MasukBlood and Moonlight
The next day was rain again. All day long. Evandra went out to hunt and came back to her hut with a small rabbit. She shifted outside of the hut and allowed Sage a moment to devour the rabbit. She couldn’t build a fire with everything being so wet and she knew she couldn’t eat the rabbit raw. Letting Sage it for them in her wolf form was the easiest way to go about it. Evandra couldn’t let herself starve. She needed her strength and energy.
The night came fast and it was heavy with silence. Too heavy.
It had finally stopped raining and the storm had passed, but the air still clung with dampness. She was able to dry out some wood. Evandra sat near the weak fire she had pieced together, coaxing it to life little by little. She listened—every crackle of flame, every shifting branch outside her hut—her body tense.
Then she caught it.
The scent. Bitter, foul, carrying rot and fury. Rogues.
Her blood iced. She stood, eyes darting toward the door. They were close, circling. She could hear the low growl of one, the answering snarl of another.
Sage, Evandra whispered inwardly. They’ve found us.
Her wolf surged forward, claws scratching against the inside of her skin. Then let me fight.
The first rogue lunged through the stick made doorway with a guttural snarl. Evandra didn’t think—she let go. Pain seared through her as bones cracked and skin split, fur bursting forth in silver-gray waves. She hit the earth on four legs, and Sage roared free.
The hut shattered around them as Sage leapt, jaws clamping down on the rogue’s throat. Hot blood sprayed the dirt, and the body collapsed.
Two more came at once. Sage’s teeth tore, her claws raked flesh, but they were vicious, desperate, half-mad. One caught her shoulder, ripping deep. Pain lanced through them both, but Sage only snarled, twisting to snap its spine. Another clawed at her flank, leaving fire in its wake. Sage spun, slamming her weight into him, biting down until the air stilled in his lungs.
Three corpses lay cooling in the clearing, blood staining the ground, their foul scent clinging to the air. Sage stood over them, panting, injured but unbroken.
Evandra surfaced faintly in her wolf’s mind, trembling with horror and awe. We killed them…
We survived, Sage corrected, blood dripping from her jaws. And we will again.
The next night, the howls rose again. Louder. Closer.
Sage paced restlessly inside her, every nerve alight. They’ve brought more. They want blood. There’s too many!
Evandra’s heart sank. She could not face another pack alone. Her wounds still burned, her strength barely restored. Yet the rogues came, their stench filling the night, their eyes glowing like sick fire beyond the trees.
There was no choice.
Run, Sage commanded. Run until the moon breaks.
Evandra shifted, the pain of her healing wounds flaring as Sage surged into control once more. They burst from the clearing, paws pounding the forest floor, breath ragged. Behind them, rogues chased, their howls rattling the night.
On and on they ran, through tangled roots and cold streams, across hills slick with dew. Evandra’s human mind screamed exhaustion, but Sage was relentless, driving them onward.
We cannot stop, Sage growled. Not until we are safe.
Hours blurred together until the scent of the rogues finally faded behind them. But another scent rose in its place—stronger, sharper. Wolf, but not rogue. The air was thick with it. Borders.
Stop, Evandra gasped inwardly. We can’t—
But Sage did not stop. Her paws carried them forward, beyond the invisible line that divided packs.
And then they broke through the tree line, collapsing in the open courtyard of a great stone estate, lit silver by the moon. Wolves stirred at the edges, sentries already growling, eyes blazing at the intruder who had stumbled onto their land.
The Melting Moon Pack.
Sage wavered, bleeding from the healing wound being torn open again in her shoulder made anew, her sides heaving. Evandra barely clung to consciousness inside her.
Enemy territory, Sage whispered weakly. But alive.
The last thing Evandra saw before darkness claimed her, was a massive white wolf stepping into her sight, his eyes almost glowing green, his growl echoing through the night.
