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THE STILLNESS BETWEEN CHOICES

Author: Geneva Cross
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-25 22:54:03

Serena.

Darkness. But not the kind that scares children. This was weightless, endless silence. A void where even pain didn’t reach.

Until it did. My ribs ache first, then my temples. Then a thousand invisible strings tug at the corners of my soul, like they are trying to sew me back together after something had torn me in half.

My eyes blink open to soft, flickering candlelight and a face I don’t expect.

Alessia.

She’s sitting near the edge of the room, her hands folded in her lap.

She doesn't speak. Neither do I.

Because the question hanging in the air is louder than anything she could say: Who did you choose?

I wish I knew.

I sit up slowly, realising I'm now alone and seeing Alessia was a figment of my imagination, no Priestess, no Tristan and no Thorne.

I touch my chest, but I don't feel any threads, there's no warmth. Just my skin and heartbeat.

Was the bond broken completely? Did I choose no one?

Or worse… was I never truly meant for either of them?

I hear footsteps. “Serena?
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Latest chapter

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    THE STILLNESS BETWEEN CHOICES

    Serena.Darkness. But not the kind that scares children. This was weightless, endless silence. A void where even pain didn’t reach.Until it did. My ribs ache first, then my temples. Then a thousand invisible strings tug at the corners of my soul, like they are trying to sew me back together after something had torn me in half.My eyes blink open to soft, flickering candlelight and a face I don’t expect.Alessia.She’s sitting near the edge of the room, her hands folded in her lap. She doesn't speak. Neither do I.Because the question hanging in the air is louder than anything she could say: Who did you choose?I wish I knew.I sit up slowly, realising I'm now alone and seeing Alessia was a figment of my imagination, no Priestess, no Tristan and no Thorne. I touch my chest, but I don't feel any threads, there's no warmth. Just my skin and heartbeat. Was the bond broken completely? Did I choose no one?Or worse… was I never truly meant for either of them?I hear footsteps. “Serena?

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    ASHES AND EMBERS

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  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    THE MOON’S JUDGMENT PART ONE

    Serena.His mouth is hot against mine, demanding and unapologetic. There’s no hesitation in Tristan, no gentle testing like Thorne. This is wild, possessive hunger.My back hits the mattress and he’s there, his weight, his heat, the unmistakable presence of the mate bond flaring so bright I feel scorched.His hands slide under my shirt, callused fingertips ghosting over my skin. I arch into the touch, my breath seizing, my thoughts scattering. With Thorne, it was soft and sweet and patient. This is something else entirely.My shirt is gone before I realize it, his mouth trailing heat down my collarbone, nipping, tasting, branding. I gasp his name.“Say it again,” he growls, voice rough against my skin.“Tristan…”He shudders. “You have no idea what you do to me.”And I want to say I think I do, but his hands are everywhere and my body is moving before my mind can keep up. His kisses leave trails of fire, and when our hips meet, clothes forgotten somewhere on the floor, I swear I see

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    FULL MOONS AND HALF-TRUTHS

    Serena.I ignore Tristan’s childish wave and move closer to Thorne, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Thorne's hand settles lightly on the small of my back, steadying me. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tristan’s jaw ticks. So quick did it disappear that I doubt if it truly happened.Athea bows slightly. “My Lords,” she says smoothly to Thorne and Vasquez, then spares me a smirk before turning on her heel.I offer a polite nod to the men, then quickly follow after her. My boots echo in the corridor as I catch up.“What the hell was that?” I hiss, grabbing her arm.She turns, lips still curved. “What?”“You kissed Tristan again? Seriously?”She rolls her eyes. “Relax. I’m just having fun. Besides he isn't complaining is he?”I freeze. “Excuse me?”She leans in, her voice low and irritatingly playful. “Come on, Serena. You and Thorne, me and Tristan? I want to smack her. My hand itches to. But I breathe instead. “You’re wrong.”She laughs, “Sure, if that helps

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    THE THINGS THEY HIDE

    Serena.The torchlight flickers against the stone as I slowly step out from behind the shelf, my heart pounding in my throat. The scroll in my hand feels like it’s burning me. Thorne and Vasquez turn to me, shock carved into their faces.I walk up to them with steady steps, holding out the letter like it’s a weapon. “What’s the meaning of this?”Thorne’s eyes drop to the parchment, and his jaw tightens. He takes it carefully, almost reverently, as if touching it is like waking old ghosts. His silence is long enough to make me want to scream, until finally,“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”“Find out what exactly?” My voice comes out a little too loudly.Thorne looks at Vasquez, who crosses his arms, but stays quiet.“Our fathers,” Thorne begins, his voice distant now, haunted, “they were friends. Blood brothers in all but name. Before you were born, they fought side by side in the Great Siege against a rogue Alpha from across the seas, a wolf

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    THE BLOOD BETWEEN US

    Serena.I don’t, can't sleep. Not even a little. Midnight feels like a lifetime away, but still not enough time to process what just happened.Lyra. Could she be related to me? No, there has to be some mistake. A spy, a resistance agent, sure. But my blood?I pace the room in restless circles, clutching the pendant that’s been with me since childhood like it might bite back. I’d always thought it was a relic, a trinket my mother left behind. Something precious, yes, but meaningless.Now? It means everything.The moon climbs higher, fat and full, casting a cold glow through my window like it’s watching me, judging me.By the time I slip out of the manor, I’m a storm waiting for the right time to wreak havoc.The chapel is silent and in ruins. Its stained-glass windows shattered, pews half-buried in dust. Moonlight filters through the broken roof, lighting the altar like something sacred still lingers here.Lyra is already waiting by the time I get there. Her cloak is pulled low and she

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    THE GREEN EYED SPY

    Serena.I don’t remember backing away from the door. I don’t remember the stone walls pressing cold against my spine, or the way my knees buckled slightly. I only remember the sound of his laugh.Tristan’s laugh. A soft, real belly laugh. He is actually laughing. Not the sharp, hollow thing I’d grown used to. Not the version of him the world sees, untouchable, distant. This laugh had warmth. And it wasn’t meant for me.I shouldn’t care. But gods, I do.And her, Athea. The girl who is justa slave like me. The one who talked my ear off as we trudged along to the stronghold, who disappeared without a trace.What is she doing here? And why is Tristan touching her like she belongs to him?I don’t confront them. I can’t. Not yet. I slip away like a shadow in the hallway, my chest burning with more than just confusion.By morning, my headache feels like it’s carved itself into my skull. I shove my emotions down as best I can and move through my duties like a ghost, but I can feel Sylvaine

  • FROM SLAVE TO LUNA    OF MOONLIGHT AND MASKS

    Serena.The whole meeting hall is as silent as a graveyard. Everyone is holding their breath as if a single exhale would cause the beast that is Thorne to tear them apart.His wolf is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, twice the size it should be, fur the color of the darkest night, eyes burning like lightning. This isn't just a shift, is this his power? growing to an unimaginable size? I don't know what terrifies me more: that no one dares to move, or that deep in my bones, I can feel that something is wrong.Suddenly, Tristan moves. He steps in front of me and shifts. It happens in a blink. His wolf is sleek, silver with streaks of black, not as large as Thorne’s, but pulsing with a power that makes the walls vibrate.And he stands in front of me. Protects me. Tristan has never protected me. He barely tolerates me. But now, his body is a shield between mine and his brother’s fury.Something has changed. Thorne’s growl vibrates through the chamber like an earthquake. He doesn't lunge,

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