All Chapters of The Alpha's Forgotten Luna: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

What time is it now? Why is it so bright?The light falling across my face felt unusually strong, almost harsh against my closed eyelids. For a moment I stayed still, unwilling to open my eyes fully, letting my mind slowly rise from the deep heaviness that had wrapped around me. My body felt different this morning. Slower. Heavier. Like every muscle had decided to rest at once after being stretched too far for too long.It took me a few seconds to realize something else.The house was quiet.Not the tense quiet that comes before chaos, not the restless silence that follows fear, but a settled quiet that carried no urgency within it. That alone made my chest tighten slightly. I had not known a morning like this in years. My body had grown used to waking at the slightest s

The woods had become quieter lately.Not silent, not empty, but quieter in a way that made every sound stand out more than it should. The crunch of dry leaves beneath our feet, the snap of a twig somewhere deeper in the trees, the distant call of birds settling on higher branches. Every noise carried further, sharper, clearer, like the forest itself was paying attention.Kane ran ahead of me, his small legs moving faster than they had just weeks ago. There was a new confidence in his movements now, a strange mixture of excitement and determination that had grown stronger with each passing day. Watching him move like that filled my chest with something I did not yet know how to name. Pride, maybe. Fear, definitely.Both existed together now, tangled in ways that refused to separate.“Not so fast,” I called after him, my voice firm but not harsh. “Watch where you place your feet.”He slowed slightly, glancing back at me with a sheepish grin that looked painfully familiar. The same grin

Everett did not say anything for a long time after dinner that night, but I knew he was thinking. He had that look on his face—the one he used to carry when he was still Alpha. Calm on the outside, unreadable to most, but inside his mind would be running through possibilities, outcomes, consequences. I had grown up watching that look, learning from it, fearing it at times. Today, seeing it again made something uneasy settle deep inside my chest. Selena had gone to bed earlier than usual. Not because she was sleepy, but because she had grown quiet. Too quiet. Kane had followed her upstairs, pretending nothing was wrong, but I had seen the way his shoulders stayed stiff, the way he avoided her gaze as they climbed the stairs together. Children noticed more than we gave them credit for. And secrets had a way of growing heavier when shared spaces became quieter. I stepped out i

Sleep did not come easily that night, no matter how tired my body felt. Even after Kane had finally drifted off, even after Selena’s soft breathing filled the room beside him in a steady rhythm, I found myself sitting longer than I should have at the edge of their bed, my fingers resting gently in Kane’s hair as if removing my hand would somehow wake him again. His face looked peaceful now, too peaceful for a child who had cried in his sleep only minutes ago, and yet the tightness that lingered around his eyes told me that whatever haunted him had not left completely. He had said he heard voices. Not voices like people, not voices that spoke words, but voices that called. That single word refused to leave my mind. Call. It followed me even after I forced myself to stand, even after I tucked the blanket more securely around both of them, and even after I stepped out of their room and closed the door gently behind me.The hallway felt colder than usual, though the w

By the time Kane returned home that afternoon, I already knew something had happened.No one had sent me a message. No one had come running to the administrative block, and yet there had been a strange uneasiness sitting inside my chest since midday that refused to settle. Numbers had blurred in front of my eyes as I worked, columns refusing to align no matter how carefully I calculated them. I had rewritten the same figures twice before finally setting the pen aside, pressing my fingers against my temples as if that would quiet the restless feeling building inside me. Even Priya had noticed.“You’ve been staring at that page for too long,” she had said gently, her voice carrying quiet concern rather than irritation. “Go home early today. I’ll finish this part.”I hadn’t argued. I had gathered my papers quickly, my heart beating faster than usual as I walked back home, the uneasiness growing stronger with every step.