All Chapters of Luna Of The Lost And Forgotten : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Lyra The sunlight slapped my face, but the heat in my veins had nothing to do with the morning.I’d been awake for hours, staring at a dead signal on my phone, tracking the last known coordinates of the Thorneveil battalion. The map glowed faintly on the cracked screen, a blue line stalled just beyond the Dead Zones—industrial wasteland, old borders soaked in radiation and wolf blood.“He crossed the border at 0400,” I said before my mother could even step into the room.I sat up, yanking the sheets back. My heart was a frantic bird against my ribs. “The Dead Zones are behind them. He should have signal by now, Mom. Why hasn’t he called?”Cassian Blackthorne. Alpha heir of Thorneveil pack. My mate. He’d been absent for six months, reachable only as a blinking dot on a map.My mother leaned against the doorframe, her face pale. She didn’t ask who I was tracking or why I hadn’t slept. When Thorneveil stirred, worry always reached us before answers did.“You know why, Lyra,” she said so

Lyra The world had gone dark. Or maybe I had. I woke to the sound of my own breathing. Ragged and too loud in the silence pressing in around me. My eyes snapped open, and immediately regret followed. Pain flared behind my eyes, sharp and disorienting, the world tilting violently as the hum inside me surged again. This time, a roar like a storm trapped beneath my skin. I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut. Not again. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—smooth metal beams crossed with old concrete, a narrow strip of reinforced glass letting in pale daylight. For a moment, panic clawed up my throat. I pushed myself upright too fast and hissed as pain lanced through my ribs. My body protested, stiff and sore in places I didn’t remember injuring. Bandages wrapped my forearm, clean and secure. Smaller dressings covered raw patches along my feet and calves, the dull ache beneath them unmistakable. I glanced down and froze. Gone were the torn remnants I’d fled Thorneveil in

***THREE YEARS LATER***Lyra The recoil settled cleanly into my shoulder, absorbed by muscle and memory alike. Once, it had bruised me. Now, it obeyed.I exhaled slowly and fired again.The target downrange jolted, metal ringing sharp through the open space as the round punched dead center. Dust shook loose from the beams overhead, drifting in thin lines that cut through the range’s half-open ceiling.Kyra, my wolf, stirred beneath my skin, her instincts coiling tight around Aegyris like a held breath—alert, listening, ready in ways I wasn’t. The power settled through her first, then me.It wasn’t strength in the usual sense. It didn’t need effort or intention. It simply pressed outward, a quiet authority that made the space around me feel tighter—like everything was waiting for a choice I didn’t know how to make yet.The hum stayed low, unfinished. I could hold it back, but I couldn’t shape it yet.A low whistle sounded behind me.“You’re still not beating my record,” a voice said,

LyraWe found ourselves struggling to drag Kael down the corridor toward his quarters.“You’re heavier than you look,” Jaxen grunted, shifting his grip as Kael’s weight sagged more fully onto him.“Authority adds weight boy,” Kael mumbled, words slurring together as his boots scuffed uselessly against the floor.I snorted. “That explains a lot.”We managed to maneuver him through the doorway and onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his solid frame. His coat was discarded somewhere between the door and dignity, boots kicked off with more enthusiasm than precision.Jaxen straightened with a grunt, pressing a hand to his lower back and rolling his shoulders. “I am officially too young for this,” he muttered, already turning toward the door.Within seconds of hitting the pillow, Kael’s breathing evened out.As I turned to leave, he stirred. His hand came out of nowhere, clumsy but determined, fingers closing around my wrist.“Lyra,” he murmured, eyes barely open. “You showing up here…

MirandaThe dress consultant fussed with the fabric, tugging at the seams as if the gown itself could whisper approval.“Honestly, Kristen, don’t you think it looks… regal?” I said lightly, tilting my head to catch my reflection in the mirror.Kristen, perched on the plush chair beside me, leaned forward, chin in hand, her lips curved in an indulgent smile. “Regal? It screams ‘here to rule everything,’ Miranda. Honestly, if I wore that, I’d scare off anyone within three blocks.”I smirked, but the thought of scaring off the wrong people made me frown just slightly. “Good. I don’t want anyone mistaking me for weak.”“Fair enough,” Kristen said with a chuckle. “Though I imagine in this pack, you don’t exactly need a dress to command authority.”I let the words roll over me like a pleasant shadow. Two things the current state of Thorneveil sorely lacked. Authority and power. The pack, as it stood now, was a mess—whispers of unrest, a fractured sense of order. And for what? A human girl.