MasukPlease continue to follow me into the dark. š¤First, I want to say thank you.Whether you found me through one of my books, stumbled across my author page somewhere online, followed one of my slightly chaotic social media posts, or somehow ended up here on Goodreads wondering what exactly you got yourself into, Iām glad youāre here.Being an indie author is a strange little adventure. There is the writing, editing, rewriting, formatting, cover decisions, publishing, marketing, and occasionally staring at a manuscript wondering why I thought any of this was a good idea. š But then someone reads one of my stories, tells me a scene creeped them out, asks when another book is coming, or simply recommends my work to someone elseāand suddenly all of the chaos feels completely worth it.If youād like to keep following the journey outside of Goodreads, you can find me here:š¬ TikTok: @_ljfaulkneršø Instagram: @author_ljfaulknerš Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/author/ljfaulknerš¤ Offici
Mira ran to Damien.The hall inhaled around it.Then exhaled belief.Not full belief.Not clean belief.But enough.Enough for wolves to whisper.Enough for Thorncrest loyalists to look satisfied.Enough for frightened servants to lower their eyes.Enough for the story to shift under my feet.The child chose the Alpha.The blood witch frightened her.Damien held Mira carefully against his chest, one hand resting on the back of her head. The gesture was perfect. Protective. Fatherly. Gentle enough to make half the room forget he had ordered chains onto her wrists minutes ago.I did not forget.Neither did Miraās body.Her hands were fisted in his coat, but her shoulders shook like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. She did not look comforted.She looked cornered in the safest place she knew.That distinction mattered.But would the hall understand it?Maybe not.Damien looked down at her with warm sorrow.āMy poor girl.āSelene stood near the fallen chains, her expression soft and
Damien asked me to begin with death.Of course he did.He made it sound like law.Like courtesy.Like challenge order.But I knew him.He wanted spectacle.He wanted the hall to watch me crack open my own wound and bleed testimony across the same black marble where he had killed me.He wanted the wolves to hear my story from my shaking mouth so he could tilt his head, soften his eyes, and make my truth look like trauma.The white gown waited beside him.Mira stood near Selene, chained and crying sile
Mira pointed at me with shaking hands.“She is the one. She is the witch. She is why they hurt me.”The hall erupted.Not into chaos.Worse.Into belief.I saw it happen across their faces, one wolf at a time.Mira was fourteen. Maybe fifteen. Small in a white dress, wrists chained, eyes swollen from crying, voice breaking around fear.And I stood in the center of Thorncrest Hall with a blood-marked palm, Brackenhold and Graymere witnesses at my back, and stories of death and old magic wrapped around me like smoke.Damien had not bro
Thorncrest Hall had not changed.That was the cruelty of it.Part of me had expected the room to look different now that I remembered dying in it. Smaller maybe. Less polished. Less powerful once the truth was stripped from the ceremony.It did not.The black marble still shone like frozen water. Silver chandeliers still hung from the vaulted ceiling, each flame caught in crystal and multiplied until the whole hall glittered with cold light. Crimson banners fell from the balconies. Thorncrest wolves filled every level, dressed in formal black and silver, their faces turned toward me with hunger, contempt, curiosity, and fear.The room smelled of roses.Not real ones.
Sera shoved the blue-gray cloak into my hands.“Change. Now.”I looked at the cloak.Plain wool. Dark blue threaded with gray. No silver trim. No ceremonial stitching. No crownwork. No white silk.Human witness colors.Not queen.Not witch.Not Luna.Witness.I gripped the fabric tighter.Beyond the ridge, Thorncrest horns sounded again.Closer this time.The patrol was moving fast.
The darkness had weight.It did not fall over the camp like night.Night was natural. Night belonged to the sky. Night had stars, wind, the familiar scrape of branches, the comfort of knowing dawn would eventually come whether anyone survived to see it or not.This was different.This darkness drop
Cassian stood between us and the wolves like the dark had sent him to collect a debt.The fireline roared behind him, hissing every time snow fell into the flames. Orange light snapped across the clearing, catching on wet teeth, black fur, and the dead wolf at Eliās feet with my knife buried deep i
Damien Thorncroftās hand closed around mine.Warm.Firm.Possessive.The same hand that had wrapped around my throat while the whole pack watched.The same hand that had held mine around that black blade, forcing my fingers to understand the shape of my own destruction.For one awful second, my bod
The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not peace. Not reverence. Silence. The kind that came before a blade touched skin. It stretched across the great hall of Thorncrest Keep, crawling over the black marble floor, climbing the stone pillars, curling around the wolves gathered shoulder to







