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Chapter 89: Curse of the Beast
Last Updated:
2025-03-03 01:32:52
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 90: Torn Between Flames
OLIVIA’S POVI perched on the edge of the bed, my knees drawn up, staring at Lucien as he lay sprawled across the sheets. His chest rose and fell, slow and ragged, the scratch marks I’d left on his cheek still red against his skin. My nails had brought him back—snapped him out of Zephyr’s grip—and now he rested, exhaustion pulling him under. The room was quiet, the late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his face. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, my mind churning, torn in two directions I couldn’t untangle. Nine months had slipped by since the mate bonds locked me to Damien and Lucien. Weekends with Damien, every Saturday and Sunday tangled in his sheets at the Fallenstar’s Home, learning him piece by piece. Everyone feared him, whispered about the blood on his hands—his parents, his whole family, slaughtered by his own claws. They called him a monster, a killer who’d snuffed them out to claim power. But I’d seen him wake gasping from nig
Last Updated : 2025-03-03The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 91: Ashes of Vengeance
ALARIC’S POV I leaned back in the leather chair, the dim glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows across my study. The air smelled of smoke and whiskey, the glass in my hand half-empty, its burn a faint echo of the satisfaction simmering in my chest. Thomas Hale was dead—his wife, his daughter, his grandson, all gone. I’d watched the flames swallow their house, the crackle of timber and the screams fading into the night. No bodies left, no graves to mourn—just ash. Damien would feel it, that hollow stab of loss, and it fueled me, a dark joy curling through my veins. The Hales weren’t the first—his housekeeper, an old woman who’d fussed over him since he was seventeen, had bled out under my knife years back. Servants, friends, business partners—anyone he let close, I’d taken, leaving him alone, a king with no court. He deserved it, after what he’d done.The door creaked, and Creed Hunters stepped in, his boots thudding against the hardwood. His lean frame filled the doorway,
Last Updated : 2025-03-07The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 92: Whispers of the Heart
OLIVIA’S POVI sat on the edge of the bed, my legs tucked beneath me, watching Lucien’s chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. The late afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, painting his face in soft gold, the scratch marks I’d left on his cheek still stark against his pale skin. He slept now, his body limp, drained from the curse that had seized him hours ago. Zypher had roared through him, pinning me to the wall, his hands tight around my throat—not him, not really, just the beast Archimedes had forced into him. I’d clawed him back, my nails drawing blood, and he’d crumpled, the violence fading as he sank into this numb, paralyzed state. I pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around his shoulders, my fingers brushing his damp hair.I leaned down, pressing my lips to his forehead, the warmth of his skin grounding me. “You’re always in my heart,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, knowing he couldn’t hear. “This love—it’s not dying, not ever.” My chest tightened,
Last Updated : 2025-03-07The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 93: Echoing in the Void
AALPHA AARON’S POVI slumped in the worn leather chair of my study, the late afternoon sun bleeding through the cracked blinds, casting jagged stripes across the cluttered desk. Papers sprawled before me—maps marked with red Xs, scribbled notes, dead-end leads—all nine months of chasing shadows for Natalie. My fingers curled around the glass of bourbon, the amber liquid trembling as I lifted it to my lips, the burn a fleeting distraction from the ache gnawing at my chest. Olivia’s words echoed, sharp and unyielding: Find Mom, or we’re done. She didn’t know I’d been searching long before she demanded it, years stretching back to that night when my world splintered.The memory clawed its way up, vivid and cruel. Natalie and I had tucked Olivia into bed, her small frame curled under the quilt, her breaths evening out as I finished the last page of her favorite story—The Wolf and the Star. Natalie’s voice had softened the tale, her hand brushing Olivia’s hair, a quiet smile on her lips.
