Moonbound Hearts のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

Silvercrest did not feel like home anymore.The pack grounds, once filled with routine sound, slaughter near the cook fires, wolves calling greetings, and pups chasing one another, had become a place of strained silence and nervous glances. Even the wind seemed quieter, as if it carried fear instead of fresh mountain air.Lyra stood near the edge of the main clearing, arms folded tightly across her chest as she watched the search party prepare to leave.Warriors tightened their belts. Scouts checked blades. A few wolves adjusted packs filled with water and dried meat. Their movements were efficient, but their eyes kept drifting toward the forest line, like they expected danger to leap from the shadows at any moment.And still, Lyra was not allowed to join them.She could feel the insult lingering in her blood like poison.Too volatile.The words repeated in her head with every heartbeat.Lyra’s mate mark pulsed faintly beneath her sleeve, warm and restless. It wasn’t burning the way i

Lyra returned to Silvercrest with blood on her boots and proof hidden beneath her cloak.The carved fang piece felt heavier than bone should. She kept it tucked deep inside the fabric, close to her ribs, as though it could protect her from what waited inside the pack grounds.The gates came into view through the trees.Two guards stood watch, spears in hand. When Lyra stepped out of the forest line, both of them stiffened.One narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t assigned to the search.”Lyra didn’t slow. “I know.”His gaze swept over her damp cloak and dirt-stained sleeves. Suspicion tightened his face.“Where were you?” he pressed.Lyra’s jaw clenched. “Finding what you won’t.”The second guard shifted, glancing toward the clearing as if deciding whether to call for someone. Lyra walked past them without permission.The moment she entered the pack grounds, she felt it.Eyes.Not the curious glances she had endured for weeks. These stares were sharper, deliberate, measuring her like she w

Lyra didn’t sleep.The torn scraps of patrol ledger paper sat on her table like a warning that refused to fade. She had tried to piece them together under candlelight, smoothing jagged edges and aligning torn lines, but the most important part was missing.The approval signature.The name.Someone had removed it cleanly, leaving only proof that the page had existed at all.When the flame finally burned low, Lyra stood and pulled on her cloak. The air in her cabin felt too tight, filled with suspicion and unfinished truth.Outside, Silvercrest was waking.Not calmly.Not normally.Wolves moved between cabins in tense silence. Their eyes were sharp, their voices hushed, as if they feared the wrong word might invite disaster.The missing scout had done that.Fear had hardened the pack into something brittle.Lyra walked toward the training ring where patrol leaders usually gathered. She ignored the way wolves stepped out of her path, as if distance could protect them.They didn’t speak.

The council archive sat behind the main hall like a locked mouth.It was a narrow building built of dark timber and old stone, its windows small and high, its door reinforced with iron bands that looked more suited for a prison than a record room. Most wolves avoided it unless summoned. Knowledge was treated like power in Silvercrest, and the elders guarded power the way wolves guarded territory.Lyra stood at the bottom of the stone steps, staring up at the entrance.She could feel the pack moving behind her: scouts crossing the grounds, mothers calling pups inside, and warriors shifting into patrol formation. Life continued, but it continued under pressure.Everything felt watched.Lyra climbed the steps and knocked once.The door opened slowly, just enough to reveal a single face.Archive Guard Toren.He was older, thick-shouldered, with gray streaking his hair and a scar cutting down his cheek. Normally, Toren’s expression stayed neutral, his eyes unreadable. He was known for sile

Lyra didn’t return to her cabin immediately after leaving the archive.The weight of what she had seen sat heavy in her chest, pressing against her ribs like a stone. Morrigan’s handwriting in the margins of patrol reports wasn’t a rumor anymore. It wasn’t suspicion.It was proof.But proof alone didn’t guarantee safety.In Silvercrest, truth could be buried as easily as bones.Lyra moved through the dim corridors near the council hall, keeping to the shadows. Torches flickered against stone, their flames low, as if even fire feared drawing attention.She could still hear Tobias’s warning in her mind.They will ruin you if you reveal the wrong name.Lyra didn’t intend to expose anything yet.Not openly.Not until she understood how deep the rot went.She reached the smaller council office wing, where assistants and recordkeepers worked during daylight. Most wolves were asleep now, but Lyra knew one of them stayed late to organize scrolls.Elder Assistant Corvin.A thin, sharp-eyed wol