LOGINShare
Rhea
Last Updated:
2025-11-15 01:31:05The last day of summer always tasted like disappointment.
Warm air clung to my skin as I shoved the final sweater into my suitcase, the golden light spilling through the window doing nothing to soften the gnawing dread in my chest. Tomorrow meant Silver Ridge Academy—nine months of pretending the place didn’t suck the soul out of me.
On paper, Silver Ridge was Lycandra’s pride. The jewel of the wolf realm. A boarding academy set on the edge of the capital, backed by wards older than memory and endorsed by every High Council across the realms. The school promised to mold the “next generation of leaders” into paragons of power—future Alphas, Betas, and heirs, brushed and polished until they gleamed like trophies.
Reality? Silver Ridge was a war zone disguised in velvet.
The hierarchy wasn’t written anywhere, but you learned it fast. At the top sat the bloodline elites—names carved into Lycandra’s history, dripping with wealth, magic, and centuries of entitlement. Their dominance carried the kind of weight that silenced rooms, and they thrived on cutting down anyone beneath them. Which was everyone else.
The bottom tier? Wolves like me.
The scholarship kids. The outsiders. The ones with no impressive family name, no grand claim to power, no seat reserved at the High Table. “Charity cases,” as the whispers went. And whispers traveled fast at Silver Ridge.
It wasn’t just wolves either. The Great Accord made sure of that. Every realm—Lycandra, Lycan’Dra, Valoria, Drakonis, even the borderlands near the Obsidian Wilds—sent their youth to train, study, and survive under one roof. Supposedly to build unity. In reality, it only made the battlefield sharper.
The fae glided through the halls cloaked in glamours, their dominance prickling like static whenever they were provoked. Dragon-blood heirs carried scales like jewelry across their skin, their eyes glowing faintly when temper flared. Even siren-bloods prowled the grounds, their sweet voices muted by runes woven into the walls.
Everyone here had magic—it was born into your blood. Wolves had shifting. Fae carried enchantments. Drakonics bent flame. Different gifts, same rule: everything could be bound into sigils. The academy itself was covered in them, carved into the stone bones of the castle. The wards thrummed faintly even from a distance, ancient runes keeping out external threats. But nothing inside those gates protected you from each other.
Because at Silver Ridge, danger didn’t come from the outside. It sat beside you at breakfast.
I glanced in the mirror.
Bum-length silver hair. Blue eyes too bright to hide. Curves that made blending in impossible. Not stick-thin. Not dripping in enchanted couture like half the she-wolves who strutted past in skirts tailored to gleam under moonlight. Just me. Rhea Morgan. Seventeen. Eighteen in less than two weeks.
And for all I knew, still not chosen.
The thought clawed like always. The moment I shifted, I’d know. If the Moon Goddess willed it, I’d feel the tether snap into place—soul and spirit fused to another’s. Some wolves felt it instantly. Others never did. And if She didn’t choose me? I wasn’t sure what was left.
My adoptive parents loved me fiercely. They gave me a name, a home, a life worth protecting. But the truth didn’t vanish: someone else had left me. Someone had abandoned me on Ridge Storm borders as a newborn, swaddled in nothing but a silver-stitched blanket with my birthday. They’d chosen not to keep me. Not to love me.
And if even the Goddess turned her back?
The ache in my chest throbbed sharper.
My phone buzzed. Only one person blew up my line this early.
“Hey, Rhee!” Lila Caine’s voice burst through the speaker, bright as always. “Ready for senior year?”
“Oh, thrilled,” I deadpanned. “Can’t wait to get publicly executed on the social ladder again.”
She laughed. “It’s not going to be that bad.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what you said last year before Maeve Blackthorn ‘accidentally’ tripped me into a mud puddle.”
Lila hissed. “Ugh, don’t say her name. Anyway, positives. We’re suite-mates this year. Plus Nora and Bree. It’s going to be epic.”
Nora Sinclair and Bree Hale—my other best friends. Nora looked soft until you underestimated her, then cut sharp as glass. Bree was gentle, dreamy, but carried iron when pressed. Together, they kept me alive at Silver Ridge, balancing Lila’s endless energy with their own brands of loyalty. We weren’t just friends. We were a pack.
The circle stretched further—Bree’s twin, Finn, who lived for chaos; MJ, who was as sarcastic as me but reckless; Evan, another scholarship wolf who had the rare skill of staying invisible. Misfits, royals, orphans. Somehow, it worked.
“Anyway,” Lila said. “You’re coming to dinner tomorrow. No excuses.”
I groaned. “Lila—”
“Nope. It’s my mate dinner. My parents are hosting it for Theo and me, and you’re coming if I have to drag you barefoot.”
Theo Hayes. Her mate. The future Beta. And bonded heart and soul.
“I’ll think about it,” I muttered.
“Good,” she chirped. “And don’t worry about what to wear—I’ll handle it.”
Which meant I should definitely worry.
When we hung up, I stared at the half-packed suitcase and the fragments of summer still scattered across my room.
Silver Ridge Academy waited.
The wards over its gates were already humming faintly in my mind, like they knew me. Like they remembered me.
I wasn’t ready. I might never be ready.
But the Moon Goddess had written my story the day I was abandoned.
The only question left was whether She’d ever let me rewrite it.
