All Chapters of THE ALPHA'S FORBIDDEN LUNA: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

POV: Kaelan Ashwood"If you cross that ridge, Titus, you will not be saving her. You will be burying her under four hundred sets of paws. Hold your wolves. Please. I have never begged anyone in my life."The horn was still screaming from the eastern ridge. Long, cold, rolling across the Hollow like a blade drawn over glass. Down in the camp I could hear Ashwood guards shouting, boots slamming, steel ringing out of sheaths. In a matter of minutes my father's whole army would be running at the pines.Titus stood in front of me, white faced, with his burned hand lifted to his own wolves. They had stopped. Four hundred shapes frozen on the slope, hackles raised, waiting for one word."That is not my horn," he said again. "I swear it on Corwin's grave. My signal is two short notes and one long. That was one long and nothing else.""Then who is blowing it?""Someone who wants a war tonight, and wants it blamed on me." He looked at me with something close to despair. "Which is exactly what I

POV: Kaelan Ashwood"My name is Selene Voss. I am the daughter of Alpha Cassian Voss. And last night I watched Elder Hargrave murder Corwin Crane in the Ashwood archive."The words fell into the camp like a stone into a well. The elders went rigid. The guards turned their heads. Across the torchlit square, Alpha Voss did not move, but his hands closed slowly into fists.Selene's fingers dug into mine so hard it hurt."That is a serious accusation," Osric said, wheezing. "Girl, you are tired. You have been traveling. Perhaps you saw a shadow.""I saw a hand." She did not shake. Her voice came out steady and clear. "Left hand. Thin skin. A silver ring on the smallest finger, with a wolf split in two. The man turned the ring three times before he took the page from Corwin's grip. I have watched Elder Hargrave do exactly that for three days at the council table.""Many men wear rings.""Many men turn them three times?" She raised her eyebrows. "Elder Osric, you wear yours on your right ha

POV: Kaelan Ashwood"Say it again, and say it to my face. Who gave you the horn? Who paid you? Who told you to blow it at the exact hour I walked into the camp?"The man on his knees in the snow was young, maybe twenty, with a split lip and hay in his hair. He wore a Crimson Fang cloak that was a size too big. Two of Titus's wolves held his arms. Beside me stood Titus himself, grim as a gravestone, and behind Titus a tall dark haired boy of nineteen with his father's jaw and his father's burned hand. Ronan Crane. Titus's heir. He had arrived at a run, breathless, with a captive in tow."I found him on the east ridge, Father," Ronan said. "Blowing a Crimson war horn I have never seen. The grip was new. The brass was cheap.""I did not know," the captive stammered. "I swear. I was told it was a drill.""By whom?""A man in a gray cloak. He gave me ten silver pieces. He said to blow one long note when the moon touched the third pine, and then run." The boy's teeth chattered. "He said it

POV: Kaelan Ashwood"Your mother did not die of fever, Kaelan. I found her name in Corwin's papers last night, and I have not slept since. I need you to sit down."Marcus said it in a whisper, the way a man speaks in a church. We stood in the shadow of an ancient pine at the edge of Titus's camp, an hour before dawn, with the snow turning gray around our boots. The camp behind us was quiet. Four hundred wolves lay curled in the drifts, waiting. Somewhere beyond the ridge, the Ashwood guards waited too, and I could feel the day coming like a held breath."I am not sitting down.""Kaelan.""Say it standing."Marcus rubbed his face. He looked ten years older than he had a week ago. "Corwin kept a private notebook, tucked inside a hollow book on his shelf. I found it in his archive before the guards locked the door. Mostly dates. Names. Small, careful lines. A man counting what he could not say aloud." He drew a folded page from his coat. "There is a line for your mother.""Show me."He h

POV: Kaelan Ashwood"Look at the sky, Kaelan. Do not look at the crowd. They will pull your eyes in a thousand directions. Look at the moon. It is the only honest thing here tonight."Marcus whispered it as we crossed the last ridge. Dusk had thickened into a cold, bruised purple. Below us, Stone Hollow glowed like a bowl of fire. A thousand torches circled the clearing, and every one of them leaned toward the pale tower of the Founding Stone in the center. Pack banners hung from the pines. Wolves packed the slopes in tight, whispering rows. Ashwood gray. Voss blue. The black and green of three smaller allied packs. All of them had come to watch a Thorne girl end her family's name.And above it all, climbing slowly over the eastern pines, the blood moon.It was enormous. Swollen and red as a coal, so close I felt I could reach up and burn my hand on it. The light poured across the snow in a dull rust color, and every face in the crowd looked like a mask dipped in wine."I am not afrai