Novels by Michael Grey

LUCIANThe shout from the warriors turns out to be nothing dangerous, just more incoming envoys arriving earlier than expected, but it snaps the moment in half. Leah squeezes my hand once before we split up to handle things, and the night turns into a blur of organizing, answering questions, and guiding the visiting guards to their quarters.By morning, Bloodmoon territory looks like a small city. Flags flutter from every direction. Fae magic drifts like tiny sparks between the trees. Elven lanterns hang from branches that normally look too plain. Dragon warriors stand in the open yard, checking weapons half the pack pretends not to stare at.The summit is hours away. The wedding… somehow even closer. Everyone keeps whispering about it. Not with fear. With excitement. Relief. Like the whole world finally has something good to hold onto.I stand on the packhouse balcony, watching everything grow louder and brighter around us. Leah is below, helping elves settle their tents. She tucks h

LEAHElara’s silhouette gets smaller and smaller as she walks past the last border stone. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, keeps moving, and doesn’t turn around once. The whole pack watches in a heavy silence that feels like a held breath.When she finally disappears into the trees, Lucian’s fingers link with mine and I keep my chin up even though my chest aches with a weird mix of relief and sadness. Losing someone still hurts, even when the decision is right.A wind blows through the clearing, carrying the smell of pine and morning frost. Then one warrior bows. Another follows. Then more. Lucian leans close and murmurs, “We’re okay.”I squeeze his hand once. “Yeah. We are.”But the day isn’t giving us time to breathe.By noon, every alarm bell in the packhouse rings. High-ranking visitors are coming in, multiple sets of them. I barely change my shirt before the sky fills with movement.First come the fae envoys, stepping out of shimmering portals like they’re walking t

LUCIANI walk until the noise in my head stops drowning out everything else.The forest is silent at this hour, no warriors training, or pack members whispering behind walls. No one expecting me to lead or choose or punish. Just trees, wet ground, and my own breathing. I lean against the side of an old pine and drag my hands through my hair, trying to steady the mess inside me.I keep replaying it, Elara, the shock in Leah’s face, the anger in mine. And that stupid kiss. The one I didn’t ask for. The one Leah had walked in on two years ago.I slam my fist into the trunk behind me. The bark cracks and falls.I kicked Elara out since then. She should never have been able to step foot on Bloodmoon land again. So how the hell did she get back in? How long was she helping Zevara? How much damage did she do while pretending to be loyal?How much of this is my fault?“Breaking trees won’t fix your brain, you know.”I exhale through my teeth. “Theron.”He steps out from behind another tree, l

LEAHI don’t even think before I run. The second Lucian sends that call through the pack link, my heart jumps so hard it knocks the air straight out of my chest. His anger slams into me like a wave, sharp and loud and way too familiar. It’s the kind of anger that ends things. The kind that doesn’t let anyone breathe until it’s done.I sprint down the hall, almost skidding when I turn the corner. I don’t even need to ask what’s happening, I can feel it burning through our bond. Lucian’s fury is climbing, choking him. Or maybe he’s letting it.The guards are already dragging someone out of the southern wing. She’s kicking, crying, mumbling something about being sorry. It’s his ex-mate, Elara. I can tell from the last time I saw them kissing. Well, that she kissed him and I didn’t wait I to see him push her away.I stop at the doorway and see Lucian standing there, chest moving too fast, jaw locked so hard it looks painful. His eyes are darker than usual and he’s not even trying to hide

LUCIANThe celebration is like a storm. We barely get past the gates before they grab us. Wolves pound their chests. Kids run around our legs. Old warriors who haven’t smiled in years laugh like they’re drunk. Everybody wants to see the babies, to touch them, to breathe them in like luck.They keep chanting Leah’s name. Mine too, but she’s the one they look at like she pulled the moon out of the sky. And honestly, I get it. She’s holding our children, she saved them. We end up at the center of the courtyard, huge bonfires lit, tables stacked with food. Plates of meat, barrels of sweet wine, bread torn apart by hands that haven’t stopped shaking. Everyone here is riding the high of us not coming back in pieces.I’m smiling when they expect me to. Nodding, hugging, letting people slap my shoulders hard enough to bruise. But there’s something stuck in my head, and it won’t let go. Caelum’s face. It wasn’t fear, or anger. It was… recognition. Like he was seeing some part of me I didn’t k

LEAHCaelum is still choking in Theron’s jaws when I press my palm against Zevara’s chest. She claws at me, nails raking my arms, screaming my name like it’s a threat, not a plea. But I don’t stop. Not this time. I don’t pull power from her. I pull it out of her.Her illusion magic rushes into my hand like hot air being sucked through a tiny hole. It burns, making my arm shake. My fingers go numb. But I keep going, because I can still hear my son crying behind me, and I refuse to let her breathe in a world where he suffers.Zevara screams, a raw, eerie sound. Her eyes go wide, and I see fear, real fear. “No… no… stop…” she begs.I don’t.Light tears out of her chest in a streak and gathers in my palm. It looks like smoke and shattered glass. The moment the last drop leaves her body, she drops like someone cut her strings. Caelum hits the ground too. Theron releases him, panting heavily, blood on his teeth, eyes blazing. But Caelum doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look alive. Without Zev