บททั้งหมดของ THE LUNA HE THREW AWAY: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

The grief hit me hard. It wasn’t the old, dull ache I’d carried for fifteen years, the kind you learn to live with because it becomes part of you. This grief was sharp and burning; the pain of learning a story you trusted was a lie. The truth hurt, but it was also freeing. It hurt more because of the cruelty, but it was better because of the courage.He knew what I was......he must have known, or at least suspected it. In his final years, he made himself invisible to keep Aldric from noticing anything unusual about his daughter.“He was protecting me,” I said.“Yes.”“He thought if he made himself small enough, I’d be safe.” I laughed, but the sound was too short and too sharp. "That’s what my mother did, too. Different method, same math." I put my hand to my mouth. "All my life, I believed I was the problem, that I was the one who needed fixing. But maybe they were just..." I stopped.“Trying to keep you alive,” Kael said quietly. He watched me from across the fire, not in his usual

“I had something I hadn’t finished yet,” he said. His voice was quieter than before, and for a moment his eyes drifted past me, focusing on nothing I could see. Whatever he'd left unsettled, it weighed on him still, shaping the silence that followed.I waited.“That’s it?” I said, when nothing else came.“That’s it.”“That’s not an answer.”“It’s the only answer I have.” He looked at me, and for once his silver eyes weren’t searching. They were just honest. “Most wolves go into the Void with nothing left. No pack, no bond, no reason to come back. The Void doesn’t kill you. It just stops giving you reasons to stay.” He paused. “I had a reason.”“What was it?”He looked at me for a long moment.“I’ll tell you when you’re ready to hear it,” he said.Something in his voice made me stop asking. I wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but I finally understood that whatever it was, he didn’t share it easily. He wasn’t avoiding the question. He was just careful. I was starting to see the differen

The words hit me, cold and heavy. Erased. Wiped from memory, as if I had never existed. They would remove every trace I left, no name in the records, no quiet stories told in the dark. I pictured my father’s face fading even from the memories of those who loved him, our family line gone not just in fact but in legend. The thought left me empty, full of grief I couldn’t show. If I failed, I wouldn’t even be a warning or a ghost. I would just disappear, and everything I fought for would fade with me.Cass nodded. "The last Sovereign did it. She stood in the Hollow, named her claim, and the moon answered. But when morning came, Aldric’s grandfather poisoned her at the feast. After she was gone, they burned the records. That’s why you do it here: if you fail, there’s no feast, no witnesses you didn’t choose, and no one to make you disappear quietly. This time, surviving is your only proof. There is no mercy, and the world forgets those who don’t succeed."I glanced at Fen. He watched me l

The correction. The phrase unsettled something deep inside me, as if he had left behind a riddle instead of comfort. Did he mean I was supposed to fix something he had broken? Or was I the answer to some old wound in our family, the thing that set things right? Part of me wanted it to mean I was special, chosen for something important. Another part feared it meant I only existed to repair someone else's damage. I didn’t know whether to feel proud, burdened, or simply lost. The uncertainty pressed at my chest, leaving me searching for any meaning and turning over my father’s words again and again, hoping to find a piece of myself in them. Still, something about the way my mother looked at me, with equal parts fear and hope, hinted that the correction was not just about my family. There was a weight in her silence, a glimmer of expectation, as if this phrase might echo beyond our blood and into the wider troubles of the Hollow. Maybe my father had seen something coming, something that n

We dived into a dense stand of thorn-bushes. The thorns tore at my skin, drawing tiny beads of blood, but I didn’t make a sound. We huddled together, me pressed between Fen’s cold, tattooed strength and Kael’s radiating heat.The sound came again. Closer. It wasn’t a howl anymore; it was a rhythmic, clicking noise, like a dozen sets of teeth snapping in unison.Through the leaves, I saw them.The Enforcers didn’t look like the guards from Thornridge. They wore silvered armor that didn’t reflect the light, and they rode horses that looked as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks; ribs showing, eyes clouded with a milky haze.In the lead was a man I recognized from the Hall. Elder Garrow. He looked down at the mud of the creek, his face a map of ancient, cruel wrinkles.“She’s here,” Garrow said. His voice was like dry leaves skittering over stone. “I can feel the fracture in the air. The Sovereign’s stink is everywhere.”He pulled a small, silver whistle from his vest and blew. No sound came o