LOGINElise woke before dawn with the taste of salt in her mouth and a pressure in her chest that made it hard to breathe.She lay still for a long moment, listening to the quiet around her. The fishing village was asleep, wrapped in the low hum of night insects and the distant, steady rhythm of the sea. It should have been comforting. Instead, it felt like waiting. Like the world was holding its breath.She pushed herself upright, rubbing her palms together slowly. They felt warm. Warmer than they should have been.“That again,” she murmured.Since the storm, her body had stopped behaving like it used to. Heat pooled under her skin when her emotions spiked. Water responded when she touched it. Dreams lingered too long after she woke, leaving her shaken and restless.And lately, there had been a pull.Not hunger. Not fear.Direction.Elise stood, pulling on a cloak and stepping outside before she could second-guess herself. The air was cool, the sky still dark, moonlight thinning as morning
Kai did not like meetings held behind closed doors.They always meant one thing: fear had finally outweighed loyalty.The chamber was small, tucked far from the main Council hall, lit only by a single brazier that cast uneven shadows against the stone walls. Kai stood near the window with his hands clasped behind his back, posture straight, expression unreadable. From the outside, anyone would think he was calm.Inside, he felt like a wire pulled too tight.Across the table sat Councilor Hadrien and Councilor Mave—both older wolves, both seasoned enough to know when power was beginning to rot. They had requested this meeting quietly, carefully, the kind of request that carried risk just by existing.Hadrien cleared his throat. “Thank you for coming, Alpha.”Kai didn’t turn. “Say what you asked me here to hear.”Mave exchanged a glance with Hadrien before speaking. “It’s about Lady Everglade.”Kai’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.“She is Luna now,” Kai said evenly. “If this is abo
Elise arrived at the lakeside village just before dusk, when the sky was bruised purple and the water reflected the clouds like a broken mirror. She had not meant to stop.She rarely did.Since leaving the coast, she had learned that stopping was dangerous. Every place she lingered too long gathered stories around her like flies—whispers, stares, questions she could not answer. People noticed things. The way the wind bent when she walked. The way water leaned toward her hands as if listening. The way wounds closed too quickly beneath her touch.But this village did not give her the chance to keep moving.The smell of sickness reached her before the first houses did—rot and iron and something sharper beneath it, something wrong. Moon-poison.She knew it the moment she felt it prickle along her skin.Elise slowed, fingers curling at her side. The lake before the village was wide and unnaturally still, its surface faintly luminous even without moonlight. The water carried the same wrongn
Becky Everglade woke screaming.The sound tore out of her throat before she could stop it, raw and sharp, echoing off the stone walls of her chamber. Her body jerked upright in bed, lungs burning, fingers clawing at silk sheets as though they were water dragging her down.For a moment, she didn’t know where she was.Then the scent of incense hit her nose—lavender and myrrh, too heavy, too carefully chosen—and the familiar weight of the palace settled back over her. High ceilings. Gold-inlaid pillars. Curtains thick enough to block the moon itself.Her room.Her throne-adjacent sanctuary.Her prison.Becky pressed a shaking hand to her chest, heart hammering so violently it hurt. Sweat soaked her nightclothes, plastering fabric to her skin. She sucked in air again and again, trying to force her breathing into something resembling calm.It had been another drowning dream.It always was now.The sea closing over her head. Cold filling her mouth. Her limbs growing heavy as something unsee
The village should not have been silent.That was the first thing Kai noticed as his horse slowed near the shoreline.Coastal villages were never quiet—not truly. Even at dawn, there were always sounds: gulls fighting over scraps, fishermen arguing as they hauled nets, children running barefoot through wet sand. Life clung stubbornly to places like this.But here, there was nothing.No voices.No smoke from hearths.No boats pulled in from the tide.Kai dismounted slowly, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword as his boots sank slightly into damp sand. A thin mist rolled in from the sea, low and heavy, curling around abandoned huts like fingers searching for warmth.“Clear the perimeter,” he said quietly.The warriors behind him obeyed without question, spreading out in practiced formation. Their armor made no noise. Even the wolves felt it—the wrongness—ears flattened, movements tense.Kai walked forward alone.The first hut had its door hanging open, swaying gently with the breez
Elise had learned to recognize the sound of fear long before people ever spoke it.It wasn’t screaming—not at first. It was the way footsteps broke rhythm, the way breath came too fast, the way silence stretched just a second too long before someone finally ran.She heard it from the tree line as she was filling her flask.The stream curved gently through the marshland, shallow and clear, its surface barely disturbed except where her fingers dipped into it. Morning light reflected off the water in pale ripples. For a brief moment, everything felt still.Then a shout tore through the air.“Elise!”She turned sharply.One of the fishermen’s sons—Taro—came crashing through the reeds, face white, eyes wild. He nearly tripped at her feet.“They need you,” he gasped. “The hunters. Something attacked them near the old quarry. It—it wasn’t right.”Elise was already moving. “How many?”“Four. Maybe five. One of them’s bleeding bad. It burned him when it touched him.”Burned.Her jaw tightened.







