LOGINCentered on Baylee, a strong but scarred werewolf torn between her jealous ex, Gunner, and her fated mate, Collin. Set in a modern supernatural world with ancient pack laws, hidden rivalries, and dangerous secrets.
View MoreThe night air was heavy with rain and pine, thick enough to taste. Baylee ran through the forest, her paws whispering over moss and soil, heart pounding to the rhythm of the wild. The forest knew her—every root, every scent, every shadow. It had been her refuge since she’d left the Ironclaw Pack months ago. Out here, no one whispered her name like a curse or pitied her for the mark that never came.
But tonight was different. The moon hung swollen and red above the trees, bleeding through the branches like a watchful eye. The Blood Moon. The night when fate was supposed to reveal what was meant to be—and destroy what was not. Baylee didn’t believe in destiny anymore. Not after Gunner. The thought of him was enough to twist something deep inside her chest. He had been her first everything—her first kiss beneath the wolf moon, her first shift under his watchful gaze, her first heartbreak when he’d turned his back on her for power. The Alpha’s son couldn’t choose a mate who didn’t strengthen his line. And Baylee, the orphaned daughter of a disgraced warrior, had never stood a chance. So she’d run. And running was all she knew how to do. But the forest whispered tonight. The wind carried something new. A pulse. A presence. Baylee slowed near the river, shifting to her human form as the moonlight caught on her bare skin. Her body hummed with tension, her senses sharp and searching. The air trembled with something she couldn’t name. That’s when she smelled it. A scent so rich and intoxicating it nearly brought her to her knees. Wild cedar. Storm rain. Something ancient that called to her wolf with a voice older than time. Her breath hitched. Her wolf stirred. Mate. The word burned through her like fire. “No,” she whispered, backing away as if she could outrun the truth. “No, not again.” She turned, ready to flee, but a deep voice rolled through the shadows, low and steady. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Her head snapped toward the sound. A man stepped from between the trees, tall and broad-shouldered, the moonlight brushing across his face. His eyes glowed faintly—gray, almost silver—and they locked on her as though he’d known her forever. He wore nothing but the shift of his own skin, the scent of his wolf surrounding him like heat and stormlight. He wasn’t Ironclaw. She could sense that immediately. There was a calm strength in him, something she’d never seen in the men she’d grown up with. Her pulse thundered. “Who are you?” He stopped a few feet away, raising his hands slightly to show he meant no harm. “Collin. Of the Silverveil Pack.” Baylee’s stomach dropped. Silverveil. Of all packs, it had to be them. The Ironclaws had fought Silverveil wolves for generations over territory and pride. Every child in her pack had been raised to hate them—to fear them. Yet here she stood, heart racing, skin tingling, staring at a man whose scent sang to her bones. “The Moon Goddess must be laughing,” she muttered under her breath. Collin tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You felt it too, didn’t you?” Baylee swallowed hard. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t believe in mates.” He smiled faintly, but there was sadness in his eyes. “Belief doesn’t change what’s true.” Something in his tone made her chest ache. It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. The kind that came from surviving things she couldn’t imagine. She took a step back. “Whatever this is, it’s a mistake.” Before Collin could reply, a growl sliced through the night—low, guttural, familiar enough to freeze her blood. No. Not now. Not him. The forest went still as the wind shifted again, carrying a scent she’d hoped never to breathe again. Smoke and iron. Gunner. Collin’s expression sharpened. “We’re not alone.” Baylee barely had time to move before a dark blur shot from the trees. Gunner shifted mid-leap, landing on two feet in front of her, his chest heaving, eyes glowing molten gold. “Baylee,” he rasped, voice low and dangerous. “You’ve been busy.” She stared at him, torn between shock and fury. “You followed me.” “I’ve been tracking you for weeks.” His gaze slid past her to Collin, his lip curling. “And now I see why.” Collin didn’t flinch. “Step back, Ironclaw. She doesn’t belong to you.” A snarl ripped from Gunner’s throat. “You think I’m letting some Silverveil bastard near her?” Baylee stepped between them, hands trembling but steady. “Enough! Both of you!” Gunner’s eyes softened as he looked at her, just for a moment. “I made a mistake, Baylee. I shouldn’t have marked Maren. I—” “You did what you had to,” she cut in sharply. “You made your choice.” Collin’s wolf growled softly behind her, the air crackling with power. The Blood Moon hung above them, glowing brighter now, as if the Goddess herself were watching. Gunner’s gaze darkened, his voice raw. “He’s not your mate, Baylee.” Her wolf surged against her skin, defiant. “He is.” The silence that followed was thick enough to drown in. Gunner’s jaw tightened, his fury barely leashed. Collin’s stance remained calm but ready—protective. Baylee took a breath, lifting her chin. “You need to leave, Gunner.” “You think you can run from me again?” he growled. “You’re still mine, Baylee.” “No,” she whispered, voice trembling but firm. “I never was.” The wind howled through the trees, carrying the sound of distant thunder. Collin stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers in silent support. And as the first drops of rain fell through the canopy, Baylee knew that whatever peace she’d built in exile was over. Fate had found her again—and this time, it came with teeth.Baylee slept for almost a full day after she woke. Not the