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ECHOES OF A CURSE

Author: Ana belle
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-28 03:34:27

The full moon hovered like a glowing sentinel above the Moonfang Pack's territory, casting a silver sheen across the sacred grounds nestled deep within the woods. The trees swayed with a ghostly hush as if whispering secrets to the stars. The air buzzed with anticipation—an unspoken energy that crackled beneath the solemn stillness of the ritual night.

Veyra stood cloaked in the crowd, heart pounding, her eyes trained on the flickering fire at the center of the moon-circle. Though she wore a hood that shadowed her features, she could feel the weight of unseen eyes—some curious, some cautious, and one pair...watchful in a way that made her skin prickle.

She didn't belong here. Not in the open. Not where whispers could catch fire.

But tonight wasn't about her—it was about tradition. The full moon ritual was sacred to all packs. A time of renewal, blessing, and balance. It was one of the few events where even the isolated Moonfang allowed outsiders to enter the fold—under tight supervisi
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  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   A TASTE OF DEATH

    The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon when the ambush came. A sudden rush of movement broke the evening calm, a blur of bodies descending from the trees, arrows flying through the air, and the unmistakable sounds of battle. Veyra's instincts kicked in immediately as she unsheathed her dagger, the cold steel glinting under the fading light.Rune was at her side, as always, but this time the attack was more coordinated, more ruthless. The Order had come for them—again.Veyra's heart raced as she fought back, her senses heightened. She could feel the energy of the forest around her, the pulse of every living thing. It was in moments like these, with adrenaline surging through her veins, that her powers felt most alive. She moved swiftly, her body in perfect synchronization with her blade. Every strike, every twist, was deadly.But then she heard it—the unmistakable sound of Rune's pained grunt. Her heart stopped.She turned to find him stumbling, one hand pressed against his si

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   A BROTHER’s PROMISE

    The stars hung low that night—fat with silver, bleeding light through the clouds like soft whispers of things yet to come. The wind carried the scent of ash and pine, the memory of what they'd seen in the Temple of Bone still clinging to Veyra's skin like cold fog. She hadn't spoken since they returned, not beyond the necessary words, not beyond the commands required to hold her spine upright.She walked barefoot through the high grass of Nightveil's edge, the fortress walls a soft hum behind her. Her cloak, woven of moon-touched wool and battle-worn resolve, dragged slightly at her heels as she climbed the narrow path toward the overlook above the northern ridge. A place she hadn't come to in years. Not since she was a girl with simpler fears.Jon was already there.He sat cross-legged on a flat stone outcrop, his cloak slung around his shoulders, his arms propped on his knees, eyes lost in the sky. He turned when she approached, the corner of his mouth lifting, but he said nothing.

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   THE TEMPLE OF BONE

    The forest around the Temple was unnaturally quiet. No rustling leaves. No hooting owls. Even the crickets had fallen silent. The air itself felt thick, like it resisted every breath Veyra took. Shadows stretched longer here, clinging to bark and stone as if afraid of what lay beneath the surface.Veyra crouched behind a thorned bush, eyes scanning the ancient stone façade half-buried in moss and time. The entrance to the Order's temple yawned like a wound in the earth—jagged, crooked, and cold.Jon stood beside her, blade strapped to his back, face expressionless but alert. Zevi was on her other side, fingers twitching with nervous energy, his usual humor absent. Lioren crouched just behind them, hand already pressed to the dirt, drawing strength from the earth itself."This is it," Jon said quietly. "The Temple of Bone.""How fitting," Zevi muttered, brushing a web from his shoulder."No jokes," Lioren warned, voice low. "Not here."Veyra nodded. "We go in silent. We get what we cam

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   KISSES AND RAGE

    The training arena echoed with the heavy thud of fists meeting flesh, the sharp crack of bone colliding with bone. Dust swirled with each violent step, kicked up from the ground beneath Rune and Zarek's boots. The others had backed off hours ago, but the tension between the two dominant wolves had only grown."You think you can control her?" Rune snarled, circling the older Alpha. His usually composed expression was twisted with fury. "You think your title makes you more to her than the rest of us?"Zarek's chest heaved. "I don't need a title to know what we are. She's mine.""Yours?" Rune spat, baring his teeth. "You want to own her? She's not some territory you can mark and guard like a savage."Zarek lunged, fists flying. The impact rang out, echoing across the silent onlookers from the surrounding corridors. Rune staggered back but recovered swiftly, launching his own blow. The two collided like storms—Alpha and Beta, hearts aflame with jealousy, pain, love.In the distance, Veyra

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   KAEL’s REPENTANCE

    The shadows clung to the stone courtyard long after dusk had fallen. The fortress was quiet, unusually so, the kind of hush that came before a storm—not of wind or weather, but of emotion, of reckoning. Veyra stood by the balcony overlooking the outer gates, her cloak pulled tight around her shoulders, her thoughts heavier than the storm-thickened air.She had felt it before he even crossed the threshold.A ripple in her chest. Not the hum of a mate bond, not the fire of danger—something colder. Regret. Memory. A familiar pain that hadn't dulled with time, only sharpened into a jagged scar.Kael.When the guards escorted him into the great hall, she didn't move from her place. She simply watched. He had the same golden hair, though it was now tangled and dirt-dulled. The same proud jaw, set tight with something like guilt. And those eyes—wolf amber—searched for her the moment he stepped inside.Jon flanked her within seconds, protective and unmoved."He shouldn't be here," he growled

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   THE SIXTH LOOMS

    Veyra's sleep was restless that night, tangled in the web of dreams. As always, they were dark and cryptic, a reflection of the chaos that stirred inside her. Her body was still, but her mind raced, locked in an endless dance of shadows and light. The familiar sensation of a presence far more powerful than anything she had encountered before lingered in the dream, like a weight on her chest.The image was clear—a pair of eyes, silver flames flickering at the edges, burning through her thoughts. A voice, like cracked stone, whispered to her, "The chains are breaking."Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to reach out, to make sense of the words, but the voice faded before she could speak. And with it, the eyes vanished, leaving her in the oppressive silence of the night.Veyra woke with a start, her pulse racing. Sweat clung to her skin, and she gasped for air, the remnants of the dream lingering like a bitter taste on her tongue.The moonlight filtered through the open window, c

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