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MOON OF TRUTH
Last Updated:
2025-05-20 21:04:31
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THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE THE MORNING AFTER
The first sensation was cold.Not the kind that crept in through the windows or settled in bones, but the sort that numbed the soul—the kind that whispered something had shifted. Something had broken. Veyra stirred, lashes fluttering against pale cheeks damp with sweat. Her breath stuttered. Her skin felt too tight, her body sore like she had run for miles without stopping. The world tilted when she tried to sit up.Then came the blood.A warm trickle slid from her nose, slipping down to her upper lip, and she tasted copper. Her hand trembled as she reached up to touch it, fingertips coming away stained crimson. A soft groan left her lips, one of disorientation and pain.She was alone.The room was still—too still. Shadows clung to the corners like memories, and a strange silence hung over the house like mourning. The fire in the hearth had long since gone out, but the ashes still smoked faintly. The ache in her chest wasn't just physical; it was something else, a tearing that hadn't
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE THE BINDING RITE
The blood moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie crimson glow over Moonfang's sacred clearing. The trees stood like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches trembling under a wind that whispered secrets only the old gods remembered. The earth itself felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for what was to come.Veyra stood barefoot in the center of a circle carved into the soil with salt, ash, and blood—her own. Maelin had drawn the sigils hours ago, her fingers shaking despite a century of practiced calm. No light save for the moon and a ring of flickering torches lit the circle, casting shadows that danced like phantoms across the faces of the five men standing just beyond the boundary.Rune. Lioren. Zevi. Kael. Zarek.Each of them had a piece of her. Each of them was tied to her through the sacred, terrifying pull of the Fifth Bond. And tonight, under the cursed blood moon, they would be tested in the Trial of Veils—a rite so ancient and forbidden, even Maelin had whispe
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE UNHOLY MARK
The morning mist curled low over the edges of Moonfang's forest, hiding the treeline like the breath of some ancient god. But nothing about the serenity of dawn could prepare Veyra for what they found carved into the old oak near her family's cottage."The White Wolf must die."The words were deep, gouged by claws or a blade, raw and red with sap. The bark bled as though the tree itself wept for the message it carried.Jon stood guard beside it, his fists clenched at his sides, jaw rigid. His usual calm was fractured. Elias, not far behind, examined the wound in the wood with a silence that spoke volumes. But it was Maelin's low gasp, hand trembling over her heart, that sent a ripple of dread through the group."They've marked her," she said softly. "The Order knows. Not just rumor, not suspicion. They know."Zarek appeared behind them without a sound, eyes like dark storms narrowing on the carved threat. His body went rigid, a fury simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. He
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE MOON OF TRUTH
The fever came three days after the shift.It started as a tremble in Veyra's fingertips. Subtle at first, a quiver she brushed off as exhaustion. But by nightfall, her body was burning from the inside out, heat radiating through her bones like fire ignited in marrow. Her limbs ached as if she'd run for days without pause. Her skin gleamed with sweat despite the cold air of the mountains. And her heartbeat—gods, her heartbeat—it thundered, like it wanted to escape her chest.She barely spoke. She barely moved.Zarek never left her side.He sat beside her bed, sometimes holding her hand when she could bear the touch. Other times, he just watched her. Eyes dark. Unreadable. Fierce. The others came and went—Rune with herbs, Zevi with whispers, Kael with concern he couldn't hide, and Lioren with clenched jaws and a restless pacing in the halls. But none of them stayed like Zarek. None of them hovered close enough to feel her breath falter in her sleep. None dared risk her pain.Only Zarek
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE MARKED BY THE ORDER
