Beneath the Silver Moon
High school is hard. Being an outcast omega werewolf? Even harder.
Evelyn “Evie” Hart has spent her life on the outskirts—first of her pack, now in a new town—hiding the secret she can’t seem to unlock: her wolf. But Silver Ridge High isn’t your typical high school, and neither is the nearby forest that seems to pull at her every step.
Then there’s Caleb Blackwood—the brooding, magnetic future alpha of the Silver Moon pack. Their connection is instant, undeniable, and complicated. While the mate bond tugs at them, Caleb’s walls and the pack’s politics make getting close impossible… especially with Lydia, a scheming prospective Luna, determined to make Evie fail.
Caught between desire, danger, and a destiny she doesn’t fully understand, Evie must navigate pack hierarchy, high school drama, and the thrilling but unpredictable awakening of her powers.
In a world where loyalty is tested, love is forbidden, and wolves are far more than just legends, Evie will discover that true strength comes from embracing who she is—even if it means defying the pack, her mate, and everything she thought she knew about herself.
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Chapter: Pull of the MoonThere’s this sharp, electric feeling in the woods at twilight. Honestly, it just flips reality on its head. The world I know—the safe, everyday stuff—slips away, and what’s left buzzes with danger and magic so thick you can almost taste it. Even the trees feel like they’re holding their breath, caught in this heavy silence, waiting for someone—no, something—to finally break the spell.And, judging by the wild, painful pressure squeezing my chest, that “someone” is definitely me. Lucky me.Tonight, my usual anchors are useless. Schoolwork? Forget it. My math homework looks like someone spilled ink on it. I can’t focus. Dinner? Might as well be cardboard. There’s a hunger inside me that has nothing to do with food. Even Maya’s endless chatter—normally a lifeline, with her weird art projects and crazier school board conspiracy theories—just bounces right off my wall of nerves.My wolf isn’t just restless tonight. She’s pure chaos, pacing under my skin, whining and desperate, clawing for
最終更新日: 2025-11-27
Chapter: Crossing LinesI've developed a, well-tested theory about small towns. They are fundamentally not small at all. They possess an intense, magnifying complexity, operating less like normal cities and more like intricate, self-contained snow globes.From the outside, the entire scene looks meticulously picturesque, perfectly arranged, and benignly charming. But the second you actively choose to shake it, the second an outside element, like me, enters the carefully controlled environment, the entire world erupts into a violent, chaotic storm. Suddenly, the swirling glitter catches the light, and everyone sees exactly what you are hiding.Right now, standing on the edge of social obscurity, I feel undeniably like I am the central, inconvenient, attention-grabbing glitter storm in someone else's tiny, painstakingly curated, perfect little world.Today's torture is gym class. Naturally.Because what conceivable setting could offer a more effective, comprehensive venue for a loud, public humiliation in fron
最終更新日: 2025-11-14
Chapter: Shifting FrustrationsThe essential, unavoidable truth about small towns is that they possess this unsettling, almost supernatural ability to amplify every single minor problem until it stretches, and festers into something that feels like the immediate, terminal end of the known world. The pressure is constant, the scrutiny inescapable.And today, this specific, draining Tuesday, feels like the ultimate, catastrophic peak of that unsettling phenomenon. It is a day drenched in anticipatory dread and the raw exposure of being the unwanted new factor in a carefully balanced equation.The tension is initially rooted, of course, in the endless, brightly lit torment of school. The hallways are permanently buzzing with the low, virulent hum of circulating gossip, a constant, low-grade white noise of judgment and exclusion.The teachers are merely uniformed extensions of this local toxicity, possessing expressions that clearly imply a deep, personal, and profoundly unfair vendetta against any new student who dar
最終更新日: 2025-11-14
Chapter: Pack ShadowsSilver Ridge High, I quickly realized, possessed an almost magical, deeply irritating ability to transform the utterly ordinary routine of mandatory education into a draining, high-stakes battlefield.The hallways were perpetually jammed, a surging tide of hormonal teenagers, each small, distinct group marking their designated social territory with the fierce, protective instinct of wild animals defending their established turf.The air was thick with competitive energy, silent challenges, and the aggressive posturing of adolescent hierarchy. And somewhere, trapped and completely exposed within this noisy, overwhelming chaos, I was mandated to somehow successfully blend in.Good luck with that, I thought grimly, pulling my shoulders back and pushing through a cluster of oblivious jocks. Blending in was about as likely as me suddenly sprouting functional wings.My first period was the agonizingly dull crucible of history. The classroom was dim, the air stale, and Mr. Gallagher was curr
最終更新日: 2025-11-14
Chapter: The Woods BeckonThere is a deceptive quality about small towns.They market themselves with glossy postcards and romanticized notions of quaintness, suggesting nothing but cozy streets, sun-dappled squares, and genuinely friendly, overly helpful neighbors. But you soon learn the truth.Silver Ridge has a distinct flavor.It's not the sugary-sweetness of a tourist destination; it's more akin to a square of exceptionally dark chocolate, the expensive, high-quality kind that carries an underlying, deep current of bitterness, the taste that sneaks up on the back of your throat long after the initial bite. And right now, in the late afternoon sun filtering across the pavement, that complex, unsettling flavor smells undeniably like trouble.The kind of trouble that promises to rearrange your life in ways you didn't consent to.All through the final, excruciatingly slow class period which was a boring lecture on the historical significance of the quadratic equation, naturally and through the noisy, chaotic
最終更新日: 2025-11-14
Chapter: First ImpressionsThe unofficial, unwritten first rule of surviving a new school, as outlined in Evie's personal and cynical handbook, is to project an air of unassailable confidence, to literally walk in like you own the place. But, by my meticulously calculated internal metrics, this feat is an absolute, staggering impossibility when your arms are straining under the weight of three different composition notebooks, a backpack that contains enough textbooks and supplies to easily outweigh a small farm animal, and an emergency travel coffee mug that is, tragically, already half-drained and rapidly cooling.I was operating at a critical caffeine deficit and simultaneously looked like a sherpa attempting to navigate a social avalanche.The sheer volume of hallway traffic was worse, more overwhelming, and more aggressively swift than my imagination had prepared me for. Students did not simply mill about; they swarmed with the single-minded, frantic intensity of ants who have just collectively discovered a
最終更新日: 2025-11-14
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