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The wait
Última actualización:
2025-09-21 00:44:36
Último capítulo
Bound by the moon Dawn After Hollowborne
Thorne I woke to birdsong that didn’t sound right. Too sharp. Too clean. Like the forest was trying too hard to sound alive. I blinked into the soft grey of dawn. Cael lay a few paces away, wrapped in my cloak, his chest rising slow and steady. For a moment, I just watched the gentle tremor in his fingers, the way moonlight still clung to his hair like silver dust. Alive. Thank the goddess, alive. Then the scent hit me faint, metallic, not my mate’s. I turned my palm over. The black-silver stain from last night had not faded. If anything, it had deepened, curling along the lines of his skin like ink tracing his veins. When he flexed his hand, it pulsed slow, deliberate like it had its own heartbeat. Then curled my fist, forcing it still. “Thorne?” Cael’s voice was rough from sleep, softer than I deserved. Thorne turned toward him and managed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You should rest babe. We will move again soon.” Cael sat up, pulling the cloak tighter. “W
Bound by the moon Blood in the Smoke
Cael I had though that leaving the first cavern was freedom how wrong I was especially with the whispers I heard over the last few days. This was a setup an obvious one too. One that has left the throne of lunavara empty. A king that is always on the run because of his uncrowned Luna. The scent of silver and blood burned in my throat as we ran. Thorne’s hand was locked around mine, warm and unyielding, pulling me through the labyrinth of tunnels. The air was thick with smoke from torches, from blood, from the Hollowborne that burned where they fell. Every time his claws struck stone, sparks hissed in the dark. Behind us, the dungeon screamed — steel crashing, beasts snarling. The sound followed like a curse. “Left!” I gasped, ducking beneath a crumbling archway. The ceiling dripped red. Someone’s blood, not ours. Yet. Thorne didn’t question me. His instincts were too sharp, his wolf too alive. He moved like a storm — all muscle, rage, and the kind of grace that belonged to
Bound by the moon The Scent of Treachery
The night air hit me like a blade. Cold. Sharp. Honest. Inside the council hall, the air had been thick with lies and cheap incense. Out here, beneath the moon’s bruised glow, everything was clearer the trees whispered what men dared not say. Ralph paced inside me, restless. His claws scraped at the edges of my control, his growl a heartbeat beneath mine. He’s close, he murmured. But so are they. I didn’t ask who they were. I already knew. I shifted, half form, bones creaking and reshaping until my senses exploded the world split into scents, heartbeats, the tremor of small lives moving through grass. I caught Cael’s trail instantly. It was faint, fading wild honey and river mist but still there, curling through the forest like a prayer. “Hold on, love,” I whispered, voice half human, half wolf. “I’m coming.” Branches snapped behind me. I stilled. The air changed the faint metallic stench of bloodlust, the sour tang of rogues. And beneath it, something worse: the fam
Bound by the moon Shadows and Silver Chains
Cael.................. The walls breathed in the dark. Not with air, but with the weight of the Hollowborne curse each stone humming faintly, as though the pack’s lost souls were trapped within it. My wrists ached where the silver cuffs bit through skin, but I’d long learned to quiet pain. Pain was a teacher; it reminded you that you were still alive. The torchlight outside my cell flickered, spilling an orange glow across the floor. They thought I was asleep. Good. It had been three days since the ambush three days since Thorne’s face vanished behind smoke and fire. The Hollowborne didn’t kill right away; they liked to break their captives first. I’d seen it in their eyes, the gleam of triumph at capturing “the weak Luna.” That was their mistake. I was no Luna yet, and I sure as hell wasn’t weak. My fingers had been working the cuff’s hinge since morning. One wrong move, one impatient tug, and it would slice deeper. I waited for the guard to make his third round he always paus
Bound by the moon The Fractured Throne
The council hall smelled of old wood and rain-soaked stone. Torches lined the walls, their flames shivering in the draft that sneaked through the cracks of the great doors. I sat at the head of the table, the symbol of my rank gleaming faintly in the firelight a crown that suddenly felt far heavier than it looked. It had been three days since Cael was taken. The scent of him wild honey and silver dew still lingered in my chambers, haunting me like a promise I had failed to keep. I could almost hear his laughter in the echo of the hallways, his soft voice calling my name in dreams I woke up fighting to hold onto. Ralph prowled restlessly in the back of my mind. His growl was a low, constant hum, like a storm behind closed doors. “They’re lying,” he whispered, his voice rough with instinct. “At least half of them. I can smell it.” I didn’t need his warning to feel the unease in the room. The elders sat around me in silence that wasn’t quite respectful more like waiting for bloo
Bound by the moon The Quiet Between Storms
The morning came slow. Golden light crawled over the stone walls and touched the edge of my bed like a shy visitor. Cael lay half asleep beside me, his breathing steady, his lashes brushing against his cheek. For once, there was no panic in the halls, no messenger pounding at my door, no scent of fear rolling off my warriors. Just quiet. Just him. He always slept curled toward me, one hand tucked beneath his chin, as if afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold the space between us. His scent rain, lavender, and a hint of something just him filled the room. It settled under my skin, calming the part of me that always reached for battle. My fingers found their way to his hair, tracing idle circles against his scalp. His wolf stirred faintly through the bond sleepy, content the sound of soft paws over fallen leaves. For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to breathe without armor on. “Stop staring,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. “I wasn’t,” I said, though I’d been doing
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