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“Serene! Why won’t you help your own blood?!”
My roar split the night in two, tearing from my throat like something feral and wounded. The sound echoed across the clearing, flung back at me by the indifferent sky. I glared up at the swollen moon until my vision swam, my fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. “I shouldn’t have to suffer for a curse you let happen! I shouldn’t be the one punished for *your* mistakes!” The heavens remained silent… but silence was its own confession. Because deep in the marrow of my bones—deeper than blood, deeper than rage—I knew the truth. The Moon Goddess, the serene, sacred deity adored by wolves across every realm… was my lineage. My great, great, great grandmother. My legacy. My burden. And thanks to her and Heka’s twisted interference, I was living a nightmare no wolf, no man, no creature with a beating heart should ever have to endure: **sharing my destined mate with my own brother.** A curse carved into our bloodline long before my first breath “Dominic…” The voice drifted behind me like a soft breeze—melodic, gentle, and so wrong it scraped down my spine. I spun, breath stopping in my chest. There she was. Serene. The Moon Goddess. My ancestor. Pale, luminous, ethereal—like the moon had peeled itself from the sky and shaped itself into a woman just to torment me. Light shimmered around her like a halo, but the glow only made the anger boiling inside me burn hotter. “I can’t…” My voice cracked. The words tangled. “I can’t do this anymore.” She opened her mouth, but the dam inside me burst before she could utter a single divine syllable. “I’m losing my damn mind, Serene.” My chest heaved as the confession ripped free. “Alaric and Liza keep insisting we can ‘figure it out,’ that we can make this fucked-up fate work, but I don’t want to share my mate! I won’t! Elizabeth doesn’t even look at me—doesn’t *see* me. She’s still caught up in Alaric like she doesn’t have a choice, like I don’t even exist beside him.” My voice shook, my vision blurring. “She tried to kill his son just to win him back. That’s how far this curse is twisting everything.” Hot tears streaked down my face—anger, heartbreak, humiliation all tangled together. My knees buckled and I hit the earth hard, the weight of destiny dragging me down until I could barely breathe. If this was all the Goddess planned for me… If this was the life carved in stars and blood… Why keep fighting at all? Serene stepped closer, moonlight pooling around her feet. Her expression softened, but not enough to soothe the storm inside me. “Fret not, my child,” she whispered, her voice like fog rolling over grave soil—soft, cold, impossible to grasp. “I heard your cry. But I cannot grant what you seek.” A hollow, bitter laugh ripped from my throat. “Oh, that is just fan-fuckin’-tastic, isn’t it? You show up just to tell me you can’t do a damn thing?” Her glow dimmed, shadows pooling under her eyes. “Only the witch who cast the curse can unbind it. Her bloodline alone holds that power. Seek the lineage of Rosalynn. They possess the key to what you desire.” Rosalynn. The name struck me like a fist to the sternum. Familiar. Uncomfortable. Coiled somewhere deep in memory. My mind scrambled, clawing through what I knew—what I’d ignored. And then it clicked. Liza. And her mother… Morgana. The realization detonated in my chest. They weren’t just involved. They were the *only* ones who could save me. My last chance. My final hope. My path forward—dangerous, twisted, and inevitable. And if Rosalynn’s bloodline was my salvation… Then I was already in deeper than I ever imagined.hey guys I am sorry I haven't posted my oldest child's dad was shot and killed and we have been trying to help my son process it the best we can, plus help his mom get the funeral set up and granted permission to leave hospice to be able to attend it's and it's putting a strain on my current relationship because I am having to do all this work for an ex but all that work isn't for my ex but my child not my fault the man didn't have a woman after I left him and they have no other family to help her plan it and get her out of hospice ok rant over sorry but I will get back to posting Monday March 16th with 2 chapters for all 3 of my books I have open
