Novels by NaAlexs

The world was quiet in the high mountain clearing, quiet in the way snow absorbs sound and turns the air into something still and heavy. The moon hung low, a pale mirror against the dense black sky. Pine branches bowed under the weight of frost.
Alex stood beside Aeron as wind tugged strands of dark hair across her face. Her heartbeat was steady, not racing, not trembling. She was not afraid.
Not anymore.
Footsteps approached.
Slow. Deliberate. Familiar.
Aeron didn’t move, but his presence shifted—like the mountain itself acknowledging an arrival. The Night Fang warriors stepped back into the tree line, leaving the clearing open.
A figure emerged from the dark.
Tall.
Wearing a dark cloak lined with fur.
Snow-damp curls of deep chestnut hair.
And eyes—
Her eyes.
Not the exact shade.
His were warmer, gold-gold instead of gold-black.
But they were the eyes of memory.
Eyes she had seen once in a cradle.
Eyes she had seen in dreams that made her wake choking on grief she couldn’t name.
Mar

Snow fell in slow, deliberate flakes, each settling silently on the evergreen branches lining the southern border. The air held a stillness so complete it felt like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Alex stood on level ground just beyond the ridge, the frozen wind whispering through her hair. She didn’t hunch against the cold. She didn’t pace. She didn’t shift.
She simply waited.
The Night Fang warriors were positioned behind her—silent, watchful, present. They did not crowd her. They did not shield her.
She didn’t need shielding.
Aeron stood to her right, hands loose at his sides. Not in front of her. Not behind her. Beside her.
Then—snow crunched.
Wolves emerged through the trees.
Six first. Then eight. Then more. They spread in a cautious arc. Trying to form their familiar crescent.
Alex didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t give them anything to track.
Silver Moon wolves hesitated.
They expected fear.
Panic.
Retreat.
They found stillness instead.
And stillness was harder to re

Snow whispered beneath Alex’s boots as she crossed the open stretch between the training grounds and the Night Fang keep. The moon was high—silver, round, and bright enough to cast shadows as sharp as blades. Her breath fogged in the frigid night air, but inside her chest, she felt no cold.
Her wolf moved beneath her skin—steady, awake, alert.
Not afraid.
Aeron walked beside her, every step measured, quiet, a mountain shaped into a man.
“Something’s wrong,” Alex murmured, voice low.
Aeron didn’t ask how she knew.
He didn’t have to.
He felt the energy too—the subtle shift in the air, like the forest itself had paused to listen.
A guard wolf approached, shifting mid-stride, breath breaking in fast clouds of steam.
“Alpha Aeron. Alex.” He bowed quickly. “We picked up multiple scent trails at the southern border. Wolves. They’re spreading formation. Searching.”
The words punched the frost-thick air.
Alex didn’t ask who.
She already knew.
Silver Moon had come.
Her heartbeat didn’t quicken.

The wind howled over the Silver Moon Pack House, rattling the high windows of the Alpha floor. The scent of winter had grown sharp and biting overnight — a hunter’s cold. Snow drifted in slow spirals outside the glass, peaceful at first glance.
Inside, there was no peace.
Rex stood in the center of the Alpha’s office, fists clenched tight enough his knuckles blanched white. His golden-brown hair hung disheveled across his forehead, chest still rising hard from the morning’s run. Lila Silver stood near the window, arms crossed, lips drawn tight. Alpha Cole paced — steps clipped, controlled rage simmering beneath his skin.
“She’s gone,” Cole growled, voice like gravel dragged across metal.
Gone.
The word seemed to hang in the room, suspended and heavy.
Jayson stood near the door, jaw tight, eyes dark, as though he couldn’t quite understand how something so small had slipped past them.
“Search patterns covered the entire eastern border,” Jayson reported. “No tracks leading past the river

The training grounds of Night Fang sat in a valley of shadowed pines, cold air misting like breath from the earth. Snow lay packed and firm underfoot, shaped by years of footsteps, sparring, and sweat. Warriors moved through drills in steady, synchronized rhythm. No one slacked. No one postured. They trained to be better, not to prove themselves.
Alex stood at the edge of the grounds, pulse quick, hands lightly shaking.
Not from fear.
From anticipation.
Aeron stood beside her, tall, composed, his presence grounding without pressing. He didn’t look at her to reassure her. He simply stood with her. As though that alone was enough.
“Before strength,” he said softly, “comes presence.”
Alex swallowed. “Presence?”
“Yes.” Aeron turned to face her fully, his voice gentle but firm. “Your entire life, standing small kept you alive. So you survived by shrinking. By folding. By trying not to be seen.”
Her chest tightened.
He wasn’t wrong.
“But you were never meant to be small, Alex.”
The ground m

Night fell gently over the Night Fang estate. The snow outside reflected the moonlight so brightly that the room seemed washed in silver. Alex sat curled beside the fire, wrapped in Aeron’s cloak. The warmth didn’t feel borrowed anymore.
Aeron entered the room quietly, carrying a small, lacquered box carved with the symbol of a crescent moon wrapped in a wolf’s tail.
Alex sat up, heart thudding.
“What’s that?”
Aeron sat beside her — not too close — and placed the box between them.
“It belonged to your mother.”
Alex froze.
Her breath caught in her lungs. Her wolf pressed closer, alert, waiting.
Aeron opened the box carefully, as if the memories inside could shatter.
Inside lay:
A blood-red ribbon, frayed at one end
A pendant shaped like a full moon, cracked down the center
And a small, rolled piece of parchment tied with silver thread
Alex reached out with trembling fingers and brushed the ribbon.
It was soft. Warm. Loved.
“My mother…” her voice faltered. “What was she like?”
Aeron’s e