Alle Kapitel von Moonbound Hearts: Kapitel 31 – Kapitel 40

The pack grounds still carried the memory of Lyra’s surge.Even though the cracked earth near the training ring had been covered with fresh soil, wolves avoided the area as if the ground itself could split again. Conversations felt guarded. Laughter sounded unnatural. Every glance held a question no one dared ask aloud.Lyra felt it in the way wolves stepped away when she passed.In the way mothers pulled pups behind their legs.In the way warriors who had faced bloodshed without flinching kept their distance, as if she were something unpredictable.She told herself she didn’t care.But the silence of the pack cut deeper than insults.That evening, the bell rang.Not the usual signal for patrol shifts.Not the call for morning drills.This one was sharp, formal, and heavy.Emergency council summons.Lyra didn’t need anyone to explain what it meant. Such meetings were only called by the pack when there was a threat to order.And now, they believed she was the threat.Inside the council

The clearing was tense, charged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Ever since the rumors about Lyra’s strength had spread, the atmosphere within the pack had shifted. Wolves who once greeted her casually now skirted around her, their eyes darting with uncertainty. A few of the younger wolves whispered among themselves, calling her “The Marked One,” their voices tinged with awe and unease. Half admiration, half fear, it stung more than she expected.Lyra moved cautiously through the training grounds, aware of every pair of eyes that followed her. Even during warm-ups, she could feel the invisible line that had been drawn between her and the others. The whispers were constant now, a hum that seemed to vibrate through the trees and settle in her bones.From the shadows, Morrigan watched with a quiet smile, her presence almost imperceptible. She subtly encouraged those who feared Lyra, planting suggestions that fanned their unease. “Strength like that,” Morrigan murmured to a c

Lyra didn’t go back to the pack grounds.She couldn’t.Not after hearing Morrigan’s soft voice twisting fear into something that sounded like reason. Not after seeing mothers nod as if Lyra’s existence had become a sickness the pack needed to cure.The forest swallowed her the moment she crossed the border trail. The air was colder here, sharper, and clean of gossip. Leaves shifted overhead as wind moved through the pines, steady and indifferent.Lyra kept walking until she could no longer smell the dens or hear distant voices. Only then did she slow, her breath turning uneven.The mate mark on her wrist pulsed beneath her sleeve, warm and persistent, refusing to fade no matter how many days passed since Ronan’s rejection.It wasn’t a wound anymore.It was a living thing.She pressed her fingers against it as if she could force it silent.“You’re ruining everything,” she whispered.The mark answered with another faint throb.Lyra clenched her jaw and moved deeper between the trees. Th

The patrol returned at dawn bruised, shaken, and silent.Lyra walked behind the others, her clothes stained with dirt and blood that wasn’t entirely hers. The injured scout Kellan was half-carried between Rowan and Elias, his face pale, his breathing shallow but steady.He was alive.That should have eased her.Instead, fury sat in her chest like a weight.As they reached the pack gates, guards stiffened. Wolves stepped out of their homes. Mothers pulled children closer. Warriors moved in, scanning the group with tense eyes.Lyra felt the stares land on her.Not gratitude.Not relief.Fear.Rowan spoke before anyone could ask. “Rogues. Ten of them.”Gasps spread quickly.When they got to the healer's den, Lyra didn't slow down. Tobias appeared immediately, already prepared. His eyes flicked to Kellan’s wound, then to Lyra’s wrist.He didn’t question her.He only waved them inside.The den smelled of herbs and smoke. Tobias worked quickly, pressing a bitter paste into the wound while R

Lyra didn’t return to the pack grounds right away.She remained in the forest after finding the torn fabric, staring at it as though the cloth might confess if she held it long enough. The scent of blood and terror lingered in the air. But beneath it lingered something colder.Intent.The ambush site had been chosen. The supplies had been tampered with. Wolves had been led into danger like prey being herded into a trap.When she finally moved, she tucked the scrap beneath her sleeve and headed back toward Silvercrest, every step heavier than the last.The pack grounds were louder than usual.Not busy, but frantic.Wolves clustered in tense groups, voices sharp, faces pale. Warriors moved quickly between cabins, gripping weapons even though the threat wasn’t inside the gates. Mothers pulled their children close, their eyes darting around as if the forest itself might step into the clearing.Elders stood near the center, speaking in urgent tones.Lyra barely made it halfway across the g