All Chapters of The Luna He Threw Away : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The physician arrived the next morning. Not one from the Free Cities. Lysander wouldn’t take that risk wouldn’t allow anyone near me who didn’t already understand what he was, what I now carried, and what it could mean. Instead, he sent for Dr. Halva Renn, a woman known to very few. One of the rare people alive who knew the Lycan King was not just a quiet, grey-eyed man in a simple dark coat. She had Free Cities training, Lycan blood in her veins, and had handled the King’s private matters in complete secrecy for three decades. She examined me in the east drawing room. The curtains were pulled tight, muting the daylight into a dim, dusty glow. The air smelled faintly of polish and old wood. Helga stood outside the door like a wall, unmoving. And somewhere beyond, in the corridor, I could hear Lysander’s footsteps back and forth, back and forth like a man trying to outrun pain. When the examination ended, Dr. Renn leaned back in her chair. She removed her spectacles slowly, then st

Seraphina Dane sat opposite me in the east drawing room of the Aldris Lane townhouse, and for a while, silence stretched between us.The last time we had stood face to face, it had been on cold stone beneath a silvered sky. A moonlit amphitheatre. She had been a judge of the oldest court in existence, and I had been nothing more than a human banker she intended to erase. Now, she occupied an armchair in my drawing room, morning light filtering in soft and grey through the tall windows, a glass of expensive wine resting untouched beside her.Something about her had changed.The sharp, metallic chill that clung to her in the Court had eased. Not gone but muted. In its place sat something unfamiliar.Caution.And beneath that… something close to gratitude. Awkward. Ill-fitting. Like an emotion that had forgotten how to live on her face after a thousand years.“You wrote,” she said finally, her voice cutting clean through the quiet, “that you were not asking me to fight for you.”“I wasn’

Sleep never came to me on the drive down from the mountain.Mikhal kept the Bentley moving through the long night, steering us away from the sharp, freezing air of the high roads and down into the softer, heavier lands of the North, then farther still toward the Free Cities. I stayed in the back seat, silent, with Seraphina Dane beside me, while Corwin Vared’s words circled endlessly in my head.The House of Thane has already moved. Someone is already in your city.“He wasn’t lying,” Seraphina murmured into the darkness. Her voice was low, steady. “Vared does not lie. Not ever. It’s the one thing his fanaticism didn’t strip from him. If he says Thane has acted, then they have.”“Then who?” I asked. My voice felt dry. “Who would they send? You told me they think ahead. They calculate everything. So what does a house like that send into a city they barely understand?”For a moment, she said nothing.The car hummed. The road stretched on. Pines blurred past the windows, their scent faint

I waited nine days.That was the worst of it. Not the counting. Not the trap I had set. The waiting. I had handed Dr. Halva Renn a false date six weeks too early wrapped it carefully in the quiet trust between doctor and patient, and then forced myself to do the one thing I had trained myself never to do over the past five years.Nothing.No interference. No adjustments. Just stillness. Watching. Letting the truth move… or refuse to move at all.Seraphina Dane kept watch for me beyond my reach. She had access I didn’t old paths of influence, older loyalties, threads spun long before I was born. A judge of the Moon Court never truly lets go of those connections. If the false date reached Thane, she would see it in how the House shifted. A house preparing for an early birth would begin to adjust quietly, carefully, but unmistakably.Movement always leaves a shape.For nine days, the House of Thane remained exactly as it was.No shift. No urgency. No subtle repositioning.Whatever they w

Feeding a channel isn’t about telling lies.That’s the first mistake amateurs make they shove falsehoods down the line and assume whoever’s listening will swallow them whole. But a house like Thane doesn’t operate on blind trust. They test everything. They verify, compare, and dissect. The moment a source starts delivering nothing but neat, convenient lies is the moment suspicion sparks. And once Thane begins to suspect Bertrand is compromised, the line goes dead.And with it, my only clear view into the core of their house.So I didn’t lie to Bertrand Aldermoor.I chose something far more difficult. Older. Sharper.I told him the truth.Not all of it. Never all. But enough carefully selected truths. Real numbers. Real strategies. Genuine movements of money and household decisions. Every detail accurate. Every piece something Thane could confirm if they looked closely. I let that channel flow clean for two full weeks, untouched by deception, so everything Bertrand passed on would alig