All Chapters of Reborn as Betrayed Luna : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Livia’s POVThe small oil lamp flinched as a draft pushed through the window seam, making the shadow of the silver mirror pattern stretch across the table.My hands were cold as I lifted the paper closer to the flame. The dry stamp wasn't painted in ink; it was pressed deep into the heavy cotton paper, the way noble families marked their private letters so no courier could open them without breaking the seal. Three small knots, interlocking around a faint curved band.It was the exact pattern carved into the frame of my mother's silver mirror – the one hidden under dust in the lower library, wrapped in heavy velvet.My mother died when I was seven. For fifteen years, my father had told me she died of a mountain fever during the cold months. But Vane’s courier was carrying paper marked with her personal seal.I stood up so fast the wooden chair scraped loudly against the floorboards.I grabbed my heavy wool cloak from the back of the door, throwing it over my shoulders, and picked up t

Livia’s POVThe sky did not turn blue when morning came. It stayed a bruised, muddy grey, heavy with damp mist that smelled of burnt pine and wet ash from the courtyard fire.By six o'clock, Torin’s men had pulled the shattered oak beams of the lower gate into a makeshift barricade. Heavy iron chains were wrapped around the wooden logs, anchored deep into the stone arches on either side. It wouldn't hold off an army for long, but it was enough to stop a sudden horse charge.I stood in the cold hall of the main house, setting a tray of dry bread and hot broth onto the heavy wooden dining table.My father sat near the hearth, wrapped in a thick wool blanket. His face was gray, but he wasn't shaking anymore. His eyes were fixed on the hearth fire, watching the small yellow flames lick against the damp logs."I remember the night your mother died," Father spoke softly, his voice gravelly from the cold air.I paused, my hands resting on the handles of the tray. "You said it was a sudden fe

Livia’s POVThe upper drainage shaft opened into a dense, foggy ravine half a mile above the river.Rain still drizzled from the pale grey sky, but the air out here tasted clean compared to the subterranean dust. Pines towered around us, their wet branches hanging heavy and low, dripping steady water onto the thick carpet of wet pine needles.Asher pulled himself up through the narrow stone opening first, his broadsword ready. He scanned the foggy tree line before turning to give me his hand.When my fingers met his, he didn't just pull me up—he lifted me effortlessly onto the solid earth, his fingers lingering on my palm long after my feet touched the dirt. His thumb rubbed over my knuckles, a small, unconscious gesture, before his hand slowly slid away."The stone bridge is three hundred yards down this ridge," Asher whispered, his voice low against the quiet rustle of the wind.He didn't move toward the trail immediately. He stood close, looking down at my face, his golden eyes fil

Livia’s POVThe stone bridge felt narrower with every step Asher took onto its arches.The wind blowing up from the gorge below carried a spray of icy water that stung my face, but the heat radiating from Asher’s hand locked around mine kept the freezing air from reaching my bones.Jonathan’s horse backed up until its rear hooves clicked against the far stone ledge. His face was slick with sweat despite the chilly air, his fingers fumbling beneath his coat as he reached for a small, silver dagger hidden in his belt."Kaelen!" Jonathan panicked, his voice cracking like dry wood. "Kill him! He can't leave this bridge alive!"Alpha Kaelen didn't move. He sat atop his stallion, his grey eyes calculating every inch of the distance between his sword and Asher’s chest. He looked at Asher, then down at our locked hands, and finally at the blue light humming beneath the skin of my wrist."You're fighting for a dying house, Blackwood," Kaelen said softly, his blade held ready, but his horse tak

Livia’s POVThe Great Hall of the Hartwell pack had not seen this much life in months.Log fires roared in both massive stone hearths, casting a rich, gold-and-amber glow across the heavy oak tables. The iron chandeliers, usually kept dim to conserve oil, were ablaze with tapers. The warriors and Alpha Magnus’s forward scouts sat side-by-side along the long benches, passing wooden tankards of hot spiced ale and breaking thick hearth-bread.For the first time since my mother’s passing, the dark shadow hanging over this house had completely lifted.At the head table, my father sat next to Alpha Magnus. Though Father’s face was still pale and drawn from the lingering effects of the poisoned tea, his eyes were bright. He was listening to Alpha Magnus recount a story from their younger days, laughing—a real, deep laugh that made my throat tighten with emotion.I sat at the corner table near the hearth, watching them, a wooden mug of chamomile and honey resting between my hands."You're q