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Nineteen
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2025-09-23 17:00:02Selene
The world narrowed to the rubble and flames separating me from Draven, his still form barely visible through the choking dust and smoke. His chest had stopped rising, his blood pooling beneath him and soaking into the cracked stone."Draven!" I screamed and began frantically clawing at the debris, nails splitting as I heaved rocks aside, the heat scorching my skin. "Draven, get up. Gods, please, get up!"The flames licked higher, devouring everything they touched. I heard Torren's pained groan cut through the haze. I turned to see he lay nearby, his arm mangled, with his leg twisted at an unnatural angle."Luna, get out! The tunnel's coming down!""No!" I snarled, tossing another stone aside, my hands bloody now. "He's not breathing, help me!"The ceiling groaned again, more rubble crashing down, forcing us back. The guards were gone, scattered or crushed, but the flames spread, the curse turning them into writhing sh
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Her Alpha's Rejection, His Luna's Rise Twenty-one
SeleneThe stone hall of Shadowfang was colder than the storm outside, its high walls lined with torches that flickered against carved wolf sigils. I stood at the center, flanked by Veyra, and Thorne, while the pack crowded the benches, murmuring. Draven stood close, his bandaged arm stiff at his side, but his warmth didn’t reach me. Last night’s promise in the temple felt fragile now, silent since we left the courtyard. Torren leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed, his face was unreadable, his eyes burning when they flicked my way. Elara’s death was a wound we all carried, but his grief felt like an accusation. Eldress Mara rose, her voice cutting through the hall. “The mission to retrieve the Luna’s son failed. Elara is dead, our Alpha is wounded, and Kaelen walks free. We demand answers.” The pack stirred, with whispers rising among the crowd. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. They deserved the truth, but how could I e
Her Alpha's Rejection, His Luna's Rise Twenty
SeleneThe storm battered us as we stumbled through the jagged hills toward Shadowfang, a relentless downpour soaking us to the bone. Torren carried Elara’s body, wrapped tightly in blood-stained cloaks. He hadn’t spoken since we fled the collapsing fortress, his eyes fixed ahead like he could outrun the pain. I gripped Draven’s arm, steadying him as he limped, but he’d barely looked at me since, his focus locked on guiding the group home.“Keep moving,” Draven rasped, voice hoarse as he waved Veyra and Thorne ahead.Veyra glanced back, her braid plastered to her neck, eyes sharp with worry. “Draven, you’re bleeding again. Let me–”“I said move,” he snapped, wincing as he stepped over a rock. His tone softened. “We’re almost there. Save it for the healers.”I tightened my grip on his arm, feeling the tremor in his muscles. “You’re not invincible, Nightbane. Let me take some weight.”He pulled away. “I’ve got it, Selene.”
Her Alpha's Rejection, His Luna's Rise Nineteen
SeleneThe world narrowed to the rubble and flames separating me from Draven, his still form barely visible through the choking dust and smoke. His chest had stopped rising, his blood pooling beneath him and soaking into the cracked stone. "Draven!" I screamed and began frantically clawing at the debris, nails splitting as I heaved rocks aside, the heat scorching my skin. "Draven, get up. Gods, please, get up!" The flames licked higher, devouring everything they touched. I heard Torren's pained groan cut through the haze. I turned to see he lay nearby, his arm mangled, with his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. "Luna, get out! The tunnel's coming down!" "No!" I snarled, tossing another stone aside, my hands bloody now. "He's not breathing, help me!" The ceiling groaned again, more rubble crashing down, forcing us back. The guards were gone, scattered or crushed, but the flames spread, the curse turning them into writhing sh
Her Alpha's Rejection, His Luna's Rise Eighteen
SeleneThe fortress’s iron gates loomed behind us, their runes pulsing red like a heartbeat, sealing Veyra, Thorne, Renn, and Elara outside. Dorian’s cries echoed through the stone corridors ahead, each one a knife twisting in my chest. “Stay close,” Draven whispered, drawing his sword, golden eyes scanning the dark. Torren flanked him, holding a dagger on either hand, ready for anything. The prisoner we’d freed earlier trailed behind us, muttering about traps. "Be careful. Kaelen rigged this entire place,” he rasped. “There're blood wards everywhere.” “Keep moving,” I said, following Dorian’s cries. The corridors twisted as we moved, the stone walls carved with ancient runes that pulsed erratically, amplifying the curse. We reached a central chamber, its ceiling arched high, lit by flickering braziers. At the far end, behind bars glowing with blood-red wards, was Dorian. My son's red hair was matted now, his small hands gripping the bars,
Her Alpha's Rejection, His Luna's Rise Seventeen
Selene The prisoner’s words echoed in my skull, as I tried to process. The ritual of Vermous. A scorned Luna’s blood. Kaelen wasn’t just holding Dorian hostage for the fun of it, he was luring me to the Red Cliffs to get my blood for the ritual. A ritual that would crown him Alpha over all six packs: Bloodfang, Shadowfang, Veyor, Castleseal, Archevale, and Mysticlands. Just the thought of it sent my head reeling. That amount of power would amplify his wolf tenfold, making him untouchable. The fire in our camp flickered, casting long shadows that twisted into mocking faces, the curse’s whispers hissing in my ear: You’ll fail. Dorian’s gone and it's your fault. I clenched my fists as I pondered it, my son was bait, and I was the prize. The realization burned, fueling the guilt over the raid that already choked me. Draven sat across the fire, his golden eyes fixed on the prisoner who cowered under his star
Her Alpha's Rejection, His Luna's Rise Sixteen
Selene Morwen’s sigil, a crescent moon pierced by a dagger, flashed on the banners, confirming Renn’s report. My chest tightened, the curse’s whispers weaving through my thoughts: Traitor. You’ll lose them all. Mixing with the dread of facing Morwen, Draven’s former betrothed, and now Kaelen’s ally. The Red Cliffs loomed closer, but this patrol stood between us and Dorian... and possibly the artefact Morwen carried, if Torren’s intel held true. Draven crouched beside me behind a jagged outcrop, his golden eyes scanning the approaching patrol. “Twelve, maybe fifteen,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the odds. “We hit fast, use the curse’s illusions to our advantage. Selene, cover the left flank with your bow. Veyra, right. Thorne, Renn, with me. Elara, stay back but be ready.” I nodded, nocking an arrow, but my hands shook. The hallucinations hadn’t relented –
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