His Silent Luna Novels & Stories

It’s clear that I’m just a token of Evander’s past. I begin to weave my way through the crowd as subtly as possible, picking up snippets of chatter as I do. Everyone seems to have already accepted Mira as Evander’s new Luna–and, as I’m hearing over and over again, she’s a much better match for him than “that sickly deaf woman.” Word after word hits like a punch to the gut. “You’re such a lovely couple!” Comments one simpering woman and she approaches Evander a Mira. “Mira, that dress is absolutely stunning,” a young girl gushes. “Please, who’s your stylist?”

In anticipation. Luna walked the sanctuary slowly, her breath syncing with the ley lines, her thoughts heavy. She didn’t feel fractured. She felt full. The vision had shown her a child—eyes like hers, breath like the Grove, rhythm like the flame. But the child hadn’t been born into peace. They had been born into silence. And Luna feared what that silence meant. She knelt beneath the ancient tree and whispered, “I will remember you.” The wind stirred. The flame surged. And the Grove whispered.

Silent Luna's partial divinity through lunar connection provided buffer, but five minutes might still be too much. "I'll monitor," Dimitri promised, light ready to intervene. They sat facing each other, hands clasped. Lyra's concentration was absolute, every fragment of consciousness focused on not destroying this brave, quiet girl who offered connection without words. One minute passed. Then two. By third minute, something shifted. They weren't just touching—they were communicating. Silent Luna's muteness prevented verbal exchange, but something deeper was happening. Understanding without words, connection beyond language. "*She's showing me her memories,*" Lyra whispered in amazement. "*Ho

Luna Chloe added. “Interesting..Did you in any way ask the rogue you caught a question? Did you drill him? What did he say?” Nicholas asked. When Alpha Liam’s Luna, Chloe, noticed that Charlotte was silent, she decided to ask her questions. Normally Luna Chloe was a very terrible gossip. Alpha Nicholas had to put up a show or else, Chloe would tell the whole world that Nicholas had been beating his wife. “What’s wrong, Luna Charlotte. You seem so sick and quiet. Is that a mark on your face? A slap, perhaps,” she was so messy.

The studio lights were low, the kind of warm glow that seemed to melt into the walls, soft enough to blur the sharp edges of memory. Midnight wrapped itself around the city outside, but inside, the air was thick with silence, the kind that presses against your chest before something monumental happens. Luna stood in the vocal booth barefoot, headphones cupping her ears, eyes closed. Her hands trembled at her sides, but her voice, when it came, was steady, not polished, not rehearsed, but naturally raw.

He looked confused. “That isn’t what I asked.” I frowned slightly. He considered my words. “I don’t know what she believes, Aria. I can only tell you what I have said and done.” I nodded slowly. At least he wasn’t pretending to know what was inside Selena’s mind. “Then you need to make one thing clear to her.” I straightened “That I am your Luna.” His expression hardened, not at me but at the suggestion that I might need to prove it.

Then she stopped. A golden light surrounded her. She looked at me, tears floating from her cheeks like tiny stars. “Mama, I think I understand.” “Understand what?” “Why the Silence wants everything.” My blood turned cold. “Luna, don't you dare!” She smiled sadly. “It doesn't want to rule the world.” The blackness curled around her. “It wants a world where nothing ever changes.” She looked down at her glowing hands. “No birth. No death. No love. No loss.”

Just then, Silas's scent reached the doorway; he pushed the door open, carrying a bouquet of yellow roses in his arms. Echo instantly leaped off the bed, his little legs bounding to the doorway in two steps as he hugged Silas's thigh and climbed up him. "Daddy! Look at my drawing!" Silas bent down to pick him up, the exhaustion on his face instantly replaced by tenderness. Watching the scene before them, the pack's curses ceased. "Why would such a happy Luna protect a killer?" "If she truly didn't love them, how could she remember these scenes so clearly?" "Could there really be some hidden grievance that prevents her from naming the killer?"

Isolde couldn't endure watching her beloved husband suffer any longer. She suddenly ran out of her hiding place, screaming like someone had finally let the bitch out of her cage. “Let him go, you horrible saintess!” I turned toward her and stared at her disheveled appearance. I almost laughed. “I'm your Celestial Luna. The one appointed by the Moon Goddess herself. Don't think I'm some lousy saintess.” “Let him go!” She screamed again. This time, I felt my hand growing strangely heavy. My eyes snapped toward Silas.

"If you command them, even once, you’ve reopened the Grave in your own soul." The Silent Luna sat in the center of the obsidian swarm, a tiny spark of silver surrounded by a sea of shadows. I could feel them—millions of cold, empty consciousnesses, waiting for the Queen to tell them whether to save the world or burn it.