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Olivia's Pov: I barely had time to brace for it before his fist nearly snapped my neck in two with a gut-wrenching blow as I fell hard to the ground, tears welling on my face. “You stupid bitch!", he yelled, his face contorted with rage. He was in one of his moods again, the occasional periods where his wolf starts to lose control and he tears up anything in his way, more than often, I'm usually the one in the way of his tantrums. My hands shook violently as the porcelain cup in my hands hit the ground, shattering to pieces in an echoing screech. At the sound, Lucien lunged for me, his foot stamping hard at my ribs knocking the air out of me. I gasped as I struggled to breathe, my small hands tightening around my chest, but he wasn't done. He grabbed me from the marble floor, throwing me on top of the dining table, his fists balled, eyebrows scrunched in seething anger. Each blow punctuated his lupine rage; he wasn't going to stop; he just kept hitting me across the face
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Damon's Pov: I hate the rain, I thought as I glared out at the rain-soaked trees, droplets of water sliding down the window pane like tears. I turned away from the downpour seeking something to distract myself with, but the cloud outside seemed to have dampened my mind as memories came rushing down to me. Laughter, music, champagne toasts. The Wolvenstar family preferred to live within nature itself. Thus, we lived in a mansion on the outskirts of a forest. That way, whenever we shifted we could run straight into the forest, our real home. Today was the day my eldest brother, Mark, had bonded; he laughed loudly at the head of the table as his mate, Charlotte, now Wolvenstar, smiled timidly as she sat on his lap. Poor girl, my brother would be the death of her soon enough. The house was two hundred years old, a legacy built on sugar and spices; their family was one of the elite of the Werewolves in New Orleans high society; they were happy , everyone feasting, clinking glas
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Olivia's Pov: Two months. I had been divorced and for the first time in ages, I felt young and I took full advantage of it, I spent my time clubbing at night and painting at my gallery by day transferring my feelings onto canvas including my recent one being that of a dark haired Lycan, a gash tearing across one of his eyes. Those were things that I didn't really had the time to do when I was with Lucien, he was an uptight guy who didn't really fancy the idea of his mate running around all over New Orleans. He was quite paranoid for a Lycan. I didn't really get him, sometimes he was a sweet guy, dolling me up with presents, taking me out to see a movie once in a while, you would think he was a nearly perfect husband, but then there were the other times. The times when he would lose control to his wolf, werewolves were supposed to control their wolves to their will, not the other way around, it wasn't exactly an easy thing to do, it had took me five years to take full control o
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Olivia's pov: The bonding itself was about to begin, although the entire ceremony traditionally starts with a member of each of the nine aristocraté families blessing the Werewolf community for the coming days till the next ceremony.It was an ancient rite that had endured till now. That was the boring part though, the interesting part was about to begin as murmurs and whispers amongst the crowd grew louder. “I bet a hundred dollars Amelia Blackwater would bond with Diego Porter", Ben grinned. " Wait”, I laughed," people bet over this? “ " It raises the stakes “, he said. His face became serious." I bet you would bond tonight “. I rolled my eyes as he held my face in his hands. " The stakes are against you, darling," he said, smiling again, “but please don't make me lose a thousand dollars," he pleaded. “A thousand !", I exclaimed as I glared at him, “i can't believe you just threw away a thousand bucks, you idiot". He leaned back, breathing deeply as he wriggled his
Last Updated : 2024-11-19
Latest chapter
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 93: Echoing in the Void
AALPHA AARON’S POVI slumped in the worn leather chair of my study, the late afternoon sun bleeding through the cracked blinds, casting jagged stripes across the cluttered desk. Papers sprawled before me—maps marked with red Xs, scribbled notes, dead-end leads—all nine months of chasing shadows for Natalie. My fingers curled around the glass of bourbon, the amber liquid trembling as I lifted it to my lips, the burn a fleeting distraction from the ache gnawing at my chest. Olivia’s words echoed, sharp and unyielding: Find Mom, or we’re done. She didn’t know I’d been searching long before she demanded it, years stretching back to that night when my world splintered.The memory clawed its way up, vivid and cruel. Natalie and I had tucked Olivia into bed, her small frame curled under the quilt, her breaths evening out as I finished the last page of her favorite story—The Wolf and the Star. Natalie’s voice had softened the tale, her hand brushing Olivia’s hair, a quiet smile on her lips.
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 92: Whispers of the Heart
OLIVIA’S POVI sat on the edge of the bed, my legs tucked beneath me, watching Lucien’s chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. The late afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, painting his face in soft gold, the scratch marks I’d left on his cheek still stark against his pale skin. He slept now, his body limp, drained from the curse that had seized him hours ago. Zypher had roared through him, pinning me to the wall, his hands tight around my throat—not him, not really, just the beast Archimedes had forced into him. I’d clawed him back, my nails drawing blood, and he’d crumpled, the violence fading as he sank into this numb, paralyzed state. I pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around his shoulders, my fingers brushing his damp hair.I leaned down, pressing my lips to his forehead, the warmth of his skin grounding me. “You’re always in my heart,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, knowing he couldn’t hear. “This love—it’s not dying, not ever.” My chest tightened,
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 91: Ashes of Vengeance
