All Chapters of The Luna With Ruin: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Month eight hit hard. Jasmina woke exhausted. Moved slowly. Everything hurt. Back. Hips. Legs. Feet swollen. Breathing difficult with the baby pressing on her lungs."You need to rest more," Damoew said."Can't. Too much to do.""Delegate. That's why you have advisors.""I'm trying. But some things only Alpha can handle."Morning council was torture. Sitting hurt. Standing hurt. Everything hurt.Jetstar reported. "Alliance responses are coming in. Oakwood, Pinewood, and Clearwater will stand with us if war comes. Riverside and Shadowpine are hesitating. Eastern Vale is still deciding.""Vincent's hesitating? He allied with us personally.""He's weighing options. Three packs against us is serious. He might not want Eastern Vale drawn into that fight.""Understood. Keep me updated."Stefan added, "Training's intensified. Warriors are ready. But we're still outnumbered if all three western packs attack together.""How bad?""They've got maybe two hundred warriors combined. We have eight

Three weeks until the deadline. Month eight, week four.The birthing room was ready. Fully warded. Three healers assigned. Supplies stocked. Everything prepared.Jasmina inspected it with Meredith. "This is where I'll give birth.""This is where you'll survive giving birth. There's a difference."The room was sparse. Bed. Medical equipment. Herbs. Candles. Chalk symbols covering every surface."The wards will contain the baby's magic," Meredith explained. "When she's born, her power will explode. Natural response. These wards catch that explosion. Keep it from destroying the packhouse.""How much power are we talking about?""Honestly? I don't know. She's carrying dual magic from you and Damoew. Plus whatever the vault gave her. Could be massive.""Could kill me during birth?""Could kill everyone in the room. That's why we're warding." Meredith touched the symbols. "These are the strongest protections I know. They'll hold. Probably.""Probably?""Your daughter is unprecedented. I'm w

Jasmina pushed. Screaming. Every muscle straining. The baby fighting to be born.Outside, war raged. Metal clashing. Wolves howling. Magic exploding. Her pack fighting for survival.Inside, a different battle. Life versus death. Pain versus purpose. Agony versus love."Again," Meredith commanded. "Push harder. I can see the head."Another contraction. Jasmina bore down. Pushed with everything she had. The baby's magic surged with the effort. Massive explosion contained by wards. The symbols blazed white-hot. Crackling. Barely holding."The wards won't last much longer," one healer warned. "The baby's power is too strong.""They'll last long enough," Meredith said. "Keep pushing, Jasmina. Almost there.""I can't," Jasmina gasped. "Can't do this. Too much. Everything's too much.""You can. You are. One more push and the head's out."Outside, someone screamed. A death scream. One of her warriors maybe. Dying while she lay here helpless.Rage flooded through her. Grief. Determination.She

She woke to Kira's crying at six.Damoew was already up. He was sitting in the chair by the window with the baby against his chest, trying to figure out the logistics of the situation with a look on his face like he was solving a battlefield problem."She's hungry," Jasmina said."I know. I was trying to—" He looked up. "I don't have what she needs.""No. You don't."She pushed herself upright. Every muscle in her lower body registered its complaint. Meredith had warned her about this—two to three days before she'd feel close to normal, a week before she'd feel strong. She took the pain, noted it, filed it away.Damoew transferred Kira carefully. He'd figured out how to hold her sometime in the night—that instinctive cradle that new fathers either had or had to learn. He had it.Kira latched immediately, furious and efficient."She's aggressive," Damoew said."She gets that from you."He sat back down on the chair. Outside the warded room, the pack was already moving. She could feel i

Gareth didn't sleep.He sat at the head of the command table in the logging camp and stared at the map while his men moved around him, tending wounds, counting losses, not meeting his eyes.Eleven dead. Twenty-two wounded. A full retreat before dawn.He'd had 220 warriors.She'd had eighty.He pressed his knuckles into the table."Gareth." Silas of Bloodmoon dropped into the chair across from him. He was a compact man, always looked calm, wasn't. "Talk to me.""We underestimated the alliance numbers.""We knew about the alliance.""We underestimated how tight it held." Gareth looked up. "Vincent's people fought like it was their own territory. That wasn't in the reports.""Because Vincent wasn't supposed to send fighters. He was supposed to send a letter of support and stay home." Silas laced his fingers together. "He sent forty warriors instead. That changes the math.""I'm aware.""So we need new math."Gareth stood. Walked to the map. It was spread across the whole table—hand-drawn