Alle Kapitel von Underneath The Moonlight : Kapitel 11 – Kapitel 20

      The afternoon light pours lazily through the kitchen windows, warm and almost golden. It settles across the wooden table, the counters, the floor—everything softened by it. I hold the mug between my hands, close to my chest letting the heat sink into my palms as I take a slow sip.            Caramel. Sweet and familiar.            Mariel really outdid herself this time. The latte tastes exactly the way I like it—warm, comforting, just sweet enough to feel like a small reward for surviving the day. I sigh softly, letting my shoulders drop as I lean back in the chair.            For a moment, everything feels normal.            The house is quiet in that gentle, lived-in way. Somewhere down the hall, a door opens and closes. Footsteps pass, unhurried. Outside, birds c

  The sun is higher than I’m used to seeing it. Its warmth falls across the driveway, and I can feel it in my chest, a sensation that makes me both nervous and exhilarated. Lucien stands nearby, calm as ever, watching me adjust the strap of my jacket.          “I don’t need you to walk me through this,” I say. “I’ve been cooped up long enough. I can manage.”          He raises an eyebrow, faint amusement in his gaze. “I just want to make sure you’re steady. That’s all.”          “I’ll be fine,” I insist, stepping toward the car. “You can… wait outside if you want.”          Lucien’s expression flickers just slightly, something unreadable, before he nods. “As you wish,” he says, retreating a few steps to let me take the lead.          The air hits me differently than it did inside. It’s sharper, fresher, fi

The house grows quieter as evening settles in. It isn’t the kind of silence that comes with emptiness—there are people here, moving somewhere beyond the walls—but it’s restrained, deliberate. Like the house itself knows when to hold its breath. I sit on the edge of the bed Mariel prepared for me, my hands folded loosely in my lap, staring at the faint reflection of myself in the window. I look the same. And yet… I don’t feel like I belong in my own skin anymore. The quiet presses in, wrapping itself around my thoughts until I can’t tell whether it’s meant to soothe me or keep me contained. I sit on the edge of the bed Mariel showed me earlier, hands resting on my knees, staring at the window where the trees sway gently in the fading light. Too gentle. Everything here feels… controlled. Safe, they say. Protected. But the more I replay the last few days, the more something begins to itch beneath my skin—an unease I can’t shake no matter how man

    The forest edge trembles in the quiet night. Something isn’t right. My instincts flare before my eyes catch it—movement, too deliberate to be deer, too coordinated to be random.        “Lucien,” I say sharply, my voice controlled but taut. “Stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight. Guard her with everything you’ve got.”        He inclines his head, silent acknowledgment, before moving to position a few guards around the house. I watch him, grateful and frustrated all at once. I can’t risk her being vulnerable—not again. Not now.        The attackers are faster than I anticipated, and already I notice something odd. Their approach isn’t typical. They move like wolves, yes, but there’s a cold calculation, a deliberate cruelty in their strikes that doesn’t match the usual patterns

 Anger comes easier than fear.      It burns hotter, steadier—keeps me upright when everything else threatens to fold me in half.      I sit rigid on the edge of the bed while the doctor works, jaw clenched so tightly my teeth ache. Her hands move efficiently, practiced, dabbing antiseptic against the shallow scratches along my neck and cheek. She keeps talking—soft, careful words meant to soothe—but I don’t respond. I don’t even look at her.      Because if I do, I might explode.      “…no signs of infection,” she says. “Healing is progressing faster than expected. Try not to—”      “How fast?” I cut in.      She pauses.      “Faster than normal,” she says after a beat. “But stress can—”      “That’s not an answer.”      Her fingers still. Slowly, she stra