The Lunaris guards shifted, the silver lines in the trees pulsing once, hard, as if the forest itself agreed with the grim assessment.Elowen’s hand stayed pressed over her abdomen, palm hot against the slow, uneasy roll there. Her lungs wanted to seize. She made them work.In. Out.She’d learned how to breathe through cages.She could breathe through this.The elder didn’t give her long.They lifted one hand. “Guardians,” they said. “Take her to the deep grounds. We begin evaluation and preparation immediately.”The word *evaluation* sounded different in their mouth. Older. Less bureaucratic. It still made Elowen’s skin crawl.Two of the gray‑cloaked Lunaris stepped forward, not with shackles but with purpose.“Stop,” Daire said before they were within arm’s reach.Nyra’s eyes narrowed. “You have no standing to—”He stepped half a pace in front of Elowen by reflex, muscles bunched.

Mae woke Elowen before dawn.Not with a knock. With a presence.The humming in the trees shifted; the silver under Elowen’s skin answered. When she cracked her eyes open, Mae was already sitting cross‑legged beside the pallet, hands resting on her knees, posture relaxed, gaze sharp.“Up,” Mae said. “Before your thoughts get noisy.”Elowen groaned. “My thoughts are always noisy.”“Exactly,” Mae said. “We start before they remember how loud they can be.”Elowen pushed herself upright, gritting her teeth as the low ache in her abdomen reminded her it hadn’t gone anywhere overnight. She felt wrung out in ways exhaustion hadn’t touched before—muscles sore from drills, mind tender from too many memories dragged to the surface, body carrying more than just her now.Mae watched her quietly. “Pain?”“Tolerable,” Elowen said. “Annoying. Not new.”“Tell me when that changes,” Mae said. “Not after. Not “when it’s bad enough.” Before.”Elowen nodded.They walked back to the stone circle in silence

They didn’t make Kieran kneel. Somehow, that made it worse. The elder led them back to the circle as if this were just another lesson. The silver runes along the standing stones pulsed brighter as they entered, shadows sharpening around the ring. Kieran walked with measured steps, jaw tight, hands loose at his sides. Daire took up position a little behind and to the side of Elowen, close enough that his heat pressed against her shoulder, far enough not to step into the Rite space uninvited. He looked like a guard dog someone had ordered to “stay.” The order was holding—for now. “Center,” the elder said. Kieran stepped up onto the low central slab, boots scuffing the worn stone. From here, Elowen could see the faint grooves carved into its surface—circles within circles, intersecting lines that meant nothing to her and everything to the people who’d cut them. The elder moved to the edge of the ring and laid their palm flat against one of the rune‑etched stones. Moon‑silver l

The South Ridge was where the ward thinned. Elowen hadn’t known that two days ago. Now, she could feel it as clearly as a bruise. The elders didn’t send her back to her room when the alarm sounded. They sent for her. “Lady,” Nyra said, brisk at the guest‑chamber door. “Ridge. Now.” Elowen’s first instinct was to put a hand over her stomach and say, "Lysa said rest." Her second was to remember the sound of the scout’s voice—*drilling into the outer wards*—and the way the baby had kicked like a protest. She stood. Her legs complained. Her back ached. She went anyway. *** The ridge was a low rise where the trees thinned, and the land dropped off in a shallow, rocky slope. From here, through gaps in the branches, Elowen could see the faint smear of city light on the horizon and, closer, the harsher glare of portable floodlamps set up along the outside edge of the forest. Tribunal. They hadn’t brought full dig crews. Not yet. But compact, tripod‑mounted devices that looked