Latest chapter
Moonbound At Sliver Ridge Seth
Josiah’s jaw flexes so hard I can hear his teeth creak.From where I’m leaned against the bedpost, one hand resting near Snowflake’s shoulder under the blankets, I can feel the tension in the room like a live wire. The air’s thick with it. Wolf dominance. Lycan dominance. Royal temper barely leashed.And under all of that, like a steady drum in my chest—her.The bond.It’s not a tug anymore. Not an almost. It’s locked in. Threads-through-your-bones, no-going-back real. I can feel each of my brothers as three separate pulse points, each a different beat—Storm’s controlled weight, Blaze’s wildfire, Prince’s ache—and all of it is rooted in the unconscious girl between us.Ours.I drag in a breath and let my shoulder thump softly back against the wall, because if I don’t have something solid at my back, I might actually do something stupid. Like lunge across the room at the Kings.“Okay,” I say, because someone has to break the silence and, shocker, it’s me again. “You tried the prophecy
Moonbound At Sliver Ridge Rory
The doors blow open on a rush of light and magic.For a second, nobody moves.The corridor is full of scorched air, crackling runes, and the echo of a scream that didn’t sound like it belonged to any living thing I’ve ever heard. Wolves are still on their knees. Some haven’t managed to get up yet. The walls hum with leftover power, like the Chamber itself is trying to remember which way is up.And then Jaxon steps through.He’s barefoot, shirtless, half-wrecked—blood streaked down his arm in crescent shapes where claws clearly tore through him—but all I see is the bundle in his arms.Blanket.Tangle of silver hair.My chest stutters.I’m moving before I realize I’ve shoved anyone. It doesn’t matter who’s in my way—warriors, healers, royals—my hands are on Jax in the next breath.“How bad?” I rasp.He looks like someone peeled him out of a battlefield. Eyes too bright, jaw clenched so hard a vein ticks in his cheek. His voice is sandpaper.“She’s alive.”Alive.My knees nearly give out
Moonbound At Sliver Ridge Rhea
White.Not light. Not magic. Not moonfire.Just white, swallowing everything, swallowing me.A ringing fills my head—sharp, metallic and endless. Like the world cracked open and the sound poured through the fractures. I don’t know where my body is. I don’t know if I have one. I don’t know if I’m breathing or just remembering how breathing felt.Somewhere far away, someone screams.It takes me too long to realize it’s me.My throat burns. My lungs seize. Something—something—is crushing my ribs from the inside out. A force that’s too big for my body and too angry.I hear Jaxon shouting my name—no, not my name.“Sunshine—look at me—stay with me—”His voice sounds like it’s underwater.I try to reach for him but my fingers don’t move. I try to breathe my lungs don’t respond. I try to scream something else screams for me.Because something is tearing.Not outside.Not around me.Inside.My vision flickers—white to black to gold to silver to nothing.Pressure slams down on me like a mountai
Moonbound At Sliver Ridge Jaxon
The Chamber seals behind me with a sound I feel in my teeth.Not a slam. Not a click.A lock.Rhea jerks in my arms the moment the runes settle—her body too hot, too rigid, too wrong. Her heat burns through my shirt like she’s made of molten metal instead of flesh. I lower us to the moonstone floor, bracing her back against my chest, trying to anchor her with my weight.Her breath fractures on every exhale.“Sunshine,” I whisper against her temple, “stay with me. Don’t drift.”She doesn’t answer.She can’t.Her pulse thrashes beneath my hand like something wild trying to claw its way out of her skin. Sweat slicks her neck. Her nails dig into my forearm—not consciously, not with any awareness—just raw instinct and pain.The Chamber reacts immediately.The walls ripple—silver sigils lighting, then shifting to a deeper gold, then twisting into a colour that should not exist. The air tightens like the realm itself is holding a breath it doesn’t know how to release.I swallow hard.Callum
Moonbound At Sliver Ridge Seth
The Shift Chamber doors are inches from Callum’s hand when the world decides to fall apart.It starts with the wards.They flicker—silver, then gold, then a colour that shouldn’t exist in the wolf spectrum at all. A pulse rolls through the corridor like the Packhouse is inhaling sharply.My wolf’s ears go flat.That’s never a good sign.Rhea is half-limp in Callum’s arms, forehead pressed to his shoulder, breaths shallow and fast. Her skin is too hot—again. Her aura too loud. Her pulse too wild. Everything in her is screaming toward some breaking point and we’re just trying to get her behind the godsdamn doors before she—“CALLUM!”The shout cracks through the hall like a weapon.All four of us turn as their footsteps thunder down the staircase.Rhea’s parents.Her adopted parents.Rowan Morgan and Elaina Morgan, the people who raised the girl currently burning up in my brother’s arms.Behind them, another pair follows—taller, sharper, power threaded through their posture with rigid p
Moonbound At Sliver Ridge Jaxon
Callum’s arms are shaking.No one else sees it—no one ever sees it—but I do. Callum can hold a battlefield steady with blood on his boots and a kingdom on his back, but right now?Right now he’s holding her, and every muscle in his body is fighting not to fall apart.Rhea is burning up.Not fever-burn. Not shift-fever.This is power burn—raw, rising, wrong. Like her skin is too mortal to hold what’s trying to tear its way out.She’s curled against Callum’s chest, breath broken, trembling every few seconds. Every time her fingers twitch, the four of us lock up like we’ve been stabbed.I hate this.I hate not knowing what’s happening.I hate that I can’t stop it.I hate how scared I am—actually, genuinely terrified—for the first time in my life.We move through Ridge Storm’s corridor in formation:Callum carrying her.Seth taking point.Rory whispering steady words at her side.And me pressed close at her back, ready to grab her if even Callum falters.The wards hum as we pass—louder th
You may also like
