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A Voice for Herself

Author: Tyson Roy
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-20 14:48:13

The Great Assembly Hall of the Moonrise Pack stretched before Aria like an overwhelming chasm. Usually reserved for pack-wide pronouncements or celebrations, its vaulted ceiling towered above, supported by massive, rough-hewn timbers that had stood for centuries. Sunlight, fractured into dusty beams by high windows, illuminated the dense crowd packed onto tiered benches, their collective presence a weight in the air. Every face was turned toward the central dais where the elders sat, their expressions a mix of grim expectation and simmering curiosity.

Aria stood just beyond the dais, a solitary figure in a simple, dark tunic that did little to hide the gentle curve of her pregnancy. Her hands, clasped before her, trembled slightly—not from fear, but from anticipation. The air around her was thick with unspoken questions, with a thousand judgments. She felt their eyes as physical touches, accusing, dissecting, pitying. It was the same relentless scrutiny she had endured in the temple,
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  • Moonlit Secrets   A Name for the Unborn

    The firelight flickered against the rough-hewn walls of Aria’s small home, casting golden patterns across shelves of jars, folded linens, and the worn wooden cradle by the hearth. Outside, the world lay sealed in frost and darkness, but inside, warmth reigned—a quiet refuge she had built from hardship and hope.The night was peaceful. The village celebration had faded into memories of laughter and music. Xander had stayed until the embers burned low, ensuring she was safe before leaving to meet with the council. And for the first time in weeks, Aria was alone. The solitude was gentle, not heavy—just a moment to breathe, to listen to the crackling fire, the child’s gentle movements within her, and the steady rhythm of her own heart.Sitting cross-legged on a woven rug, her woollen shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, she opened her battered leather journal. Pages filled with years of healing notes, recipes, and scattered poetry lay before her. Tonight, she turned to a clean page

  • Moonlit Secrets   In the Eyes of the Pack

    The late afternoon sun bathed the village green in warm golden hues, casting long shadows under the sprawling oak at the center. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and the faint chill of winter’s breath, a reminder that the seasons were shifting once again. The pack had gathered for the monthly communal feast—a tradition older than the council itself. Long tables were piled high with platters of roast meats and baskets of honeyed bread, stretching beneath the ancient oak that had witnessed generations of both triumph and tragedy.It was a day for celebration: the successful harvest, the return of the hunters, the promise of another winter survived. But beneath the cheerful chatter and the clinking of mugs, there was an undercurrent of tension. Eyes kept darting to the northern path, anticipation hanging thick in the air.“Will he come? After everything?”“They say the Alpha nearly died. It was the healer who saved him.”“I heard she’s carrying his child.”“Nonsense. Sh

  • Moonlit Secrets   The Alpha in Recovery

    The morning light crept slowly through the mullioned windows of Xander’s private quarters, bathing the stone walls and woolen blankets in a soft, golden hue. The room, which had once stood as a symbol of strength and solitude, now bore the quiet marks of struggle: a crutch leaning against the hearth, bandages neatly coiled on the bedside table, and the faintest shadow of bloodstains on the floor—silent witnesses to battles fought and survived.Xander lay on the wide cot, propped against a fortress of pillows, each muscle aching with the memory of steel and fire. The pain was always sharpest in the mornings, the throbbing in his ribs a constant reminder of his mortality. Yet beneath the bruises, beneath the exhaustion, there was something new—a quiet resolve, a determination that belonged not to the Alpha, but to the man who had almost bled out with so many words left unspoken.He flexed his fingers, testing their strength, feeling the pulse in his wrists. His wounds were healing, slow

  • Moonlit Secrets   The First Heartbeat

    The light of dawn was slow, creeping across the sky above Dawnveil’s healer’s den. The storm that had ravaged the mountains hadn’t quite reached here, but its lingering presence hung in the air, heavy and full of anticipation. Outside, the sound of children laughing and playing carried through the breeze, reminding Aria of simpler times. But within the walls of the den, everything felt still, held in the tender space between life and death, a fragile waiting room where everything could change.Aria sat on the narrow cot by the hearth, her hands protectively cradling her growing belly. The events of the previous night were still fresh in her body—the frantic hours of surgery, Xander’s broken, bloody body beneath her hands, the moment when he had awoken, whispering her name with words she had longed for, but never dared to truly believe.“I’ve always loved you.”That confession had been gentle, breaking through what was old and broken in their relationship, making space for something ne

  • Moonlit Secrets   Her Hands, His Heart

    The dawn was gray, its light bleeding slowly into the sky above Dawnveil’s emergency healer’s den. The storm that had battered the mountains had not yet reached here, but its echoes lingered in every shadow, thick with anticipation. In the quiet of this small, sacred space, the world seemed to shrink down to the thin line between life and death, drawn by one woman’s hands and the faltering heart of a man she had both loved and lost.Aria Hartfield stood at the head of the stone table, her hands already bloodied up to the wrists, sleeves rolled, hair bound back with a trembling resolve. Her kit was open beside her: scalpels, glinting needles, cloths stained with crimson, vials of herbs and moonwater. The air smelled of iron and lavender, sweat and salt—her body working in rhythm with the urgency around her. The den was a place of both terror and hope, where every second was a battle for survival.Xander lay before her, half-shifted, fevered, unconscious. Once invincible, now vulnerable

  • Moonlit Secrets   When the Alpha Bleeds

    The wind howled through the narrow ravine, pulling at Xander’s cloak as he rode along the treacherous path. Above, the sky churned with a brooding storm, the thunder reverberating between the jagged cliffs. The far reaches of Moonrise territory had always been dangerous, but tonight, there was something different in the air—a suffocating pressure, a feeling of danger close at hand. Every muscle in the Alpha’s body tensed as he rode, instincts sharp and alert.Xander had come seeking answers, following the scent of strange tracks on the border—footprints where no wolf from his pack should have been. Alone, as was often his way, he trusted his senses over the politics of the council. He needed to escape the weight of Aria’s return, the letter she had left still pressed to his heart, a silent promise that now cut deeper with each passing moment.But pride, as he would soon discover, was no shield against what awaited him.The ambush came suddenly, as though the land itself had conspired

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