Novels by Chidimma Ndukwe

MAYA.Kaia didn’t speak much as we walked, but I didn’t mind. The forest grew denser the deeper we went, trees leaning inward like they, too, were watching. The GPS on my phone had long stopped updating, and the mist thickened as if we were leaving one world and stepping into another.Eventually, the trail opened into a vast clearing bathed in the silver wash of moonlight. My breath caught.Nestled against the shadow of the mountain was a sprawling campus. The buildings weren’t what I expected — not modern or clinical, but ancient and breathtaking. Gothic spires pierced the sky, covered in creeping ivy. Stone walls shimmered faintly with something more than age. Magic, maybe. You could feel it in your skin, humming beneath your bones.“Welcome to Moonridge Academy,” Kaia said, her tone reverent.I followed her past the front gates, where a tall iron arch stood, engraved with a moon crest I recognized from the pendant. Something inside me pulsed.The main building towered above us, but

LUCIEN.The vision struck like lightning —white-hot and blinding.One moment, I stood alone in the War Room, the candlelight flickering like whispers of flame. The next, I was elsewhere—a forest thick with shadows and moonlight. Fire crackled in the underbrush. A wolf, massive and spectral, circled something—No. Someone. She stood in the clearing, clutching a strange pendant at her chest, eyes wide with recognition—and terror. The wolf’s eyes glowed gold and seemed awfully familiar.I couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop what came next.The wolf lunged.The vision shattered, dragging my breath with it. I gripped the edge of the war table, knuckles bone-white, chest heaving. Runes flared beneath my fingers—bright, angry, ancient.“She’s waking up,” I muttered.“She is, isn’t she?”The voice was soft, but carried the weight of years of history forged in blood and heartbreak.I turned slowly. My mother stood in the doorway, her presence regal, sharp as the sword she used to carry.“You saw it

LUCIENIt was already dusk. Evenings at the pack’s den always felt like the world was holding its breath.The sky bled silver behind jagged clouds. And the air… the air was always thick with something ancient—older than spells or teeth. I stood alone on the west balcony off North, watching dusk settle like ash over the mountains. From here you could see everything; the wolves having fun in sand, the warriors training. I let my hand rest on the cool stone railing.I heard footsteps. Someone was approaching. Familiar tread. Steady but respectful.“Alpha Lucien, you have a letter from the Moonridge council.”It was one of our guards. We had gotten the annual letter from the Moonridge council. Moonridge Academy; a school for the gifted, it was a school for werewolves, vampires, fairies and other mythical creatures who were accepted annually. They also accept humans as well; only one human per session.The letter read; THE MOONRIDGE ACADEMY COUNCIL LETTER TO THE SILVER CLAW PACK.

MAYAThe email still sat open on my phone, but I hadn’t looked at it in hours.I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the pendant resting in the centre of my palm like a coin waiting to be flipped. On one side I had my Aunt and uncle telling me to stay, while on the other it seemed like everything I had longed.Every sound in the house felt louder tonight. The creak of floorboards, the tick of the hallway clock, the wind tapping against my window like it was trying to say something. And maybe it was. Maybe everything was. The dream. The pendant. Aunt Emilia’s silence.Aunt Emilia’s warning echoed again in my mind: Promise me you won’t go…But I hadn’t promised. And I couldn’t—not when everything inside me was pointing toward that school, that invitation, and the suspicious behaviours of my aunt made me more curious.I didn’t know what I’d find. I didn’t know if I’d come back the same.But maybe that was the point.I slipped the pendant over my head and let it settle against my chest

MAYA.Morning light poured through the window, soft and golden, warming the edge of my blanket, but I felt no warmth.I hadn’t slept again after I woke up.The pendant still sat on my nightstand —silent, still, like it hadn’t just lit up a forest in my dreams and burned its shape into my memory. But I couldn’t stop looking at it, it was strangely captivating. Even now, I could feel it humming faintly beneath the surface, like it was waiting for something.I pulled my sketchpad into my lap; barely aware I was doing it. My pencil moved before I could think. I didn’t need to imagine —the images were already carved behind my eyelids, like scars.The stone.The pendant.The figure in the woods, robes like smoke underwater.The silver crescent, glowing brighter than anything else.I didn’t sketch like this usually, this was new to me. My lines were sharper. Bolder. The shadows felt deeper too — like they weren’t just there to suggest form, but to warn me of something.When I finished the

MAYA.When I woke up later today, the sun had already sunk behind the houses across the street, a clear sign that evening had arrived.The sound of the front door creaking open snapped me out of my thoughts. Aunt Emilia’s familiar footsteps echoed through the hallway, and not long after, I heard the heavier tread of Uncle Eric behind her. I glanced at the clock. 7:42 PM. She must’ve left work earlier than expected.I quickly minimized the webpage about Moonridge Academy on my laptop and swung my legs off the bed. My heart had been racing ever since I clicked “submit.” I’d rehearsed this conversation at least a dozen times in my head, but now that the moment was here, all the words seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind.Dinner was simple—spaghetti and meatballs. We gathered at the dining table, the TV playing softly in the background while we silently dug into our food. The air felt unusually thick, or maybe it was just the weight of what I was about to say. I cleared my throat. “