All Chapters of The Luna’s Revenge : Chapter 61 - Chapter 66

The first day with Aria was the longest day of Nyx’s life. She held her daughter almost constantly, afraid that putting her down would somehow jinx whatever miracle had allowed her to be born breathing. The baby nursed weakly at first, her tiny mouth struggling to latch onto Nyx’s breast, but Elara helped guide them both through it and eventually Aria figured it out. When she did latch properly, she fed with surprising determination for someone so small, her little fists clenching and unclenching against Nyx’s skin. “She’s doing well,” Elara said after examining the baby thoroughly that first afternoon. “Breathing is steady, heart rate is good, color is healthy. Everything looks exactly as it should for a full-term baby.” “Finally,” Nyx said, and felt Theron’s hand tighten on her shoulder. Through the bond she felt his relief matching her own, felt him wanting to believe that finally meant they were safe, that the curse had been defeated. But Nyx couldn’t quite let herself believe

Nyx held Aria’s body for hours after she died, unable to let go even though she knew she should.The small form had grown cold in her arms, the warmth that had radiated from her feverish body during the night fading until there was nothing left but the terrible stillness of death. Aria’s face was peaceful, her tiny features relaxed, and if Nyx didn’t look too closely she could almost pretend her daughter was just sleeping. But the chest that had struggled so hard to breathe didn’t rise and fall anymore, and the small hands that had clenched into fists when she cried lay open and motionless.Theron sat beside her on the bed, one hand on Nyx’s shoulder, and through the bond she felt his grief matching hers. It was different from the grief they’d shared after Lyra and Kael, sharper somehow, more devastating because they’d had Aria. They’d held her while she was alive, had fed her and soothed her and loved her for eight days. Eight days of hope and fear and the desperate belief that maybe

Morning came three days after Aria’s burial, and Nyx woke knowing she had to return to the grove. She’d barely left their rooms since the funeral, couldn’t face the corridors of the residence or the eyes of the wolves who lived in Ashville or the weight of everything that had happened. Theron had stayed close, neither of them speaking much, just existing in the space where their daughter should have been. Through the bond she felt his grief matching hers, felt him trying to hold himself together while falling apart at the same time. But the grove was calling to her, the three small graves beneath the oak tree pulling at her like a physical weight, and she knew she couldn’t avoid them any longer. “I need to go back,” Nyx said quietly, and Theron nodded without asking where she meant because he already knew through the bond. “I’ll come with you,” Theron said. They dressed in silence and walked through the residence toward the forest. It was early enough that few wolves were awake,