Lahat ng Kabanata ng Moonbound Hearts: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

Lyra did not need the council to announce the fracture.She could feel it.It clung to Silvercrest like smoke after fire, thin at first, almost invisible, then thick enough to choke the air. Wolves still walked the same paths. Patrol bells still rang at the same hours. Training still echoed from the ring.But the pack no longer moved as one body.It moved like separated limbs, pretending they shared blood.Lyra stood near the narrow window slit in Ronan’s quarters, watching the pack grounds below. The morning light cast pale gold across stone paths and wooden platforms, yet even sunlight couldn’t soften the tension.Wolves gathered in clusters that made no sense.Not by duty.Not by rank.By loyalty.She saw it in the way they stood, shoulders angled inward, voices kept low, and eyes scanning before speaking. She saw it in the way they avoided certain faces, how greetings had become calculated instead of natural.And then she noticed the markings.Subtle.Deliberate.A warrior passing

The archive chamber had always felt like a tomb.Not because it held death, but because it held truth that Silvercrest wanted buried. Even the air down there carried a stale chill, heavy with old ink, dust, and stone that had not felt sunlight in generations.Lyra followed Tobias through the narrow passageway, her footsteps muted by damp ground. He walked with a slight limp now, still recovering from the silver-tipped spear. His bandages were hidden beneath his cloak, but his fatigue showed in every controlled breath.He held a lantern low.The flame flickered strangely, as if the darkness resisted light.Lyra glanced at him. “You shouldn’t be down here.”Tobias didn’t stop walking. “Neither should you.”Lyra’s jaw tightened, but she let the argument die. They had already crossed the point where caution mattered. The council was moving openly now. The pack was dividing. Wolves were bleeding quietly in alleyways.Secrets were no longer safe.And neither were they.The corridor narrowed

Morrigan did not return through the gates.She returned through fear.Lyra noticed it first in the way wolves stopped meeting her eyes. Not just avoidance, but something deeper, like her presence had become a reminder of punishment. The pack had always hated her in fragments, but now it felt organized, sharpened, almost ritualized.The compound buzzed with quiet unrest.Not panic.Superstition.It moved like sickness, spreading from mouth to mouth, whispered beneath breath, and carried into dens and hearths where pups slept. Wolves no longer spoke openly near the firepit. Conversations happened behind doors, under blankets, and behind closed shutters.And always, always, the same name returned.Morrigan.Lyra heard it while passing the storage huts, where two older warriors stood with their backs half-turned, speaking too softly for normal hearing. She didn’t need to hear the words.She felt their dread.Their voices carried trembling reverence.“She spoke,” one whispered.The other e

The first refusal did not come with shouting.It came with silence.Ronan stood at the edge of the northern patrol yard, watching the rotation schedule being enforced by his own command structure. The morning air was sharp, carrying damp cold from the treeline beyond Silvercrest’s perimeter.Two squads were meant to shift positions at dawn.Only one moved.The second remained where they were, unmoving, eyes fixed forward like stone statues pretending obedience.Ronan’s jaw tightened.Lyra stood slightly behind him, sensing the shift before he even spoke.He stepped forward. “Rotate.”The lead patrol captain didn’t turn immediately. When he finally did, his expression was guarded, uncertain.“Council directive,” the captain said carefully. “Hold position until further notice.”A ripple moved through the surrounding wolves.Not defiance.Not obedience.Something worse.Hesitation being tested.Ronan’s voice dropped. “That is not a directive I approved.”The captain’s throat worked. “We

Tobias didn’t call it a secret.He called it a wound that never healed.Lyra followed him into the narrow chamber behind the healer’s lodge, a place used for storing dried herbs and emergency salves. The door was reinforced, the walls thick, muffling sound from outside. It wasn’t an official meeting room, but that was the point.Nothing official was safe anymore.Tobias shut the door behind them and pressed his palm against the latch as if expecting someone to burst through it.His breathing was controlled, but his eyes betrayed him.He was afraid.Not of wolves.Of truth.Lyra folded her arms. “Tell me.”Tobias stared at her for a long moment, as if weighing whether she could carry what he was about to place into her hands.Then he moved to the small table in the center of the room and laid down a bundle of parchment. It was wrapped in dark cloth and tied with string that looked older than the compound itself.“This was hidden beneath the council hall floor,” he said.Lyra’s gaze sha