Another Moon: The Darkest Hour
When Elle Rowan aged out of foster care, she thought she’d finally escaped hell. Her first real adult relationship proved her wrong.
Now she’s running from her abusive ex, fleeing across the country to the Pacific Northwest in hopes of disappearing. But within days of arriving, she’s attacked — bitten by a stranger she tried to help. Six months later, the wound still burns. Fevers rage through her. Her senses are sharpening to the point of pain. And the man who bit her won’t leave her alone.
Texts. Notes. Gifts. Threats.
Elle is cracking. She doesn’t know what’s happening to her. She only knows she’s becoming something she doesn’t recognize… and she’s always on edge.
Across the country, Gabriel Duval hears her call.
A Cajun tracker from the Louisiana bayou, Gabriel left everything behind the moment the mate bond awakened. For six months he’s followed an instinct he doesn’t understand, chasing a woman he’s never met — a woman whose desperation is awakening the Alpha buried inside him.
In a world where fated bonds are rare and bites kill more often than they create, two broken souls are being pulled together by a force stronger than either of them. Some scars run soul-deep, and some predators don’t let go easily.
In the darkest hour, survival isn’t enough.
Sometimes you have to become the monster… to become the sanctuary.
A dark werewolf thriller about desperation, redemption, and the terrifying strength found in choosing to trust again.
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Chapter: Chapter 5: Something Old, Something FeralThe narrow hallway smelled faintly of bleach and old cigarette smoke that had soaked into the walls decades ago. The fluorescent tube here flickered worse than the main room—one bulb half-dead, a relentless hum that ticked and clinked and plinked, counting down the seconds to a coming epic failure. The EXIT sign at the far end was a dull red, throwing a bloody glow down to the scuffed linoleum. The smell of grease blended with the sour note of mildew creeping up from somewhere unseen. Every few steps the floor creaked underfoot, protesting the weight even of someone as light as Elle.She pushed through the restroom door with her shoulder, avoiding the handle. The assault on her nose from the public restroom was bad enough. She didn’t need to add touching anything to it. The hinges squealed. Inside, the space was unforgiving, tiled in institutional mint-green, one sink, one stall, one mirror, all within one step of each other. The door clicked shut behind her. The light overhead flicke
Last Updated: 2026-08-12
Chapter: Chapter 4: Threshold - August, Olympia, WashingtonElle finished the rest of the rooms as fast as she could. The fog that started with the morning hung around unseasonably all day, casting gloom over everything. By the time she finished, dark was coming in early. Cart locked in the supply closet, smock shoved under the bottom shelf, hoodie up before she’d cleared the breezeway. The Rainier Motel shrank behind her in the fog—the caws of the crows, the stink of stale cigs, the ghost of teeth still burning in her ankle. Every slap of her torn sneakers on the damp pavement said move. Maybe it was time to move on. Find another place. Don’t be where “he” can find you.By the time she hit the North Star’s lot, the holes made her sneakers damp and her hands would not stop shaking. Not from the cold alone, August shouldn’t feel like this, all fog and wet bones. It was the chill from the flashback that still had its hooks in her. The feral smile. The claim of ownership. The wet crunch of asphalt on bone. She wanted the corner booth. Nancy’s ste
Last Updated: 2026-08-09
Chapter: Chapter 3: Room 104 – August, Olympia, WashingtonTwo months. A sarcastic chuckle rumbled from her throat unexpectedly.That’s how long she’d called this fleabag motel “home.” Her laugh turned quietly bitter. The most she’d seen of Olympia was the hard road that brought her here, the North Star truck stop, and this sad, sad motel. Everything else was just a green and gray blur at the edge.Elle Rowan peeked up from behind the cleaning cart, eyes darting right, then left, then back the way she’d come before stopping at Room 104. The cart let out a horrible screech as it halted, announcing her presence to every possible denizen in the vicinity. Elle winced. She’d have to get it fixed by tomorrow. The sound grated on her last nerve, making her feel self-conscious. Visible. She didn’t like feeling seen.Fucking cart.Thankfully, the Rainier Motel seemed deserted this morning. The ever-present damp darkened the concrete, scenting the early day with cedar, pine, and rain-soaked earth. Even in August, the sky hung low and gray, chasing most
Last Updated: 2026-06-22
Chapter: Chapter 2: Mate Bonds & Dead Things"It's getting stronger," Gabriel admitted, his voice dropping so low it barely carried over the bubbling. "The closer I get, the more it feels like a fire in my veins and the devil himself lit the fuse."Elias slowed, cocked his head to the side. “Hang on. I got just the thing.” He hopped off the faint trail toward a cluster of low shrubs. Crouching, he stripped some wild mint, scraped bark from a nearby willow shrub, and gathered a handful of sagebrush, crushing them together in a dented tin cup that hung from his pants. He inhaled their scent before adding half the mixture to a small leather pouch at his belt."Here," Elias said a moment later, handing Gabriel a handful of the crushed leaves mixed with a pinch of something earthy and sharp-smelling. "Chew it slow. Fair warnin’, it’s gonna taste nasty — bitter as sin. It won’t dull the Bond, but it’ll ease the heat some. Give your head a chance to catch up to what your body’s tryin’ to do."Gabriel took the herbs, shoved them into hi
Last Updated: 2026-06-18
Chapter: Chapter 1: The Unwanted Road - May, Yellowstone, Wyoming"Fuck." The itch hit with the force of a freight train. It pulsed under his skin. Grew sharper, louder, more painful. A constant hum that vibrated through his bones. It wasn’t just the change in altitude or the dry, pine-heavy air of Yellowstone that made his muscles coil. It was the Bond — a relentless magnetic force dragging him northwest from his familiar Bayous. The mossy humidity and organic decay of the Rochambeau Pack lands. Someone he couldn’t name, someone that felt like both salvation and ruin.He leaned against the battered tailgate of his truck, trying to catch his breath, calm his need. Steam curled lazily from a nearby thermal vent. The sulfur smell clashed with the pines, foreign smells he was still getting used to. Not his. Not home. Not pack. They made his nose wrinkle.His hands, usually rock-steady from years of tracking through Louisiana swamps, had begun to tremble in the early morning cold. Turning, he gripped the edge of the truck bed hard, using the cold steel
Last Updated: 2026-06-18
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