All Chapters of THE LUNA’S FORBIDDEN ECHO: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Vivienne's POVThe fire in my study had burned to embers by the time Thaddeus knocked, and I let him wait a good ten seconds before I called him in. A woman who answers too fast looks idle. A woman who makes her Beta wait looks like she's running a pack."Come," I said, and folded my face into something tired and honest, the face of a woman who has given her whole life to this territory and never once asked for thanks.He came in reeking of pine sap and cold sweat, jaw set in that particular way he gets when he thinks he's found something and is half afraid of being right. I've known Thaddeus since he was a boy chasing rabbits through the lower orchard, and I have loved him the way you love a very good hound, loyal, useful, never once suspected of a thought of his own. That was my mistake. I felt the weight of it settle in my stomach before he even opened his mouth."Tracks along the eastern fence," he said. "Bare feet shifting mid-stride into paw prints, right at the boundary marker.

Zephyrine's POVCora's hands shook while she measured the tonic, and Cora's hands did not shake. I've watched her stitch a wound by moonlight without a tremor, watched her set Thaddeus's dislocated shoulder while he screamed loud enough to wake the lower pastures, steady the whole time as though she were buttering bread. Tonight the little glass vial clinked twice against the cup rim before she got the dose right, and that told me more than anything she was about to say aloud."Drink it slowly," she said. "It won't fix a thing. It'll just buy you a few more days of looking like it isn't killing you."I drank it slowly. It tasted of burnt copper with something bitter underneath I couldn't name, and it settled in my stomach like a stone dropped into still water, sending cold out in rings."How many days," I said, because I have never once in my life preferred not knowing a thing over knowing it, whatever it costs me.She sat across from me at the little table in her healing room, surrou

Zephyrine's POVThe altar stone had stood in this clearing longer than the pack itself, worn smooth at its centre from two centuries of hands pressed to it in binding, and as I walked toward it in the ceremonial white my father's people had dressed me in, I thought that stone had probably felt more honest devotion than I was about to offer it.Every torch in the territory seemed lit tonight. The whole pack had gathered in rings around the clearing, elders at the front in their heavy formal furs, my father standing beside Rurik with an expression of pride so complete it cracked something quietly down the middle of my chest. Vivienne stood near the back, hands folded, face composed into perfect, practiced calm, and even now, even with everything I was about to do, some small treacherous part of me wondered what it must be to move through the world that is certain of your own footing.I found Kaelen in the crowd without meaning to look for him. He stood near the eastern edge, half in the

KaelenThe cabin sat half-buried in snow at the edge of a clearing that looked like it had forgotten people ever lived there. Boards sagged. Windows stared blank. It smelled of old wood and dust and the faint memory of someone who had stayed long enough to leave a mark and then left forever. Perfect.I pushed the door open with my shoulder and waited. No recent pack scent. No tracks except the ones the wind was already covering. Just emptiness and the soft creak of settling timber. I stepped inside and motioned for Zephyrine to follow.She moved carefully, as every step cost her. I pretended not to notice the way her hand pressed against her ribs when she thought I was not looking. The lie between us had grown teeth, but I let it live a little longer. We needed the rest more than the truth right then.We found a narrow bed in the back room. The mattress was still decent under the dust. I shook out the blankets while she stood in the doorway watching me. Morning light through the crack

ZephyrineKaelen slept on his side, one arm still across the space where I had been. The fire in the stove had burned down to dull red embers. Outside the wind moaned against the boards. Inside, the only sound was his breathing deep, even, trusting.I sat on the floor in the darkest corner with my back against cold wood and my knees drawn up. The first real wave of sickness hit without warning.Heat surged up my throat. I clapped both hands over my mouth and crawled toward the cracked window. The latch stuck. I forced it. Cold air rushed in. I leaned out and vomited into the snow.Blood. Dark and thick and metallic, steaming against the white. It kept coming until my stomach was empty. I wiped my mouth and stared at the red stain spreading below the sill. My body was rejecting the choice I had made. The bond I had refused was no longer content to wait. It was tearing me apart from the inside.Another wave hit. I gagged, shoulders shaking, eyes watering. When it passed I stayed there,