All Chapters of THE REJECTED WHITE LUNA: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The sky was pale and cold, the mountains shrouded in mist. Aria stood at the gates of Mooncrest with her hand resting on the curve of her stomach, watching the carriage being prepared for the journey. It was sturdy and dark, built for long travel through rough terrain, its wheels reinforced with iron. Gretta had insisted on packing extra blankets and cushions. "She's pregnant, not made of stone," the old cook had snapped at no one in particular. Rowan was beside her, his presence a steady warmth in the chill morning air. Bael and Nyssa were already mounted on their horses, and two more warriors, Leo and Sera. She flanked the carriage on horseback. Behind them, bound and gagged in a separate wagon driven by Leo, was Varyn. The rogue leader had been dragged from his cell at first light. He was gaunt and sullen, his sharp eyes darting between the warriors who surrounded him. He is the witness. He would stand before the Nightfang pack and confirm what Selene had done. Liana came to se

The great hall of Nightfang had not changed. The same dark banners hung from the rafters, embroidered with the wolf's head crest, the iron chandeliers cast their flickering light across the long wooden tables, the cold stone floors gleamed under the torchlight. All of it was the same just as she had left. Aria stood at the center of the hall with Rowan beside her. Bael and Nyssa flanked the doors, their hands resting on their weapons. Varyn had been brought in behind them, his chains clinking with every step, his sharp eyes scanning the room like a cornered animal searching for an exit. The hall was quiet. Warriors lined the walls. Elders had been summoned from their chambers. Word had spread through the fortress like wildfire, the rejected mate had returned, and she was not alone. Ethan stood near the dais, his arms crossed over his chest. He had aged in the months since Aria's exile, deeper lines around his eyes, more like stress. But his gaze was as sharp as ever. Kael

On the second day. Aria stood at the window of the chamber Kael had given them, she had refused to go back to mooncrest without seeing Selene being punished. The room was in the main house, It was strange to be here again. Rowan was still asleep in the bed behind her, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. He had stayed awake most of the night, watching the door. Aria had slept peacefully. Today, Selene would be interrogated and the accomplice exposed. There was a knock at the door. Nyssa's voice, urgent. "Aria. The council is assembling.“ Aria pressed her hand against her stomach. "I'm coming." The great hall was packed. The elder, warrior, and some servant who could find space had crowded into the room. Selene stood near the dais, her hands bound loosely in front of her, not in chains. Her gown was wrinkled from a night in custody. Her hair was less than perfect. But her chin was still lifted. Kael stood at the head of the hall. Ethan was beside him, his arms

The hall was nearly empty when Kael approached Aria. The last of the elders had gone. Ethan had retreated to the corridor, his sharp eyes watching. Nyssa and Bael lingered near the doors, waiting for Aria and Rowan to leave. But Kael stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Aria with an expression she couldn't quite read. "Aria. I'd like to speak with you, Privately." Rowan's hand tightened on hers. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me." "It's alright." Aria touched his arm. "I'll be fine. Wait for me here." Rowan's jaw tightened. His golden eyes searched her face. Whatever he found there made him nod, though his posture remained rigid. "I'll be right here." Aria followed Kael through a side door and into the cold morning air. The sun had just crested the mountains, pale and golden, burning the frost from the grass. The courtyard was empty. The mountains stood dark against the brightening sky. It was the same courtyard where she had once stood as a prisoner, her

The days blended into each other like watercolors, soft, unhurried, full of gentle rhythms. Summer had given way to early autumn, painting the mountains in shades of gold and amber. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke. The pack had settled into a deep, abiding peace. Two months had passed since they returned from Nightfang. Aria stood at the window of their chambers, one hand resting on her stomach. She was nearly eight months along now, her belly round and full, her body soft and strong. “She's going to be a fighter, Nova said, her voice warm with affection. Just like her you.” “Or stubborn like her father.” She's going to be whatever she wants to be, as long as she's healthy. Rowan was in the training yard below, running drills with the warriors. She could see him through the window, his dark hair pulled back, his golden eyes sharp as he corrected a young recruit's stance. Bael stood nearby, his quiet presence a steady anchor among the