Semua Bab Dark Luna Rising: Bab 61 - Bab 70

The scent of roasted meat and spiced tea filled the dining chamber, but Diego barely noticed it. His gaze was fixed on Erika. She looked healthy, her dark hair gleaming in the firelight, her posture at ease as she sliced into a piece of bread. No chains, no signs of distress.And beside her—his mother.Dunia met his eyes with a calm, unreadable expression. She took a slow sip from her tea, as if she were at a leisurely brunch rather than in the stronghold of their supposed enemy.Diego’s hands clenched into fists. What the hell was going on?Malrik gestured toward the long wooden table. “Sit, Diego. Eat. We have much to discuss.”Diego barely heard him. His entire world had narrowed to Erika, sitting there as though she belonged.“You’re safe,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.Erika finally looked up at him, her gaze level. “I told you before—I can take care of myself.

The war chamber felt heavier than it should, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions. A single oil lamp cast flickering shadows over the grand oak table, illuminating the tattered map of Blackthorn Prison. Red ink scrawled across it in deliberate lines, marking guard rotations, weak points, and underground passages that could either be a way in—or a death trap.Malrik stood at the head of the table, fingers tapping against the rough parchment. “The prison is fortified on all sides. Outer walls are reinforced with silver-laced stone. Guards at every post. Patrols change every three hours. If your pack is there, they’ll be in the lower levels—where the High Council keeps high-risk prisoners.”Diego’s eyes traced the map, heart pounding at the thought of his people locked away in those cells, at the mercy of their enemies. “So, what’s the plan?”Malrik gave a tight smile. “We get in. We get your p

The air inside Blackthorn Prison was thick with damp stone and the stench of unwashed bodies. The moment Diego stepped through the narrow crack in the outer wall, he felt the shift—a weight pressing down on him, as if the walls themselves knew they didn’t belong.They crouched in the shadows of an abandoned storage chamber, hidden behind rusted crates and barrels that stank of rot. Faint torchlight flickered beyond the barred doorway, casting jagged shadows along the stone floor.Malrik adjusted the dagger at his hip, his lips curled in satisfaction. “Haven’t been in Blackthorn in years. Brings back memories.”Erika shot him a glare. “We’re not here for nostalgia.”Diego ignored them both, scanning the chamber. No guards. No movement. But something felt off.Too easy.Gabriel knelt beside him, whispering, “We need to move. The prison shifts its watch every three hours—we have a smal

The wind was restless that night. Although the pack and everyone they’d rescued from the cage were brought to safety, the air carried whispers of danger as they waited in the abandoned ruins beyond Blackthorn. The mood was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but none of them broke the silence.Hugo and Gabriel took turns watching the horizon for movement. Erika sat calmly beside Malrik while he casually twirled a dagger between his fingers. Bor Khulan would come.Or he wouldn’t.Either way, Diego was prepared for the worst.His fingers twitched at his side, itching to grab his weapon. Everything about this felt like a setup. He didn’t trust Malrik, and he sure as hell didn’t trust the man they were waiting for.Bor Khulan—the rebellion’s supposed benefactor, the one pulling strings in the shadows. Diego had only heard of him through whispers, t

Diego reentered the war chamber at Malrik’s command, his gaze immediately locking onto Erika. She stood tall beside Malrik, her expression composed, unreadable. But there was something about the way Malrik looked at her—something Diego couldn’t quite place. Respect? Trust?Loyalty. A thought that gnawed at him. When had Malrik, a man who trusted no one, started listening to Erika?“The King lives. For now.” Malrik’s voice snapped Diego out of his thoughts.Gabriel and Hugo exchanged glances, but Diego’s focus remained on Erika. She didn’t react. No surprise, no relief. As if she already knew what Malrik would say before he said it.Since when did she have this much influence over him?Malrik turned to Diego. “But make no mistake—this war does not stop. We still strike. But we do it smart.”Diego nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “Then we cut his strings before he cuts ours.”Malrik smirked. “Exactly.”Diego watched as Malrik spread a large map of the capital across the table, t