Lahat ng Kabanata ng Moonbound Desire: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Lyra’s POV The sky bled. The ground was damp beneath my palms as I pushed myself upright. Above me, the moon loomed impossibly large, larger than it had been the last time I was here. Its bright red light spilled across the entire forest. “Not again…” I whispered. I looked around, there was something very different. More different than the last. It was like the Bloodmoon was angry but for what? Something was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it. A surge of panic flooded through me, then there was that pull. Deep. Ancient. Then images started to flood my mind without warning, wolves kneeling beneath crimson skies. Glowing eyes lifted in reverence and fear. My name being yelled out. I staggered, clutching my head. “Stop it!” Then the sound of footsteps caught my attention. I froze, my chest rising and falling. Slowly I turned and there from between the trees, a figure emerged, tall and solid. My shoulder shagged in relief, I didn’t even have to ask who it was, I just knew. “R

Lyra’s POV Cold iron bit into my wrists as Lucien’s men started to chain me. One made sure the chain wouldn’t break free from the concrete floor. It was like they were chaining me onto a sacrificial altar; stone slabs carved with ancient runes. Exposed to the sky and the watching forest around us. The area was too open for me to try and escape; I would be too exposed if I tried to make a run for it. Not like my body would allow me to do so anyway. One of the men yanked the chain a little too hard and I fell to the ground. I fell to my knees and the man chuckled softly. “Careful,” The other man sneered. “Lucien will kill you if anything comes to her.” “Yeah, yeah whatever. What does he plan to do with her anyway? This place has been abandoned for years. As far as I know this was used in the Bloodmoon rituals. But no one has ever used it again, look at the state of it.” The dark-haired man said. The one with lighter hair, almost a light brown, or blond I couldn’t quite make out.

Lucien’s POV The fear in Ronan’s eyes fuelled something within me. Happiness? Excitement? Whatever it was I was enjoying it. Sharp, desperate, threaded with fury radiated off him, and he couldn’t act on it. Ronan had always been predicable. Father’s perfect son. Exactly why this would hurt so much more, and the fact seeing him is this state. Defenceless, useless, made my heart flutter with joy. The platform hummed beneath my boots, the old runes responding eagerly to the rising of the Bloodmoon. These runes were waiting for the moment they would be fed with the blood of an Alpha. Glancing over at Lyra, she was weak but with the help of Ronan’s blood she would regain her strength and be able to complete her transition. I just had to wait for the perfect timing. Everything had a time, otherwise the ritual won’t work. “You see,” I said calmly, taking out a dagger. “The Bloodmoon was never about holding a pack together, it was all about domination. That’s the lie the elders had always

Lyra’s POV Standing before the mirror as I adjusted the flowers in my hair. The dress laid out on the bed was a wine-red colour, cut simply but edged with fine embroidery that shimmered when the light touched it. My ceremonial dress. Ronan had personally chosen the dress, he said it matched my wolf eyes. There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in.” I said as I struggled to position one of the flowers. The door creaked open and Ronan’s refection appeared in the mirror. “Hey.” I said with a soft smile. “Wow. The flowers suite you perfectly.” He glanced over at the dress. “Mind if I help you?” Stepping closer, I lowered my hands and watched as he adjusted the flower I’ve been struggling with. “There. Perfect.” I looked at my lap, fiddling with the seem of the towel. Looking up to meet Ronan’s gaze through the mirror. “Everything doesn’t have to be prefect. You just need to show up.” He said gently. I managed a small smile. “I don’t think perfection is possible after everything.”

Lyra’s POV Months had passed, and today was my wedding day. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the room, making the room warm and inviting. The scent of wildflowers and pine lingered in the air, Ronan’s choice of my wedding bouquet. He said roses were too fragile for a bond meant to endure eternity. I stood before the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. My gown flowed like liquid moonlight, fitted at the bodice before cascading down in layers of silk and lace. Also, Ronan’s choice. It was threaded with fine silver thread of ancient symbols, old pack runes, older magic. It was hand stitched. Strangely, I didn’t want to wear it, it looked like something that had to be frames and displayed in the packhouse. My hair was half pinned, soft waves spilling over my shoulders, and a delicate circlet of stones resting against my crown. Red and noticeable. This was to show I was a Lune in truth and not just in title. Taking a slow breath, trying to steady my tr