All Chapters of The Luna's Tattoos: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

VLADIMIR’S POVI slipped into the chamber, my boots silent on the damp stone, the air heavy with mildew and the faint hum of power. The Selene Cult’s meeting hall stretched before me, a cavernous hollow carved beneath New Orleans’ underbelly, its walls jagged and torchlit, shadows dancing wild. The long table sat crooked, its wood scarred, ringed by figures draped in cloaks—representatives from the Ashworth, Blood Wagon Pack, Black Pack, and half a dozen other factions, their voices rising, sharp and frayed. I took my seat at the far end, my hands folding in my lap, my eyes scanning slow, steady, taking it all in. I’d always stayed quiet here, a shadow among the loud, letting their words spill while I weighed them, measured them.Vladimir stood at the head, his broad frame tense, his graying hair swept back, his cloak billowing as he braced his hands on the table. His jaw clenched tight, his eyes darting, catching the heat aimed his way. The room buzzed, restless, the air thick with y

LUCIEN’S POVI sat on the couch, my elbows braced on my knees, my hands clasped tight, the living room dim under the flicker of a single lamp. Damien sprawled across from me, his boots kicked up on the coffee table, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his fingers tapping restless on the armrest. The clock ticked past midnight, the house silent except for the low hum of our voices, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of whiskey we’d poured earlier. We’d been at it for hours, hashing out Daiki—his wounds, his fight, his survival.“He’s tougher than we thought,” I said, my voice low, my gaze flicking to Damien, catching the shadow of relief in his nod. “Saw him today—Blackbeard’s got him patched up good. Breathing steady, talking shit like always.”Damien smirked, faint, his hand scrubbing his jaw, stubble rasping under his fingers. “Yeah—Fenri’s mercy, that bastard’s still kicking. Took three of Alaric’s goons down before they got him. Doc says he’ll pull through.”I leaned

MAYOR LARRY’S POVI sank into the chair, my hands trembling as I gripped the sketch, the rough paper crinkling under my fingers, Natalie’s face staring up at me—those wide eyes, that sharp jaw, frozen in ink, unchanged from the girl I’d last seen decades ago. The cabin’s dim light flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across the table where Damien and Lucien loomed, their broad frames tense, their gazes piercing. My breath hitched, my lips quivering, my chest tight with a flood of memory and shock. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t steady the shake in my bones, the mug of coffee forgotten, cooling beside me.Damien leaned forward, his hands braced on the table, his voice low and firm. “Explain, Larry—how’s she your sister? You’re human. She’s a werewolf, you’re not. Start talking.”Lucien nodded beside him, his green eyes narrowing, his arms crossed, waiting. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my tongue thick as I cleared it, the sound raspy in the quiet. My fingers tightened on the s

ASLAUG’S POVI sat on the edge of my bed, my knees pulled tight to my chest, my arms wrapped around them, the room dim and silent except for the faint hum of the estate beyond my door. The curtains hung heavy, blocking the midday sun, casting long shadows across the hardwood, my sanctuary since I’d fled back here a week ago—back to Father’s sprawling mansion, away from Ben, away from the sting of his absence. My phone lay dark on the nightstand, ignored, its screen blank after days of dodging his calls, his texts, his voice pleading through the static. I’d locked myself in, told the maids no visitors, no exceptions, my heart a knot of anger and ache I couldn’t untangle.My mind drifted, restless, circling back to her; Olivia Black, her dark hair, her easy laugh, the way she pulled Ben’s gaze like gravity I couldn’t fight. I’d felt it years ago, long before the mating ceremony tied me to him, long before the Moon Goddess paired us in that crowded hall. Back then, I’d been sixteen, tra

OLIVIA’S POV I floated in the pool, my body weightless, the water lapping cool against my skin, my breaths slowing as the sun dipped low, painting the sky orange. Lucien stood at the edge, his chest bare, his jeans slung low, water dripping from his hair, his green eyes glinting with a heat that hadn’t faded. My legs trembled, weak from him—his dick, thick and relentless, pounding me raw just minutes ago, his release still warm inside me, a thrill I couldn’t shake. I’d craved this for two weeks—him inside of me, by the pool, a fantasy I’d teased into life today and now I wanted more of him.“Lucien,” I murmured, my voice soft, my arms resting on the edge, my breasts brushing the tiles, still bare from the bikini top I’d tossed away. “I can’t walk—my legs are jelly. Can you carry me inside?” He smirked slowly and wickedly, his hands flexing as he crouched, his muscles shifting under his skin. “Wore you out, huh?” he said, his voice rough, his arms sliding under me, lifting me easy, w