A storm rolled in with the dusk—slow, ominous, and thick with tension that pressed down on the Moonfang territory like a vice. The sky darkened in shades of gray and purple, distant thunder rumbling as if the world itself were bracing for what was to come.Veyra stood by the edge of the ridge overlooking the valley, her white hair tousled by the wind. She hadn't spoken since her shift—the first full transformation into her true white wolf form had left her more than physically changed. Something inside her had awakened, ancient and powerful. It coiled beneath her skin like electricity, humming in tune with the storm.Her five mates lingered nearby, each of them unsettled in his own way. They had all witnessed her transformation. They had all felt the tremor of the earth and the pulse of raw, primal power when her paws struck the ground for the first time.But none of them could sense what she did now—the impending doom creeping closer like the long shadow of death.Behind her, the doo
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE VEYRA’s AWAKENING
The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as Veyra stood at the center of the clearing, surrounded by her five mates. The moonlight bathed the forest in a silver glow, casting long shadows on the earth beneath their feet. Tonight was the night—the moment she had been both dreading and longing for.Zarek stood closest to her, his powerful presence a comforting anchor amidst the uncertainty swirling around them. Kael, ever the silent observer, stood to her left, his intense gaze fixed on her every movement. Lioren, Rune, and Zevi stood further back, eyes locked on her with equal parts concern and curiosity. Each of them was waiting for the same thing: for Veyra to fulfill her destiny.Veyra's heart pounded in her chest, her body trembling as the overwhelming weight of the moment pressed upon her. The five mates, the bond that connected them, the prophecy—they were all tied together by a force beyond her understanding. But now, in this clearing beneath the full moon, she
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE BURIED SCARS, SHARED STORMS
The scent of burning sage lingered in the wind, curling softly through the Moonfang woods as dusk painted the sky in shades of indigo and bruised crimson. Though the sickness had begun to wane—halted, for now, by the healers' relentless efforts and Maelin's ancient remedies—unease hung thick in the air. Veyra stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the horizon with narrowed eyes, arms folded against her chest. The wolves around her had begun to stir again, the worst of the fever broken, but the questions remained, clawing at the back of her mind.She had caused this. Or at least, her bond had. The fifth bond. Zarek's bond.Guilt had rooted itself deep inside her bones, but she hadn't let it show. Not when the young collapsed in spasms. Not when the elders whispered of curses, dark omens, and fated ruin. Not even when Elias had pulled her aside in private, his expression unreadable, his silence louder than anything he could've said.Now, with the sickness subdued—if only temporaril
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE A RATTLE IN THE VEIN
It started with a tremor—one so small Veyra almost ignored it. The Moonfang healer's apprentice collapsed in the early morning hours, her breath shallow, her skin clammy, her wolf silent. No scent of poison, no hint of infection. Just a deep, gnawing stillness that stretched into the earth itself.Then the next fell—an elder wolf, one who had brushed against Veyra in passing days ago, when she returned from the ancient temple.By midday, seven wolves were sick.They all had one thing in common: each of them had come near Veyra since her return.She stood at the window of her room, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, staring at the stretch of forest beyond the house. Her wolf stirred uneasily, more restless than ever, as if pacing behind her ribs. The wind brought no answers. Only whispers.Downstairs, voices rose in urgent, heated tones. Elias had summoned the pack's most trusted healers, and Zarek stood outside like a stone sentinel, his presence unshakable, his gaze dark as the s
THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE WHISPERS FROM THE COVEN
Days had passed since the journey to the ancient temple, yet the echoes of what had transpired lingered like shadows at the corners of Veyra's mind. The air in the Moonfang territory felt heavier now, charged with something that had no name but made her bones restless. Her mates were quieter, too, subdued after the near-violent clash that had marked the temple's end. Zarek and Kael no longer spoke unless necessary. Lioren kept his distance. Rune observed more than he engaged, and Zevi—sweet, soft-hearted Zevi—tried to patch the silence with light conversation and hesitant smiles.But Veyra? Veyra was still listening to the wind.It came at dawn, the letter. Not carried by a raven or sent with a scout—no, it appeared like a whisper at the doorstep. A scroll, old and curled, sealed in wax that shimmered faintly silver under the morning sun. Elias was the one who found it. He had stepped outside just before breakfast, a mug of bitterroot tea in hand, and returned moments later, his brow
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