ALARIC’S POV I leaned back in the leather chair, the dim glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows across my study. The air smelled of smoke and whiskey, the glass in my hand half-empty, its burn a faint echo of the satisfaction simmering in my chest. Thomas Hale was dead—his wife, his daughter, his grandson, all gone. I’d watched the flames swallow their house, the crackle of timber and the screams fading into the night. No bodies left, no graves to mourn—just ash. Damien would feel it, that hollow stab of loss, and it fueled me, a dark joy curling through my veins. The Hales weren’t the first—his housekeeper, an old woman who’d fussed over him since he was seventeen, had bled out under my knife years back. Servants, friends, business partners—anyone he let close, I’d taken, leaving him alone, a king with no court. He deserved it, after what he’d done.The door creaked, and Creed Hunters stepped in, his boots thudding against the hardwood. His lean frame filled the doorway,
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 90: Torn Between Flames
OLIVIA’S POVI perched on the edge of the bed, my knees drawn up, staring at Lucien as he lay sprawled across the sheets. His chest rose and fell, slow and ragged, the scratch marks I’d left on his cheek still red against his skin. My nails had brought him back—snapped him out of Zephyr’s grip—and now he rested, exhaustion pulling him under. The room was quiet, the late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his face. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, my mind churning, torn in two directions I couldn’t untangle. Nine months had slipped by since the mate bonds locked me to Damien and Lucien. Weekends with Damien, every Saturday and Sunday tangled in his sheets at the Fallenstar’s Home, learning him piece by piece. Everyone feared him, whispered about the blood on his hands—his parents, his whole family, slaughtered by his own claws. They called him a monster, a killer who’d snuffed them out to claim power. But I’d seen him wake gasping from nig
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 89: Curse of the Beast
LUCIEN’S POVI stood in the living room, the afternoon light spilling through the tall windows of the mansion, casting long shadows across the hardwood. My joggers hung low on my hips, the black singlet clinging to my chest, and the coffee mug warmed my hand as I took a slow sip. Olivia was due back today—Monday, her weekday with me—and my blood hummed with anticipation. Nine months she’d been splitting herself between me and Damien, weekdays here, weekends there, a dance I’d grown used to but never liked. I didn’t know for sure what she did with him, didn’t ask, but I felt it—her body carried his echo sometimes, faint and infuriating. That first hickey, two months into this mess, had been proof enough. Since then, I’d buried the question, let it fester in silence. She came back to me ready, always, her heat a wildfire I couldn’t resist.The curse gnawed at me, though, sharper now than ever. Zephyr—my Lycan half—clawed inside, restless, violent, a storm I couldn’t tame. Maximus, my a
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 88: Bloody Revenge
DAMIEN’S POVI stood in my study, the late morning light filtering through the tall windows, glinting off the whiskey glass in my hand. My black joggers hung low, my chest bare, water dripping from my hair onto my shoulders, fresh from the shower. The room smelled of oak and leather, but Olivia’s scent lingered—wild, sweet, a ghost from last night. She’d left for Lucien’s place hours ago, her weekend with me over, and I hated it. Nine months of this—two days a week with her, five with him—and it wasn’t enough. I wanted her here, always, her heat pressed against me, her voice in my ear. The imbalance gnawed at me, a raw ache I couldn’t shake. I took a sip, the burn sliding down my throat, and my mind slipped back to last night. She’d stormed in here, her eyes locked on me as I hunched over maps and notes, chasing Alaric’s shadow. Papers sprawled across the desk—leads, dead ends, whispers of where my brother might be. He was a phantom—human towns one day, werewolf packs the next, alwa
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 87: Whispers of the Damned
VLADIMIR’S POV I woke with a start, the afternoon sun clawing through the heavy drapes of my bedroom, casting jagged shadows across the oak floor. My fingers curled around the tumbler of whiskey I’d clutched even in sleep, the amber liquid sloshing as I sat up, the leather headboard creaking under my weight. Two weeks had passed since my last clear thought—two weeks of restless nights, haunted by visions of Selene’s return. The cult was running out of time, the threads of our purpose fraying, and every heartbeat thrummed with the weight of it. I took a long swallow, the burn steadying me, and let my gaze drift to the sprawl of my mansion beyond the open door—marble halls, gilded frames, a hollow empire built on faith and blood.The sheets rustled beside me, and I turned to see Claire, her hair spilling over the pillow, her bare shoulder peeking from beneath the silk. She’d slipped in that morning, silent as a shadow, her scent—jasmine and deceit—still clinging to the air. Alpha Aaro
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 86: Flames Unbound
BEN’S POVI jolted awake, the afternoon sun slanting through the blinds, casting gold across my tangled sheets. My head throbbed, a dull ache from a night spent tossing, my mind gnawing at Olivia’s choices. She’d slept with Damon—Damon, of all people—when I’d been so sure her heart still belonged to Lucien. Three years of marriage, spilt by three measly months, and she’d told me everything after—how empty she’d felt, how the void lingered. As her best friend, I’d listened, nodded, believed she’d run back to Lucien the second their mate bond snapped into place. Yet here she was, tangled up with Damon too, and it felt like a knife in my gut. Betrayal, plain and simple, even if she didn’t see it that way. I rubbed my face, groaning as I sat up, the bed cold beside me. Aslaug had stormed out last night, fed up with my pacing, my muttering. “I can’t watch you obsess over her anymore,” she’d snapped, her dark eyes flashing before she grabbed her keys and left for her own place. I hadn’t b
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 85: Blood on My Hands, Lust in My Veins
MAYOR LARRY’S POV: I had just returned back to my home after an unexpected visit from Damon. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of my penthouse, the city skyline glittering below like a taunt. My reflection stared back—gray streaks in my hair, lines etched deep around my eyes, a man hollowed out by hate. The tumbler of whiskey burned in my grip, the ice clinking as I swirled it. Werewolves. Filthy, treacherous beasts. They’d taken everything—Natalie, my sister, my peace—and left me with nothing but this gnawing need to see them bleed. Natalie’s face flickered in my mind, unbidden. Those wide green eyes, the freckles dusting her nose, the way she’d laughed as a kid, chasing me through our parents’ sprawling estate. Adopted, sure, but mine—my little shadow. Mom and Dad found her abandoned, a scrawny thing wrapped in rags, and raised her human. We didn’t know what she was until she hit eighteen, when the wolf broke through—claws shredding her prom dress, eyes glowing gold. She cou
