Novels by ANNA COLLINS

The drums still echoed in my bones long after the ritual ended.I had grown up hearing tales of the Crescent Flame and the Phoenix Rising, of prophecies buried beneath blood and stone, but never once did I think those myths would manifest in my lifetime or that my son would become their centerEzren slept soundly now, curled between worn furs and moonstone charms in the quiet sanctuary we prepared for him. I stood beside him, watching his chest rise and fall, each breath a prayer. I wasn’t ready to lose him not to fate, not to war, not to prophecy.A hand gently touched my shoulder. Rafael. Silent, but always present when I needed him most."You haven’t rested," he said.I shook my head. “Neither has the world.”He didn’t argue. He simply stood beside me, our silence saying more than any words.Outside, the wind carried a different scent woodsmoke and steel. Soldiers from the western packs had begun to arrive. Banners flew high, unfamiliar sigils next to our own. Wolves we hadn’t seen

The moment Elira declared herself, everything in me snapped into focus. She looked like Ophelia, yes but something colder lived behind her eyes. Not pain. Not grief. Strategy. Purpose.Her wolves surrounded us, but they did not attack. Not yet.I moved closer to Ophelia, close enough that our shoulders touched. My fingers grazed the hilt of my sword, but her calm presence steadied me."What exactly do you want, Elira?" I asked, voice low.Her lips curled, the fire behind her casting long shadows over her pale face. "Recognition. Truth. My rightful place. I want the world to remember who I am.""You want a throne that no longer exists," Ophelia replied. "You want to rule ashes."Elira's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Then she raised her chin. "You don't understand what was lost. You were never meant to be the one."The wind picked up, whirling around us like a warning. The tension crackled like kindling waiting to ignite."And you were?" I challenged. "Hiding in shadows whi

The fire crackled behind me as I stood before the Moonstone Council once more. The great hall, now rebuilt with new stones and sacred ash, pulsed with renewed energy. There were no thrones only seats, all equal, all facing each other.Ezren sat beside me, sleepy-eyed but attentive, a parchment in his lap where he doodled stars and wolves with half a mind to magic. Rafael stood just behind, a constant presence my shield and my anchor."We've received word from the Northern Ridge," I began, my voice strong but steady. "A faction of Crescent loyalists has gathered there. They refuse to recognize our peace accords."A murmur rose from the circle. Councilors exchanged glances. Fear. Weariness. A familiar tension.Rafael stepped forward, eyes scanning the room. "We do not seek another war, but we will not allow oppression to fester. If they raise blades, we will defend. But we will try words first."An elder wolfess to my right Councilor Maren nodded slowly. "Let them be given a choice. The

The scent of scorched earth still clung to the air as we stood at the edge of the battlefield. Ophelia’s flames had died down, but her power hadn't. She stood tall beside me, Ezren between us, our hands joined not just in union, but in defiance.From beyond the smoke, the Crescent army advanced. At least a hundred soldiers, their eyes glowing silver, their weapons drawn. Behind them, the Crescent Alpha Leoric emerged. Regal, calculating, and cruel. He was the last of the old regime, the architect of our downfall, and the man who had once tried to destroy everything we built.Ophelia shifted her stance, her crown reigniting. "He’s not just here to threaten us. He’s here to end this."I growled low. "Then let’s end it on our terms."We stepped forward together.Leoric raised his hand, halting his warriors. "So, the queen of fire finally reveals herself. And with a child, no less. A family reunion... how quaint."I bared my teeth. "Choose your next words carefully."He smirked. "You f

The fire still lingered in my eyes, long after we left the Spiral’s threshold. It wasn't just the glow of the Lycan Flame it was Ophelia. She walked ahead, blade on her back, the crown of fire hovering just above her in quiet reverence. She didn’t need armor. She was the storm.I followed her into the veil, where the air shimmered like fractured glass. The Spiral had shifted us. No longer beneath the earth, we stood on the edge of our world and another. The skies churned with storm clouds, and the winds carried the scent of prophecy.Ophelia said nothing. Her silence was not empty; it was heavy, expectant.I had so many questions. About what she saw. About who she had become.But one truth pulsed louder than the rest: she was not the same woman I led into the Spiral. She was more. And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like her protector. I felt like her equal maybe even her follower.She turned to me, and her eyes no longer just violet, but streaked with burning go

1: The Threshold of BecomingThe staircase coiled upward like a serpent made of black crystal. Every step hummed beneath my feet, vibrating with a song I couldn't hear, only feel. It wasn't music it was memory. The Spiral realm wasn't just testing me. It was remembering me. Holding my every joy, my every grief, like a pulse echoing through stone.With every step, the fire within me grew steadier.Rafael followed behind. Silent, alert. His presence was no longer just protection. He was watching me the way one watches the moon rise after a long night with awe, and a hint of fear.The higher we climbed, the brighter the light became. It wasn’t sunlight, not exactly. It was radiant, like soullight the kind of glow that didn’t illuminate objects but truths.We reached the threshold.A great archway loomed ahead, carved with unfamiliar runes, its surface laced with gold veins. It pulsed once, then split open. The chamber beyond was vast like standing at the edge of the universe. Stars