heavy, frightening stillness of before. Not that sealed, unreachable Moon-sleep. This was human sleep. Real sleep. Healing sleep. Collin didn’t move from her side. He didn’t intend to — ever again, if he could help it. He sat still and quiet, one hand holding hers, the other palm resting over the curve of her stomach, feeling the living hum beneath her skin. Sometimes he whispered to the pup. Sometimes he whispered to her. Sometimes he whispered to both at once. And sometimes he just… breathed. For the first time in weeks, breathing didn’t feel like a fight. The room was warmer than it had been in days. Jessica had opened the curtains, letting daylight spill in across the floor. A small fire glowed in the hearth, banked low. There were flowers everywhere now—lilies, heather sprigs, pale mountain blooms, even scraps of scorched Emberfell fire-petal. Symbols of every allied pack, all gathered here, like offerings at a shri
Baylee had always thought sleep was rest.This… wasn’t.She wasn’t floating, dreamy and warm. She wasn’t in darkness. She was caught — pulled between a body that wouldn’t move and a world that wouldn’t let her leave.Sometimes there was sound. A low voice. A touch on her hand. Sometimes fingers brushed through her hair, careful, reverent, steady. Sometimes she heard Heather muttering things like “if you die I’ll resurrect you just to yell at you.” Sometimes she felt Melody’s magic humming like a soft current.But always, always, there was him.Collin’s voice, Collin’s breath, Collin’s warmth, Collin’s heartbeat under her cheek — even when she couldn’t feel her own.You come back to me, he’d whisper. You hear me, Bay? You come back.And one day — she decided she was tired of making him wait.So she did.—It happened in pieces, like crawling up out of deep water.First: sound. A steady sound. Rhythmic. Familiar. The scrape of a chair leg across wood. A sigh.Then: scent. Pine smoke. Th
The world had gone quiet after the battle.Smoke still curled above the ridges, but the Veil no longer pulsed; the forest had gone back to breathing. The rain washed blood from the roots and stone. Wolves rebuilt fences, buried their fallen, and whispered prayers to a goddess none of them fully trusted anymore.And in the center of Silverveil, behind the warded doors of the Alpha’s house, Baylee slept.She hadn’t stirred in five days.Not a sigh. Not a twitch of lashes. Only the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath the blanket.---A Circle That Wouldn’t BreakNo one left her alone.Jessica sat in the mornings, knitting silently beside the bed. Derik took the evenings, sharpening blades at her bedside as if daring the Moon to try again. Melody refreshed the wards every few hours, fingers trembling each time she traced the sigil on Baylee’s wrist. Even the triplets took turns sneaking in, curling against the foot of the bed like tiny sentinels.But Collin never moved.He’d taken a c
Dawn didn’t break.It tore.The sky over Silverveil split open in a smear of red-gray light like a wound in the air. The Veil pulsed with an ugly brightness, throbbing in slow waves as if the world itself were breathing through damaged lungs. The woods had gone silent. The river had gone still. The air tasted like iron.And then it began.Jade didn’t sneak in this time. She arrived like a storm front.The Veil ripped — ripped — and a shockwave rolled over the valley. Wolves staggered. Trees bent. Torches and lanterns blew out all at once.Collin didn’t wait for orders. “Positions!” his voice roared. “Silverveil with me! Ironclaw to the west flank! Frostfang, hold the ridge! Emberfell, burn them from range! Nightshade — shadows only, no direct engagement unless I call it!”Howls answered him, layered and powerful, bouncing off stone and tree like thunder made of teeth.They were ready.And yet Baylee knew: this wasn’t going to be won by armies.This was going to be won by her.Or lost
The night Silverveil called for allies, the mountains answered.The Moon hung bruised and swollen over the valley, red clouds drifting like smoke. The air tasted of rain and blood, and the Veil pulsed faintly in the distance — the wound between worlds still open, still hungry.They didn’t have long.---The Call to ArmsCollin stood in the courtyard, silver light washing over his shoulders. Wolves gathered around him — his warriors, his family, his pack. Heather at his right, Liam and Lilly close behind, Melody murmuring quiet blessings under her breath.Baylee stood beside him, cloak drawn tight, her face pale but her eyes blazing.When she spoke, her voice carried through the courtyard like the sound of wind through steel.“Jade isn’t just after me anymore,” she said. “She wants to open the Veil — to tear the world between life and death apart. But she won’t do it alone. She can’t. She’s gathering the lost. The corrupted. The broken.”Her gaze swept the crowd.“We gather the living.
The first omen came at dawn.Silverveil woke to find every pool, puddle, and basin in the territory turned to silver. Not frozen. Not poisoned. Just reflective. Like liquid mirrors.Melody tested one with her fingertip and flinched back as if burned.“It’s watching,” she whispered.Collin’s jaw flexed. “Who?”Melody didn’t bother pretending not to know. “The Moon.”No one drank from the river that day.No one howled.No one slept with their window shutters open.They felt seen.Judged.Claimed.---By midday, the second omen arrived.The sky darkened, not with storm clouds, but with a strange pale glow. The air went still. Birds vanished. Even the insects fell silent. The hair on every wolf’s neck lifted.And then the nausea hit.Half the pack dropped to their knees in unison, gripping their stomachs, gagging on nothing. Jessica staggered and Derik caught her. Liam went to one hand and gritted through it. Heather bent forward, cursing. Even Collin stumbled, breath shuddering in his ch
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