Chasing my Luna
They were her truth, not this lie.
She lunged for the loom, her glow flaring, a desperate fire against the void. “You’re not me!” she screamed, pouring her will into the chaotic threads. She wove their bond—Kade’s loyalty, Selene’s wisdom, Lucas’s courage, Bryan’s hope, her own scarred heart—into the tapestry, turning discord to gold. The Betrayer shrieked, its form fracturing, but the loom fought back, threads lashing like whips, drawing blood.
Bab Populer