LOGIN#readthisnow #werewolfstories #newchapter #whatyouare…terrifies me New chapter dropping tomorrow.
LEAH DECKERThe mourning chants followed us long after the funeral fires had died.I could still hear them.Even after Marten had taken the burning torch from my trembling hands and led me away from the pyres, the voices of Tombstone echoed through the cold evening air."Hail, the dead.""Rest the souls of our dead."The words rolled through Tombstone like waves striking stone cliffs, solemn and powerful, carrying the grief of an entire kingdom.Marten's hand remained wrapped around mine as he drew me back from the edge of the burial grounds. I did not resist him. I did not think I had the strength to.My eyes remained fixed on the sea.The ashes of the fallen drifted upon its dark waters.Maria was among them now.Gone.Truly gone.The realization cut deeper than any blade.Marten must have sensed it because he squeezed my hand gently."They died with honor," he said quietly.I lowered my head."Honor does not make losing them easier.""No," he agreed after a long silence. "It never d
LEAH DECKERThe entire kingdom of Tombstone mourned that night.Dark clouds stretched across the heavens, swallowing the stars one after another until only the pale moon remained, watching from above like a silent witness to our grief. Hundreds of torches illuminated the great courtyard. Their flames danced against the cold mountain winds, casting long shadows upon stone walls that had seen generations of war, victory, loss, and sacrifice.I stood beside Marten beneath the towering pillars, surrounded by an ocean of black-clad wolves, warriors, servants, elders, and grieving families.Nobody spoke.Nobody smiled.Even the children remained quiet.Only sorrow existed.The burial horns had ceased their mournful cry, but their echoes still lingered within my heart.Rows upon rows of bodies lay before us.Some belonged to warriors who had charged into battle with roars on their lips.Some belonged to servants who had followed their masters faithfully into danger. Others belonged to wolves
LEAH DECKERI remained there for a few seconds after the words left my mouth. My fingers slowly loosened around Maria's cold hand. The room was silent.Painfully silent. The kind of silence that made every heartbeat sound loud, that settled over people when grief became too heavy for words.Slowly, I lowered her hand back onto her chest.The white cloth remained folded around her body.Peaceful, still and gone. I swallowed hard and forced myself to stand upright. My knees felt weak. My chest hurt. Yet I knew I could not remain there forever. The dead deserved mourning but the living needed strength. Slowly, I turned around.My heart immediately dropped. Everyone was staring at me.The physicians, the wounded warriors, the servants, the healers. Every single person inside that chamber, their eyes followed me. Some looked sympathetic, some looked heartbroken. Others looked stunned as if they had witnessed something they never expected. I understood why. To them I was not simply Leah.I w
LEAH DECKERThe smell reached me before the room itself did.Blood, medicine, wet cloth, burnt flesh, death. My footsteps slowed as the maid led me through the stone corridors beneath Tombstone. The sounds of celebration above had become distant now. The victory chants. The cheers. The triumphant cries of warriors returning home.None of it belonged here.Down here, victory had a different face.Down here, victory bled.The maid remained silent beside me as we descended another flight of stairs. Her hands trembled slightly while carrying a lantern. I noticed it.Everyone was afraid, everyone was grieving, they had lost something on that mountain. The war was over, but the cost had only begun revealing itself.My chest tightened. I kept seeing Maria's face.Her smile.Her patience.The way she constantly fussed over me, how she adjusted my dresses. The way she encouraged me when I doubted myself, stood between me and my fears even when she had fears of her own.The guilt was becoming u
LEAH DECKERThe young maid remained on her knees before us, her head bowed so low it nearly touched the stone floor. Her hands trembled against her lap and I could see fear fighting with grief inside her. She looked barely older than a girl. A survivor. Another soul who had walked into that mountain expecting battle and returned carrying loss.I looked at her.Then at the rose.Then at Marten.Then everything shattered again. The tears I had tried so desperately to hold back slipped free. One after another.Warm, unstoppable and painful. I lowered my head. I hated crying.I hated it because it made loss feel real. Maria was real to me, she had been so real to me, she had fixed my dresses, made sure I was stable, that I slept well and I bothered less. She had stood beside me during some of the darkest days of my life.And now she was gone.Gone.The word struck harder than any blade. I just couldn’t deal with the fact that her death was real.Marten's hand remained on my shoulder.Stea
LEAH DECKERMarten gave a very heartfelt heroic speech that was very timely to his people, and to me the journey back to Tombstone felt different after we passed through the gates.The battlefield was behind us.The bloodshed was behind us.The screams, the roars, the clash of steel and claws were behind us.Yet somehow they still lingered inside me.The kingdom welcomed us as heroes.The warriors were received with cheers. The wounded were guided toward healers. The dead were carried carefully toward the preparation grounds where they would be honored beneath the full moon before burial. Everywhere I looked, servants moved quickly.Families searched the crowd. Children ran toward returning fathers.Mothers cried.Wives embraced husbands.Brothers reunited.Yet not every reunion ended in joy.Not every face found the one it searched for. The price of victory was written across the kingdom.I sat quietly beside Marten as we entered the inner courtyard.The exhaustion from the battle had
LEAH DECKERIt had been an entire day since I stayed indoors.No training.No arguments with Marten.No tension hanging over my shoulders like chains tightening around my neck.For the first time in what felt like forever, my body rested.But my mind did not.The dream still haunted me.The witch.T
TIM HOUSTON“You will attend tonight’s celebration.”My mother’s voice carried the same calm authority it always did. The kind that sounded soft until one realized there was no room for refusal beneath it.I stood near the western balcony of Oakwood Hall, staring out at the forests stretching endles
TIM HOUSTONThe throne room of Oakwood had never felt like mine.Not truly.Even while sitting on the throne carved for generations of kings before me, I still felt it.The invisible chains.The watchful eyes.The control.The kingdom bowed when I entered. Warriors lowered their heads. Servants move
LEAH DECKERThe knock came softly.Too softly for a man like Marten.I opened my eyes slowly, my chest still rising heavily from the dream that had ripped through my sleep. My body felt damp with sweat beneath the blankets. My fingers trembled against the sheets while the witch’s words echoed endles







