All Chapters of THE REJECTED LUNA’S FOUR KINGS: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

POV EMMA BELLEThe air in the Great Hall of the Black Crag was frozen in a state of excruciating tension. I could feel the presence of the Southern messenger before I even reached the doors—a scent of sea salt, old money, and an arrogance that made my inner wolf bristle.Beside me, Félix was a different man. The blushing, tender boy from the nest had vanished, replaced by the lethal First Consort of the North. He walked with a new authority, his shoulders broader, his emerald eyes glowing with the protective fire of a mate who had just sealed his claim. He wore his leather armor with pride, the silver marks on his neck—now fully healed and shimmering—displayed for all the world to see."Ready, Little Bird?" he whispered, his hand brushing mine in a silent promise."Let’s show them the North doesn't break," I replied, my voice echoing with a power that vibrated in the very stone beneath our feet.The massive obsidian doors swung open.Damon, Nathaniel, and Vincent were already there, s

POV EMMA BELLEThe morning after the Shadow-Stalker attack felt strangely still. The fortress was on high alert, yes, but inside the sun-drenched breakfast nook of the royal wing, the only battle being fought was between Vincent and his own nerves.Félix was sitting across from me, devouring a plate of thick-cut bacon and honeyed bread. He looked much better, though a clean bandage still peeked out from the collar of his tunic. He caught my eye and winked, his green eyes sparkling with that familiar, mischievous light."You're staring again, Vincent," Félix said, his mouth half-full. "If you stare at that tea any harder, it’s going to freeze into obsidian."Vincent, who was sitting at the end of the table, didn't even snap back with his usual dark wit. He was pale, his long fingers drumming a frantic, silent rhythm on the table. He looked at me, then at Félix, and finally let out a sigh so heavy it seemed to rattle the silverware."I told her," Vincent whispered.I set my cup down, le

POV EMMA BELLEThe sun hadn't even finished rising when the horn sounded. It wasn't the deep, booming call of a victory or the rhythmic alert of a patrol. It was the Sorrow-Blast—a jagged, mournful note that only sounded when the North had bled.I was in the solar, trying to stomach a piece of toast while the puppies did backflips in my womb, when the doors were thrown open so hard the obsidian hinges shrieked.Nathaniel entered first, his face a mask of such utter devastation that my heart stopped. Behind him was Vincent, his shadows lashing out around him like wounded vipers, and Damon, whose golden eyes were drowning in a sea of blood-red fury.Félix was at my side in a heartbeat, his hand dropping to his dagger, his emerald aura flaring in a protective wall around me. "What happened? Is it the southern border?"Nathaniel stepped forward, his hand trembling as he placed a scorched piece of parchment on the tactical table. "It’s not the border, Félix. They bypassed the front lines.

POV EMMA BELLEThe Great Hall was a sea of murmurs. The high-ranking Alphas of the Northern tribes stood along the walls, their arms crossed, watching the influx of "low-ranking" Omegas and injured healers with blatant skepticism. To them, the Black Crag was a fortress of power, not a charity house."The resources, Emma," Nathaniel whispered as he walked beside me, his eyes scanning a mental ledger. "We are already rationing for the winter. To house three hundred more souls, most of whom cannot fight..."I stopped in the middle of the hall. The violet light in my eyes didn't flare with anger; it hummed with a deep, maternal authority that silenced the room. "They are not 'souls,' Nathaniel. They are our people. They are the hands that heal our wounds and the voices that sing our history. If the Alphas have a problem with sharing their meat, tell them they are welcome to challenge me for the seat. Otherwise, find them beds."Nathaniel bowed his head, a ghost of a smile touching his lip

POV EMMA BELLEThe High Pass was a narrow, treacherous throat of gray stone and ice, and currently, it was choked by the golden banners of the High Council. They had established a fortified barricade—heavy iron gates reinforced with anti-shifter wards and a battalion of silver-clad mercenaries. They thought they were holding the line. They thought they were the ones in control.They had clearly never met a pregnant Emma Belle who had been denied her second breakfast.I stood on a rocky overlook, the freezing wind whipping my white cloak around me. At two months, the mountain air should have chilled me, but the furnace of my pregnancy—and the constant caloric intake—kept me glowing."Target in sight, Little Bird," Félix murmured, stepping up beside me.He wasn't looking at the enemy through his binoculars. He was currently rummaging through a leather satchel he had strapped to his chest—a satchel that was stuffed to the brim with dried meats, cheese wheels, and those precious honey-cak