My Rouge Luna

CHAPTER 20

Chapter 20

Threads of the Moon

Christa’s P.O.V.

The night air clung to my skin like a second breath, cool and sharp with the bite of pine. I stood by the lake, staring at the rippling surface as if the water might give me answers. My reflection shifted with every breeze sometimes wolf, sometimes woman, sometimes something darker, something I wasn’t ready to name.

Behind me, footsteps crunched against the earth. My sisters. Serenity and Aaliyah moved in quiet tandem, like they’d always been two halves of a single force. Serenity’s hazel eyes were tight with worry, while Aaliyah’s fingers sparked faint blue fire, betraying her temper.

“You look like hell,” Aaliyah said, crouching beside me. Her magic crackled, casting our faces in flickering light. “Healer’s words got to you.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly chilled. The signs speak of new life. That phrase wouldn’t stop echoing.

“I don’t even know if it’s true,” I whispered. “But if it is” My throat closed up. “Everything changes. Not just for me. For us. For all of it.”

Serenity knelt at my other side, her touch grounding when she placed her hand on mine. “Then we change with it. You’re not carrying this alone, Christa. Not ever.”

Her certainty shook me more than Carlos’s wolf ever had. Because for the first time, I believed her.

A twig snapped in the shadows, and instinct had my wolf’s hackles rising. But it wasn’t danger—not exactly. It was Carlos. And he wasn’t alone.

Ricardo and Ramiro flanked him, twin pillars of muscle and shadow. Where Carlos’s aura was a storm pressing against my chest, Ricardo’s felt like tempered steel, cool and watchful. Ramiro, though—his presence was fire, restless and crackling, unable to stay still even in silence.

My sisters stiffened, Aaliyah’s magic flaring brighter. But Carlos raised his hands, palms open.

“We didn’t come to fight,” he said. His voice was deep, steady, but I caught the strain underneath. His wolf didn’t like seeing me here, close to the water, close to escape.

“Then why are you here?” I snapped, though the bond tugged at me, softening the edges of my anger.

Ricardo stepped forward, his gaze sweeping from my sisters back to me. “Because war is coming, whether we want it or not. Your father won’t stop until you’re his—or dead. And none of us are letting that happen.”

Ramiro crossed his arms, his smirk sharp and wolfish. “So, we make a stand. Together.”

The word hung in the air like a challenge.

Serenity arched a brow. “Together? With him?” She jerked her chin at Carlos, who was standing just a little too close, his scent threading around me until I wanted to scream.

Carlos’s eyes burned into mine. “You don’t have to trust me. But you know I’ll bleed before I let anything touch her.”

The bond flared at his words, his wolf’s promise wrapping around me like iron chains. I hated how much comfort it gave me.

Aaliyah looked between us, suspicion written across her face. “Words are cheap. What’s your plan?”

That was when Ricardo reached into his coat and pulled out a folded parchment—old, brittle, edges blackened with age. He laid it on a flat stone by the lakeshore, and as he unfolded it, the faint shimmer of protective wards danced across the surface.

“The Codex,” Serenity breathed.

Ricardo nodded. “Not the whole book. A fragment. But enough.” His finger traced a line of faded script. “There are laws older than the council, older than even your father’s line. And they can work in our favor.”

I leaned closer, my wolf straining against my ribs. The script was jagged, foreign, but my blood seemed to hum in recognition.

“What does it say?” I asked, voice low.

Carlos crouched beside me, too close, his warmth seeping into my bones. “That if a marked wolf carries the heir of an Alpha, her claim cannot be challenged. Not by blood, not by council, not even by war.”

The words crashed over me like a wave. The healer’s omen. The possibility of life inside me. It all tangled together into something vast and terrifying.

“So what—you protect me until the child is born, then crown me like some—” I shook my head, choking on the words. “I’m not a pawn. I won’t be your weapon.”

Carlos’s hand hovered near mine, trembling with restraint. “You’re not a pawn, Christa. You’re the Queen. The Moon chose you, whether you want her gift or not.”

The firelight from Aaliyah’s magic flared, reflecting off Serenity’s fierce gaze. My sisters pressed in closer, shoulders brushing mine. We were a circle—broken, battered, but unyielding.

