Novels by Noah

Elara's POV It comes to a stop in front of me, and the driver’s door opens. A lanky, brown-haired man gets out, and the corner of his eyes crease when he sees me.“Elara!”Before I can say anything, he bounces past the front of the car and wraps his arms around me.“It’s been weeks!”I laugh, returning the hug. “Two weeks, yes. You look good.”When he pulls back, his sweet, brown eyes make my heart flutter just enough.Andrew Crew is a human male in his early twenties, just a couple years younger than me. Normally, humans are not allowed to know about the existence of wolf shifters, but I saved Andrew’s life several years ago. He had been searching for the exact herbs that are now in my knapsack when he was attacked by a shadow bear. Fortunately, I was nearby and managed to save him, risking my own life in the process.What started off as a hesitant friendship turned into a deep affection.“Two weeks is a long time,” he complains, his arms settling around my waist. “Why don’t you ju

Elara's POVWe dig in at my small coffee table, and for a few minutes, the cottage feels warm and normal. These two women—a healer who could be stripped of her position for associating with me and a warrior whose uncle would disown her if he knew she was here—are the only family I have left.“By the way, I heard something interesting,” Daciana says as we eat. “News came from the palace in the capital today. I overheard my uncle talking about it.”“The royal family contacted us?” I ask curiously. “What could they want with a pack that’s so isolated?”“King Alaric has issued a decree,” Daciana says as she chews a turkey leg. “Each of the eight packs must send one female to serve as a mate to a warrior in another pack. I think the King has been trying to encourage cross-mating ever since the Umbra Council’s divide.”Selene and I exchange a look.The Umbra Council is the highest authority after the royal family. However, in recent years, there has been a divide in the Council based on the

Elara's POVBack in my kitchen, I grind the leaves with a mortar and pestle that belonged to my mother. The stone is worn smooth from years of use, and sometimes I imagine I can still feel the warmth of her hands on it. I add a few drops of water and a pinch of dried moonbell petals, creating a thick, verdant paste that fills the kitchen with a pungent, medicinal scent.My mother’s journal sits on the kitchen counter, its leather binding cracked and its pages yellowed with age. I flip to the section on wound healing, running my finger along her careful handwriting.I’ve read this page a hundred times, but I still check the proportions carefully. Before her death, my mother was the most skilled healer the Silver Stone Pack had ever seen. Her knowledge lives on in this journal, and through countless hours of experimentation, I’ve learned to replicate her remedies.The paste goes on cool and soothing, immediately numbing the worst of my pain. I can feel the herbs providing a protective c

Elara's POV“Not my problem.” Healer Morrigan reaches into a cabinet behind her desk and pulls out a small glass vial filled with a murky brown liquid. She tosses it to me. “Here’s a basic healing tonic. It might help with the pain.”I stare at the vial, recognizing it as the weakest remedy they produce—one usually given for minor scrapes and bruises, not deep claw wounds. My jaw tightens as I lower it to my side, my movements deliberate and controlled.“This won’t be enough for injuries this severe,” I say, my voice neutral despite the anger burning in my chest. “I need—”“You need to get out of my office,” the head healer interrupts with a deceptively kind expression. “Take your half payment and your tonic and leave. I have real patients to attend to.”I stand there for a moment, gripping the pathetic healing tonic and staring at the small pile of coins on her desk. Everything in me wants to storm out empty-handed, to maintain some shred of dignity. But I need those coins, meager as

Elara's POVMultiple healers move between the beds, their green robes marking their status within the pack hierarchy. At the center of it all stands Healer Morrigan’s office, a glass-walled space that allows her to oversee everything and establishes her authority.Leaving small drops of blood on the pristine white floors, I limp toward her door, my basket of hard-won herbs clutched tightly in my arms. Several healers glance my way, but no one offers assistance. They’re too busy with “proper” pack members.Healer Morrigan looks up from her desk as I approach, her plump figure draped in the finest green robes to mark her position. Her warm brown eyes—the kind that crinkle at the corners when she smiles at other pack members—regard me with obvious displeasure. Her graying hair is pulled back in a neat bun. Normally, her round face would be welcoming, but when she looks at me now, all the compassion drains from her expression.“You’re late,” she says, her usually melodious voice turning c

Elara's POVHaving my basket stolen while gathering medicinal herbs in one of the most dangerous parts of the Wyvern Woods is not my idea of a good time.Darn juveniles!Huffing, I chase after the three young wolves, one of whom has my basket in his jaws.“Marcus Darstan!” I shout after the wolf running off with my basket. “You stop right there! You can’t go that far into the woods! The territorial boundaries—”But they’re already hurdling deeper into the trees, their excited yips echoing through the forest.Damn it!“This isn’t a game!” I groan, but they’re gone. I have no choice but to follow.My legs carry me as fast as they can. Twenty minutes later, I’m gasping for breath when I finally catch up to them—or rather, to their aftermath. The boys have disappeared, but my basket lies overturned in a small clearing, its contents scattered everywhere. All the precious herbs I spent three hours picking have been trampled by young feet.I kick at a crushed moonbell petal, frustrated. Look