All Chapters of His Mate, But Not His Luna: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lysera The elders returned together, their robes brushing against the ground as they stepped back into the pack square, their faces grave and unreadable. The murmuring crowd slowly quieted, every wolf straining to hear the verdict. Elder Matthias stepped forward. His gaze swept over the gathering before settling briefly on me—still kneeling, still shaking, still clutching my stomach as if that alone could shield my baby from whatever conclusion they had reached. “We have deliberated,” he began, his voice steady and authoritative. “Until Isyra awakens and is able to speak for herself, Lysera will remain confined under guard in her parents’ estate.” A ripple of approval moved through the pack. “She is not to be harmed,” Matthias continued. “She is with child, and the laws of our people are clear. No punishment shall be carried out until after the birth.” My heart thudded painfully in my chest. For a moment, I thought it would stop altogether. They wanted me to return to my parents

LyseraSound crept back to me slowly—dull and distorted, like I was hearing the world through water. My breath came in shallow pulls, uneven and painful.My cheek was still pressed against the cold floor. There was blood in my mouth. I could taste it.I stayed still, unsure if my body would even obey me if I tried to move. The room swayed in and out of focus, my head throbbing dully, the aftermath of the blow leaving everything hazy and unreal.I didn’t know how long I had been unconscious. Seconds? Minutes? Or maybe even longer?I strained my ears to see if I could pick up movements behind me. I needed to know if the person that hit me was still behind me. I heard and felt nothing. I was only met with silence.The silence around me was thick and heavy, broken only by my own breathing. The floor beneath me was cold and after a moment, I forced myself to move despite the pain.I drew my hands beneath me and forced myself forward, slow and clumsy, dragging myself across the floor until

LyseraI woke to the sound of wheels.At first, I thought I was imagining it because my mind was still fogged from hunger and pain, but the sound came again. A soft, uneven roll against the floor. Rubber against stone.My stomach clenched painfully.I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t drunk anything since my arrest. My mouth felt dry and thick, my tongue heavy. Even breathing took effort now. I lay curled on my side, one arm wrapped protectively over my stomach, my back aching dully beneath the bandages.Were they going to make me starve to death even after saying a pregnant woman shouldn’t be punished?Then the door opened and light spilled into the room, and with it came the scent I knew better than my own.Isyra.My head snapped up despite myself. She sat in a wheelchair.Her skin was pale, her lips bloodless, her dark hair pulled back loosely as if she no longer had the strength to care for it. A blanket was draped over her legs, her hands folded delicately in her lap like something fragile

Author’s POV“Isyra?” Henry’s voice came again, softer this time, edged with concern as he moved closer to the bed.She let her lashes flutter before opening her eyes slowly, as if the effort cost her something. When she focused on him, relief bloomed across her face—gentle, grateful, carefully measured.“You’re back,” she murmured.“I stepped out to check on the preparations,” He crossed the room in a few strides and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her. His hand reached for hers, wrapping around her fingers. “Are you okay? You should have called for me.”Isyra gave a faint smile. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been busy.”Henry frowned at that. “You’re never a bother.”She shifted slightly, as though finding a more comfortable position. The movement was small, restrained, designed to look weak. “Everything looks… lively out there,” she said, glancing toward the window. “The ball is really happening.”“It is,” Henry replied. “The pack needs it.”Isyra hummed so

LyseraTime stopped meaning anything after a while. Hours dragged by in a slow, cruel blur—each one heavier than the last. My body trembled uncontrollably, weak spasms rippling through muscles that had already been pushed past their limit. Hunger gnawed at me like something alive, sharp and relentless, clawing up from my stomach until it made me dizzy.I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t drunk anything.My mouth was dry to the point of pain, my tongue thick and useless. Every swallow scraped my throat raw. Even breathing felt like work now—slow, shallow pulls that left me lightheaded.The wounds on my back burned faintly, not with the fierce agony from before, but with something worse—sluggish, stubborn pain that refused to fade. My healing had slowed. My body didn’t have what it needed to mend itself.Even my wolf was silent.She hadn’t stirred since she retreated earlier, curled deep in the back of my mind like something wounded beyond comfort. The emptiness terrified me more than the hunger.