Novels by S.D Rae

For nearly a year, Lilith Duskbane had languished in Stormfang’s dungeon.The stone had been cold, damp, and merciless. Rats skittered through the shadows, and her breath clouded against the iron bars when winter crept into the mountain keep. Silver cuffs bit into her wrists until the skin blistered, raw and red. Her lips cracked. Her body thinned.But her pride never bent.She was a Duskbane—noble-born, moon-blessed, heir to a bloodline that had outlasted kings. Chains could bruise her flesh, but they could not tarnish her name.And her family had not forgotten her.Every moon cycle, an emissary arrived— uncles, brothers, cousins cloaked in furs, their voices echoing through Stormfang’s council chamber. They brought petitions stamped with Duskbane seals, each written in fine calligraphy, each dripping with fury and entitlement.“It is beneath us,” one thundered, his fist striking the table. “To chain a daughter of the Duskbane line like a common criminal.”“She has paid enough,” ano

Stormfang had never known silence like this.The packhouse stood heavy beneath a slate-gray sky, the wind sweeping through its stone corridors like a living thing. Wolves shifted uneasily in the courtyards, their ears flicking, their gazes sliding toward the borders. The air itself seemed restless, carrying the bite of winter even though snow had not yet fallen.At the heart of it all, their Alpha paced like a caged beast.Lucian Blackthorn stood on the balcony of his chamber, his tall frame rigid, his hands braced against the stone rail as he stared into the forest beyond. His raven hair hung loose around his face, damp with sweat despite the cold. His silver eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, gleamed now with something wilder, more dangerous—an edge that made even seasoned warriors hesitate to meet his gaze.Below, the wolves kept their distance. They heard him at night. They saw what the absence of one human girl had done.The Alpha was unraveling.It had begun the night Bella fle

The journey was a blur of cold roads and restless miles.Two days after stumbling into the little town, Bella pressed onward, carrying nothing but the clothes on her back and the ache in her chest. She bartered what little jewelry she had left—a simple locket her mother once gave her—for a seat in a wagon headed east. The ride was long, the air sharp with winter, and each jolt of the wheels sent pain lancing through her blistered feet.But she didn’t complain. She couldn’t risk speaking much.When the driver, a kindly man with thick hands and tired eyes, asked her name, she hesitated a fraction too long before murmuring, “Isla.” It wasn’t her true name, but the syllables rolled easily enough from her tongue. A name without history. A name without Stormfang.The countryside shifted slowly as the miles passed. Forest gave way to open plains, dotted with farms where smoke rose from distant chimneys. By the time the wagon neared the outskirts of a human city, the sun was setting, painting

The forest swallowed her whole.Bella ran until her lungs burned, until each breath was a ragged cry she dared not let out, until her torn gown clung heavy with dirt and blood. Branches whipped against her skin, leaving scratches across her arms and shoulders, and still she pushed on, her bare feet pounding the frozen earth. Each step sent fire through the torn flesh of her soles, but she did not stop. She could not.Behind her, the howls had echoed through the trees.Lucian’s howl.It was not the sound of command nor of triumph, but a raw, desperate cry that had rattled her bones even as she forced herself further into the darkness. Her chest had ached at the sound, her heart stumbling as if to answer, but she bit down hard on her lip until she tasted blood and kept running.He would not have her. Not anymore.The moon hung low above the treetops, its pale glow glimmering faintly on the frost-tipped leaves. Shadows stretched long across her path, wolves’ shapes in her mind even when

The night swallowed her whole.The forest loomed black and endless, its branches clawing at the sky, its roots clawing at her feet. Bella stumbled forward, her gown torn at the hem, streaked with dirt and blood. The cold bit into her skin, sharp as teeth, but she did not stop. Could not.Her lungs burned with every ragged breath. Her chest heaved, her throat raw from the sobs she had tried to smother. Her bare feet struck earth and stone, skin splitting, blood slicking the leaves. Still, she ran.The packhouse was far behind her now, its towering walls shrinking into memory. But the image burned hotter, crueler than any chase: Lilith’s robe slipping from her shoulder, Lucian’s bare chest, their closeness.The sight she could not unsee.Her gray-green eyes blurred with tears as she pressed a trembling hand against her chest. The bond seared there, cruel and mocking. She had once thought it might save her, tether her to something stronger than herself. Instead, it chained her to agony.

The dungeon smelled of rust and blood.Torchlight flickered against damp stone, throwing jagged shadows across the walls. Chains rattled with every movement, echoing like whispers in the stale air.Lilith sat bound in the center of the cell, iron links coiled around her wrists and ankles. Her crimson robe had slipped from one shoulder, the bruises at her throat vivid against pale skin where Lucian’s hand had gripped her. Yet her icy blue eyes gleamed with triumph.Lucian stood before her, tall and immovable, his silver gaze blazing with a fury that lit the chamber brighter than any flame. His coat hung open, the scars on his chest catching the torchlight, his fists curled tight at his sides.“Speak,” he commanded, his voice a snarl. “What did you hope to gain?”Lilith tilted her head, her lips curving into a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious, Lucian?”His wolf surged inside him, claws raking, demanding blood. Tear her apart. She hurt what is ours.Lucian leaned clos