Beneath the Waning Moon のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

"They held me in the silver cell for three days before the healers dared release me to the secondary wing. I walked out before Leon could change his mind.I woke to dripping water and the stink of nightshade.The healer stood over me, scratching notes on a leather scroll. He didn't meet my eyes."One more shock," he whispered, "and your wolf retreats forever. You'll never carry young again."I stared at the stone ceiling. "What did he pay you?"His hand stopped. "I don't—""To keep me under while they cut out my pup's marrow. To end my bloodline." I turned my head. He stepped back. "What was the weight of the gold?"His shoulders sagged. He thrust release papers at me. I marked them with unsteady fingers."Stay through the waning moon," he murmured. "Your spirit is barely anchored.""I'd rather walk into blizzard than breathe here another hour."I gathered my blood-stained clothes and walked out. My legs shook, but rage kept me upright....The packhouse rose before me—timber hall I ha

The healer signed my release. He pressed a vial into my hand, pity stinging worse than silver."Move as if through deep snow," he murmured, avoiding the mark on my throat. "Another wound could scatter what remains."I scratched my signature and stumbled into mountain air. The hollow where my wolf lived ached with every step.I half-believed Leon might wait at the gates. He was not there. What had I expected from an Alpha who left me for dead twice in one moon?The packhouse throbbed with life. Laughter echoed off timber beams. Azure and gold banners hung from rafters—symbols of spring births.An oak arch framed the entrance, carved with words that stopped my breath:"Blessings Upon the Heir Luca Ashford."Not merely Lysandra 's pup-blessing.Tonight marked the second turning of our mating. The anniversary of when Leon marked me beneath the full moon.Not a single white iris—blooms I had planted myself—graced any corner.Leon's beta fell silent as I limped through the doors, eyes crawli

I woke to white walls and moonlight.For a heartbeat, I thought I had crossed into shadow lands. Then I saw him.Leon sat beside the cot, head bowed, fingers running through his hair. He looked exhausted, shadows beneath his eyes as if he had maintained vigil."You're awake," he said quietly, voice stripped of Alpha command. "You've been lost two days."I stared, saying nothing. The mark on my throat pulsed cold.He sighed, looking toward the window. "I didn't intend for it to go so far. I lost control. Lysandra 's heir was threatened. I never meant for you to suffer the death-sleep."The words meant nothing. Too late. Too small.He reached for a leather bundle. "There is a gown. I've arranged a private feast at your favored overlook—where we first ran, where I placed the mark."I stared at the bundle. The weight of his expectation pressed against my skin.He forced a smile. "Try to look like my beautiful Addy again."He leaned in. His scent—pine, musk, and Lysandra 's perfume—engulfed

Three days after the burning, I woke to screaming.Not mine. His.I sat upright in the dark, hand pressed to my throat—healed, smooth, his mark gone—and listened to the bond's ghost. It was dead, but corpses sometimes twitched.The scream came again, distant, tearing through the spirit-web like a wounded animal caught in wire. I closed my eyes and saw him.Leon.Kneeling in the Alpha's chamber, surrounded by his Beta and council, clutching his chest where the mating mark had mirrored mine. Golden eyes wide, wild, searching for something that no longer existed."Seraphine," he gasped, the name ripping from him involuntarily.His Beta stepped forward. "Alpha?""Nothing." Leon shook his head, sweat tracking his temples. "A dream."Lie. I felt the truth through the severed thread—cold, jagged, but still transmitting his pain. The backlash had begun.I pulled back, shutting the vision down. Not mercy. Preservation. I needed my strength for the pup, not for watching him suffer.Yet the screa

The Council chamber smelled of old stone and older blood.I stood at its center, no longer cloaked, no longer hiding. The pup in my belly had grown heavy, a constant reminder of what they had failed to take. My silver eyes—Spirit-Walker eyes—reflected the torchlight back at the assembled Alphas, making them shift, uneasy.They had expected a victim. They faced a sovereign."Seraphine of the Northern Pack," the Elder intoned. "You have brought proof of crimes. You have survived crimes. What judgment do you seek?"I did not hesitate. "For Lysandra—bloodline severance. Strip her of wolf-nature, of pack-rights, of name. Let her live as human, in the cold, where no beast will answer her call."Murmurs. Harsh, but not protested. The Council had seen her emptiness, her performance, her purchased murder."Granted," the Elder said. "The she-wolf Lysandra is henceforth Omega-nothing. No pack shall shelter her. No wolf shall acknowledge her scent."They dragged her out, screaming, clutching her f