From Slave to Queen, Yet Never His Luna
Their minds were dragged back to three years ago—to the Moon Chalice, to the false charges that damned me.
Lily’s lips trembled. She whispered weakly:
“But… hitting is still wrong.”
Her tears spilled again, and Liam’s heart clenched at once.
He turned his fury on me, his voice slicing like a knife:
“Lily’s right. No matter what, you can’t hit someone. And you—” His eyes pinned me, burning with icy disdain.
“You can’t even swim. Nina, you’re lying.”
He said it with such certainty.
As though he knew every detail of my life.