บททั้งหมดของ Dark Luna Rising: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

The clock ticked on, the soft hum of its gears blending with the night’s stillness. But Erika wasn’t listening. Sleep eluded her, chased away by the haunting replay of the rogue attack earlier that day. The sounds, the scents, the rush of adrenaline—they wouldn’t leave her mind. No matter how many times she closed her eyes, the memories played like a broken reel, looping endlessly.With a sigh, she kicked off her blankets, feet hitting the cold floor as she shuffled toward the kitchen. Maybe baking would help. It always had. Something about the rhythm of kneading dough had a way of calming her nerves. She pulled on an apron, gathered the ingredients, and got to work.Her hands moved with practiced ease—kneading, folding, striking the dough with her fists. But her mind was far from still. She couldn’t help but think about Diego. She was grateful for his rescue, of course. If Diego’s pack hadn’t arrived when they did, she&r

Erika paced her room, the floor creaking faintly beneath her boots. She clenched and unclenched her fists as frustration coursed through her veins, burning hotter with each passing second. Diego’s voice still echoed in her mind, firm and resolute, as though he already knew what was best for her. And Gabriel… someone she had begun to trust, had betrayed that fragile faith by siding with Diego without so much as a glance in her direction.She yanked open the closet, pulling out a few clothes at random and tossing them onto the bed. Her fingers trembled as she struggled to focus on anything other than the rising tide of anger within her. They weren’t just trying to protect her—they were trying to control her. Again.“I’m not a child,” she muttered through gritted teeth, her breath quickening. “Can’t they see that?” The words felt hollow, spoken to an empty room that offered no answers. “I don’t need their protection if that means putting me back in a cage.”She glanced toward the window,

Erika stirred, the faint scent of damp stone and earth filling her nose. She tried to move, but her body felt like stone, weighed down and unresponsive. Panic bloomed in her chest as she realized she couldn’t even lift a finger. Her eyes fluttered open, only to be greeted by a dim, shadowy room, its walls made of uneven stones and mortar. A strange silence surrounded her, broken only by the distant sounds of vague conversations and—children’s laughter?Her breath hitched, heart racing. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was running into the woods, desperate to escape, only to feel a sharp sting on the back of her neck before darkness claimed her. The sack shoved over her head. The searing pain.Had she been drugged?Her thoughts tangled into a frantic mess. It had been a mistake to run into the woods, but at the time, it seemed like her only option. Still, it didn’t explain why she was here or why the assassins hadn’t killed her. Unless… this wasn’t their doing.Gradually, h

Erika scrambled to her feet as the dark figure advanced, his heavy boots crunching on the splintered remains of the door. His aura filled the room, oppressive and cold, like a shadow given form. He was tall, with broad shoulders draped in a cloak as black as night, and a hood that obscured most of his face. Yet even without seeing his eyes, Erika felt the intensity of his gaze locking onto her.Tristan stepped in front of her, half-shifting into his Lycan form, claws extended, ready to attack. “Stay back,” he growled, his voice guttural and primal. “You’re not taking her.”The figure paused, tilting his head slightly, as if amused by Tristan’s defiance. Slowly, he reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing sharp, angular features and hair so dark it seemed to blend into the shadows around him. His eyes, a deep, unnatural crimson, flickered with something Erika couldn’t quite place—recognition? Curiosity?&ldquo

A faint chill seeped into Erika’s skin as she stepped further into the dark cavern. Shadows clung to the walls, cast by flickering lanterns mounted on jagged stone. The hideout smelled of damp earth, wood smoke, and something metallic—like blood dried long ago. Malrik walked ahead, his boots crunching against the gravel floor, the sound echoing eerily in the cavernous space. He said nothing as they navigated the winding passage, but Erika could feel his presence looming, his energy oppressive.The passage opened into a larger chamber. Wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, supporting the rocky ceiling. Makeshift furniture—a long table, mismatched chairs, and a few cots—were scattered around the room. The remnants of a fire smoldered in a stone hearth at the far end, casting a dull orange glow over the scene. There was a strange stillness about the place, as if it were caught between being abandoned and barely lived in.Erika caught sight of movemen