I met Ricardo’s steady eyes, then Ramiro’s restless grin, and finally Carlos’s storm-dark stare.

“Then we fight,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “But we fight on my terms. No secrets. No chains. No one owns me—not my father, not the council, and not you.”

Carlos’s wolf surged at my defiance, his nostrils flaring, but instead of arguing, he bowed his head once. A promise.

Ricardo exhaled slowly. “Then it’s settled. We plan. We strike. And we end this.”

The lake’s surface rippled as if the Moon herself had heard our vow.

For the first time since the bond flared to life, I didn’t feel trapped. I felt ready.

And I knew this was only the beginning.

The night was still. Too still. I felt it first an itch at the base of my skull, the kind of wrongness my wolf never ignored. A shift in the air, sharp as a blade pressed against my throat.

Then her scent hit me. Clove, roses, and something acrid, like rotting fruit.

Selma stepped from the treeline, her figure draped in shadow. Her eyes gleamed too brightly, her smile stretched too wide. I recognized madness in her stride before she even opened her mouth.

“Well,” she purred, her voice lilting, poisonous sweet, “isn’t this touching? The great Alpha Carlos conspiring by moonlight with his precious little… mate.” Her gaze snapped to me, sharp as a knife. “The slut who stole everything from me.”

Carlos moved instantly, placing his body between mine and hers, a low growl vibrating through his chest. “Selma. Leave.”

Her laugh cracked the silence like broken glass. “Leave? You cast me aside for her, for a half-blood with nothing but her father’s cursed name, and you want me to walk away?” Her hands trembled, and I saw the dagger before she even lifted it, the blade shimmering with silver.

Aaliyah hissed, her fingers sparking blue fire. Serenity shifted her weight, ready to spring.

Selma’s wild gaze darted to me, and then to Carlos, her lip curling. “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

She lunged.

The world narrowed to chaos—silver flashing, Carlos’s roar splitting the night, my wolf surging up so violently I staggered. Carlos caught her first strike, but the dagger bit deep into his forearm. The stench of burning flesh filled the air. He didn’t flinch, just shoved her back with enough force to send her sprawling.

Selma scrambled up, shrieking, eyes rolling with unhinged fury. She came again, this time straight for me.

My heart slammed against my ribs, but before I could move, a wall of fire-blue light erupted between us. Aaliyah’s magic.

“Don’t you dare,” my sister snarled, her voice reverberating with power. “You lay one hand on her, and I’ll end you.”

Selma only screamed louder, slamming herself against the barrier, dagger sparking against the wards. “She’s nothing! She doesn’t deserve him, doesn’t deserve the bond, doesn’t deserve the child”

The words froze me. My stomach clenched. She knew.

Carlos lunged forward, rage tearing through him. “How do you—”

But Selma didn’t answer. She only laughed, high and broken, and threw herself harder against the magical shield. The blade carved the air wild and reckless, her eyes locked on my throat.

And then Aaliyah’s fire shifted from barrier to weapon.

In one breath, the flames leapt from her hands and wrapped Selma like a hungry serpent. She shrieked, thrashing, the silver dagger falling to the dirt with a hiss. For a heartbeat, her face twisted—hatred, jealousy, despair—and then the fire consumed her.

The smell of burning roses and ash filled the clearing.

When the flames died, nothing remained but scorched earth and a twisted dagger, its silver edge still glowing faintly.

Silence pressed down heavy, broken only by the ragged sound of my breathing and Carlos’s low growl as he cradled his burned arm.

Aaliyah stood tall, her magic dimming, but her eyes were hard and wet with unshed tears. “No one,” she said, voice steady, “is taking you from us.”

Serenity moved closer, her hand finding mine, grounding me even as my stomach lurched.

I stared at the ashes, trembling. Selma’s last words echoed like poison in my veins.

Doesn’t deserve the child.

Carlos met my gaze, his storm-dark eyes blazing, wolf still prowling just beneath the surface. “She knew,” he said hoarsely. “Christa, someone told her.”

The lake rippled in the distance, the Moon watching, silent and merciless.

And for the first time, I wondered if Selma’s madness had only been hers—or if she had been someone else’s weapon all along.