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His Broken Luna From The Shadows

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 622    |    Released on: Today at 14:16

d her for ten full seconds. The

pose, every muscle in her bod

s door open and steppe

blocking the sun. His shadow fell ov

n involuntary

his notice. His eyes seemed to

ried to see you li

his actions that had nothing to do with her, everything to do

if his words stemmed from genuine concern for Iris or from t

ng to do with her. This

l other emotions, leaving onl

ite, distant pleasantry. "If it is fo

he made it clear: she was getting in the ca

ee, she moved toward the door herself,

ping form, his gloved hands clench

ace would allow. The air was thick with the scent of cedar and cold winter air that clun

and the small spac

a small, elegant first-aid box. He opened it. Insi

olding the box out to her. His

k at his face. She did not take it. "Thank you, Your G

rd time she had thrown her

natched the pot, twisted the lid off wi

ng to do i

tch flipped in her mind, and she

corum!" she snapped, scrambling back into the c

nt it stopped him cold. H

sgust in her eyes. A flicker of something-hu

placed the pot of ointment on th

wish," h

indow, his profile a hard, unforgivin

ed was a thousand times

e of Montgomery Manor. For Eleanor, it felt like a pardon. She

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His Broken Luna From The Shadows
His Broken Luna From The Shadows
“For fifteen years, Eleanor Montgomery lived as the beloved young lady of the Montgomery Werewolf Manor, cherished and adored by everyone around her. Yet a sudden truth shattered her entire world-she was not a pure-blooded Montgomery, but merely a common-blooded werewolf. Once the truth came to light, every bit of affection that had once belonged to her was stripped away. Lord and Lady Montgomery poured all their tenderness into their newly returned biological daughter, Iris. Julian, her elder brother who had once doted on her endlessly, pushed her off the stone terrace with his own hands to protect Iris, severing their years of sibling bond without hesitation. Even her fiancé, Duke Alistair Sinclair, the war hero who commanded the werewolf cavalry, chose to stand firmly by Iris's side. For Iris's sake, the people who had once loved her watched silently as she was wrongfully accused and humiliated, not lifting a finger to help. They stripped her of her noble title and reduced her to a lowly servant. For three long years, she endured filthy, grueling toil at the bottom of the manor, abandoned and forgotten by everyone. When the three years finally passed, the Montgomerys who had cast her aside came to her in utter despair, begging through tears, "Eleanor, we were wrong. Come home with us." Proud and arrogant all his life, Julian knelt outside her humble cottage through the freezing night, his voice broken and desperate. "Eleanor, can you forgive me?" Duke Alistair Sinclair walked toward her, covered in fresh, unhealed battle scars, his figure worn from endless wars. His eyes were filled with nothing but regret and longing. "Eleanor... look at me again. Care for me once more. Please." But her heart had died long ago, buried in those endless, hopeless days and crushing disappointments of the past three years. Care for him? Eleanor let out a cold, bitter laugh. Her heart had turned to dust long ago, no warmth left to give. Later, Eleanor met a man who loved her with every fiber of his being. He guarded her fiercely and gave her a peaceful, happy life she had never known. Watching her live in bliss, all those who had hurt and abandoned her could only stand far away, too afraid to approach. Consumed by remorse and cowardice, they feared that in the days to come, they would lose even the right to gaze at her from afar.”