The HuntThe forest closed around them like a living thing.Not merely dense or dark, but aware—as if the ancient trees recognized the violence moving through their roots and chose to watch rather than interfere. Branches scraped together overhead with a sound too deliberate to be coincidence. Leaves shuddered without wind. The ground itself felt tense beneath their feet, humming faintly with the residue of power that had torn through it moments earlier.Danger lingered everywhere.But Samantha Black did not feel fear.She felt fire.It burned beneath her skin, threaded through her veins, coiled tight around her spine. Every breath she drew tasted like ozone and grief and rage. Her witch was no longer stirring—it was fully awake, eyes open, claws bared, prowling at the front of her mind.Dominic walked beside her, his hand locked over hers in a grip that was equal parts anchor and weapon. His palm was rough and warm, steady despite the violence rippling through him. The bond between t
(Samantha & Dominic-The Hunt)The forest pressed around us, dark and oppressive, as if it could hear us moving and had decided to watch. Every branch scratching against another, every leaf trembling under some unseen wind, whispered danger. But I didn’t feel fear. I felt fire.Dominic’s hand clamped over mine, strong, warm, anchoring me even as the psychic threads burned my mind. Ava’s gold signature pulsed faintly through the psychic ether, a fragile trail but unmistakable to my witch. My pulse synced to it, every beat a drum counting down the distance between us and my daughter.“She’s close,” I murmured, teeth clenched. “I can feel her heartbeat under mine. Her fear… it’s layering over Elder Lee’s control.”Dominic’s jaw tightened. “I feel it too. We’re not walking into a room—we’re walking into a trap. But we’ll break it. I promise you, Sam.”The bond between us throbbed with twin fury, twin need, twin unshakable determination. Every pulse of her signature was amplified throu
(Ava’s POV-The Lie)The room was small, dim, suffocating. Metal walls. A low ceiling that smelled of damp and chemicals. Everything was rigid, cold, designed to keep movement minimal. Even the shadows felt like they were watching me.Elder Lee was here. Of course he was. Always just out of reach. Always patient. Always terrifying.He leaned against the far wall, arms folded, lips curved in that calm, dangerous smile that promised punishment just by existing. I shivered and swallowed. My heart raced.He stepped forward slowly, deliberate, like he owned the air itself.“You’ve been quiet,” he said. Smooth. Soft. Too soft. “I can sense your mind wandering. Tell me, Ava—what do you hear?”I froze. My mind screamed for me to answer honestly: Mom. She’s coming. She’ll find me. But I remembered Samantha’s words, her voice threading through my thoughts, calm and strong. Lie. Lie to him. Protect yourself. Protect me.My hands twisted in my lap. “I… I don’t hear anything.”Elder Lee tilt
(Liza’s POV-The Imprint Trail)The forest was wrong.Not in the obvious ways—no screams, no blood, no visible corruption twisting the land into something grotesque. No.This wrongness was quieter.More intimate.It crept under the skin and lodged itself in the gut, a deep instinctual warning that whispered you don’t belong here with every step we took.The air tasted thick. Not with humidity or decay, but with magic—dense enough to cling to the tongue, heavy enough to make breathing feel deliberate. It pressed against my chest like I was walking through someone else’s dream, one shaped by fear and desperation and power that hadn’t yet learned how to be gentle.The trees leaned inward, trunks bowed at unnatural angles. Not broken—never broken—but bent, their branches knitting together overhead like clasped hands. Leaves trembled even when there was no wind, shivering as though they were listening to something moving far beneath the soil.And the ground—The ground pulsed.Not
Samantha’s POVPack Lands – Hours After the RescueThe world never felt this loud.Not with sound—not with voices or movement or the scrape of boots against stone—but with pressure. A low, relentless vibration that seeped into my bones and lodged itself at the base of my skull. Like the earth itself was humming beneath me, restless and alive, shifting toward something inevitable.The healer’s wing smelled of crushed herbs and old stone, of blood scrubbed too quickly from the floor and magic that hadn’t fully settled. Candles flickered along the walls even though there was no draft. Their flames bent and straightened, bending again as if reacting to something unseen.To me.I sat on the edge of the healer’s cot, fingers curled white-knuckled into the blankets, knuckles aching from how hard I was gripping them. The fabric trembled faintly beneath my hands—not because I was shaking, but because everything was.Inside me, my witch paced.Not frantically. Not blindly.She was aler







