Todos los capítulos de The Luna’s Faith: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Olivia’s POVThe first rumor was like one drop of ink falling into clear water.Three days after we arrived, I stood by the tall window in my room and watched the capital wake beneath the pale autumn sky. Below, the courtyards were already busy with messengers, nobles, and servants moving through the palace as if nothing had ever gone wrong. None of them knew that the Celestial Wolf they had once whispered about was alive and watching from above.That was about to change.Dorian entered without knocking. He had started doing that in the mornings, always pausing for a moment first, as if giving me time to decide whether I wanted the door between us closed. Today, I had left it open. He carried a folded piece of paper and wore the calm look of a man who had already thought through every possible result.“It is ready,” he said.I took the paper from him. The message was short and written to sound like simple gossip:*They say the Luna of Black Dynasty did not die in the silver cave. They

Dorian’s POVThe dream always began the same wayI tasted metal and something sweet. Vanessa sat across from me with the soft smile she used when she pretended the child inside her was mine. Then the poison spread through my body, bringing a deep cold with it. That was when I understood the truth: the woman I had called my wife had chosen my brother and decided I was more useful dead than aliveI woke with a scream burning in my throatThe room was dark, except for the moonlight shining through the half-open curtains. My heart beat hard against the scar on my chest, as if it wanted to tear the old wound open. Sweat cooled on my skin, and for a few seconds, I did not know where I was. All I could remember was dirt falling over a body the world had already decided to buryThen the present returned—the royal palace, the rooms beside each other, the contract, and OliviaI wiped my face and forced myself to breathe slowly. Years of practice had taught me how to hide the worst memories behi

Olivia's POVThe royal ball came on a clear, cold night, and nothing about it felt like chance.I hadn't thought I would stand under the ballroom's crystal lights so soon. The smaller party three nights before had only been a first step — enough to plant the truth of my return in the court's mind, enough to set the eastern lands buzzing with questions. This night was bigger. Every pack leader, every noble with ambition, every pair of watching eyes would be here. Cassian called it a chance worth taking. Dorian called it a risk we had to take. I called it the night the woman who left me for dead would finally have to look at me.My gown wasn't the silver-and-black one from before. This one turned from near-black at the hem to bright silver at the top, like moonlight poured over a shadow. I left my hair loose, save for a thin braid that circled my head like a quiet crown. I wore no jewels — I didn't need them. The faint glow under my skin, the one my gift refused to hide, was enough. Let

Olivia's POVI could not sleep after the ball.Vanessa's shocked face and the sharp sound of my palm against her cheek still played behind my eyes. Cynthia's stumble, the watching crowd, the way Dorian had looked at me afterward in the corridor — it all turned over and over in my mind like something restless and half-wild. By the time the palace fell into the deepest part of the night, the power inside me had begun to answer that unease with a low, steady heat of its own.I got up, pulled a dark cloak over my nightgown, and left my room without lighting a lamp.The private training yard waited under a sky full of stars. The moon had thinned since our last session, but its pale glow still touched the packed dirt and the cracked wooden post I had split days before. I walked to the center of the open space and let the cloak slip from my shoulders. Night air brushed my bare arms and throat. I closed my eyes and reached inward.The gift rose differently this time.Before the ball, it had n

Olivia's POVThe dream began with water.Not the cold black of the silver cave, and not the plain streams in the capital's gardens. This was the sacred river again — glowing, slow, thick with moonlight that seemed to breathe. I stood at its edge without the tiredness of dying or the fear of coming back to life. My bare feet sank a little into smooth, pale sand. The air held no smell of blood or poison, only the clean, cool feel of a place that existed half in the world and half outside it.I knew I wasn't alone.The presence I had felt at the edge of my power for days now stood fully in front of me, though she had no fixed shape. Sometimes she looked as tall and bright as the oldest temple statues. Sometimes she was only a gathering of pale light that the river itself seemed to lean toward. When she finally spoke, her voice didn't come through my ears. It rose from the same place in my chest where the gift lived.You have started reading the old records. Good. Memory is the first step