All Chapters of Too Late, Prince! I’m No Longer Your Chubby Luna: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

LYDIA POVNine months had passed like a beautiful, fleeting dream, washing away the dark memories of the Deep Trench and filling the High Keep with warmth, laughter, and light.Today, the grand courtyard of Stormfang was transformed into a paradise of blooming white lilies, shimmering silk banners, and golden ribbons. Benches lined the manicured stone garden, where regional lords, high commanders, and loyal pack members gathered in high spirits. Music filled the air, played by sweet-sounding harps and flutes, celebrating the grand royal baby shower for the impending birth of the High Alpha’s heirs.I sat on a comfortable velvet lounge cushioned with thick fur, dressed in a flowing gown of pristine white silk embroidered with silver thread. My belly was now a heavy, beautiful curve resting on my lap.Beside me, Adrian looked utterly breathtaking. He wore a regal tunic of dark navy velvet, trimmed with silver embroidery that matched my dress. His stormy gray eyes sparkled with a unchara

LYDIA POVThe icy mountain wind howled across the jagged edge of the high cliff like a dying beast.Two hundred feet below, the black, swollen waters of the roaring mountain river smashed violently against jagged jagged rocks, throwing freezing white spray into the dark night air. Rain lashed down in blinding sheets, soaking my dark hair and washing the crimson blood from my torn white silk dress down into the mud."AHHHHHHH!"A soul-shattering scream tore from my throat as I collapsed onto the wet gravel, my spine bending backward in raw, agonizing labor. The Void-Nightshade poison Patrick had slipped into my drink was burning through my veins like liquid fire, forcing my body into violent, unnatural contractions while violently suppressing the divine White Light of my origin-core."Push, my Luna! You must push!" Mary wept frantically, her hands trembling as she knelt between my bloody knees on the cold, wet stone, using her own body to shield my lower half from the freezing gale. "I

PATRICK POVThe silver throne felt freezing cold against my back.For Months, I had watched Adrian sit upon this carved velvet seat in the Great Hall of Stormfang, looking down at the world with his insufferable High Alpha arrogance. Now, the heavy silver crown of the United Realm rested upon my own head, its sharp iron points pressing into my brow like a ring of ice.Yet, as I looked out across the vast, stone council chamber, the hall felt suffocatingly empty.The grand banquet tables were gone, replaced by rows of stern, conservative pack lords and iron-armored commanders who had supported my coup. The sweeping white silk drapes that Lydia had hung during her peaceful reign had been torn down and burned in the courtyard, replaced once more by the dark, heavy iron banners of the old bloodline."The Western Marches have been fully reclaimed, High Alpha," Elder Corvus declared, standing at the center of the hall with a thick scroll in his hands. "The omega building guilds have been di

{Human Worlds}CLARA POVRaising Alora was like tending to a delicate flame that refused to be put out by any cold mountain wind.From the very moment she took her first steps in our small Oakridge cottage, I knew she was fundamentally different from any child I had ever seen. She didn't cry or throw tantrums the way other village toddlers did. Instead, her large, breathtaking silver-gold eyes were always full of a quiet, ancient understanding—as though she were looking straight through you and into the hidden heart of the world itself.As the seasons turned and years bled into one another, I poured everything I had into raising her. I taught her how to tend the rich herb garden behind our wooden house, how to weave soft wool by the fireside on bitter winter nights, and how to treat the sick with wild chamomile, lavender, and crushed willow bark."Look, Mommy," ten-year-old Alora whispered softly one sunny afternoon deep in the high woods, holding out her small, pale hands.A wild mou

{Human Worlds}ALORA POVMy hands were still trembling by the time I pushed open the heavy oak door of room 312 in Oak Hall.I leaned my back against the thick wood, letting out a long, shuddering breath that rattled in my chest. The dorm room was small, lit by a single tall window that looked out over the northern quadrangle, its stone sill dusted with pale autumn frost. My heavy leather bag sloughed off my shoulder and hit the floorboards with a dull thud.What was that?I brought my fingers up to my lips, pressing them tightly to stop the nervous shaking. The ghost of that sensation—that violent, blinding surge of liquid heat—was still humming through my veins. It felt as though a lightning bolt had struck the stone plaza between us, tearing through the quiet, hidden ember of my White Light and fanning it into a roaring furnace.I walked over to the small wooden desk near the window and leaned over the glass mirror mounted on the wall.I unbuttoned the top collar of my wool coat, s