Epilogue-Bound in BloodThe storm had passed hours ago, but the scent of rain still curled along the eaves of Crescent’s infirmary, clean and cool, like the world itself had drawn a breath and let it out. Night pressed its face to the windows, jeweled with lingering drops. Inside, lanterns burned low and golden, throwing a soft halo over the bed where I lay—damp hair at my temples, cheeks flushed, the heat of life still singing in my veins.I had done it.We had done it.Four small bundles lay in a cradle pulled close to my side, tucked in blankets the color of each pack’s crest—pine-green, night-black, hammered copper, and winter white. Four steady heartbeats, four new scents threading the air like ribbons of light. They had arrived in a rush of pain and wonder, of teeth grit and hands held, of prayers murmured to the Moon and promises pressed into skin. And now, in the quiet afterward, I watched them breathe.The first little Alpha slept beneath the copper blanket, a spill of downy
Reshape the FutureThe Crescent moon hung high and silver, bathing the packlands in soft light. Crescent wolves had worked tirelessly to rebuild what the attack had broken, and now their labor bore fruit. Lanterns lined the pathways, flowers draped over carved stone arches, and wolves in their finest stood shoulder to shoulder, their voices hushed with awe.Because tonight wasn’t just a wedding. It was rebirth.And I—Evandra, Luna to four—stood in the heart of Crescent’s great hall, my gown trailing like liquid light across the polished floor. The gown was stitched in white silk with threads of gold and green, Crescent colors woven together with pieces from every pack I now called my own. On my wrists glimmered bracelets gifted from Melting Moon and Pine Wood. Around my neck hung a pendant of amber and silver, a Crescent heirloom Balor had placed there himself.The music hushed. My heart thundered.At the far end of the hall, Balor waited. He looked impossibly strong, broad shoulders
BoundEvandraThe chamber shook around me, shadows crawling like serpents up the walls. The Mirror’s pulse hammered in my skull, each throb pulling at the strings of my bond until I thought they would snap.And Vera—her smile was wild, stretched thin, eyes bloodshot with hunger.“It’s mine now,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, too shrill, too eager. “All this power, centuries of domination, bound in glass. No wolf, no goddess will stop me.”The Mirror gleamed brighter, answering her greed. Its surface rippled like water, and in that ripple I saw faces—my mates, my unborn children, myself. A thousand selves: cruel, twisted, bleeding, laughing.Vera stepped closer, her fingers splayed. The air around her shimmered, bending inward. She wasn’t just touching it—she was pulling herself into it.“Stop!” My voice was raw, but the command rang with Luna steel. “Vera, you don’t understand. It doesn’t give—it takes. It’s not feeding you, it’s swallowing you whole.”She only laughed. “Better to
StrikeTristanThe crack of Lefu’s gunshot rang through the stairwell like a thunderclap, sharp and merciless. Draven Holt staggered once, his eyes wide and wild, before the fire left them. He slumped to the stone, blood pooling beneath him, dark and final.For a moment, everything stilled. Only the drip of his blood, only the faint pulse of the cursed chamber above us.I straightened, wiped my blade on his cloak, my jaw tight. My chest heaved, but my eyes stayed clear. “It’s done.”Balor’s voice cut in low. “Not yet. The witch is still alive. If she holds even a shard of that Mirror, she’ll be worse than him.”Osiris growled through his own wound, one hand pressed to his bleeding side. “Then we finish it.”Lefu chambered another round, his face as still as stone. “For her.”And as one, the four of us turned toward the last flight of stairs. Toward her.The chamber door loomed, shut against us from the instant we were cast out. I had never hated silence so much in my life. Not the sou
Chose HerEvandra The Mirror screamed. Not a sound, but a vibration that shattered stone, shaking the chamber to its bones. The reflection lunged against the glass, fists pounding, teeth bared, desperate to break free. But the glass held, cracks spiderwebbing across it.Vera shrieked, clutching her chest as though the power she had siphoned was tearing back through her veins. “No! No, this was mine!”I stood, legs trembling, but stronger than I’d ever been.“This was never yours,” I said, voice low, certain. “Not the Mirror. Not me. Not my bonds. And not my children.”The Mirror flared one last time, then shattered into a thousand shards, light pouring out like dawn.The reflection vanished with a scream that wasn’t mine.And I collapsed, my knees hitting stone, hands still clutching my stomach. The bond-threads surged back, golden, strong, wrapping me in warmth. My mates roared outside the chamber, their voices breaking through.I had chosen.Not vengeance. Not ambition.Love.The c
ReflectionThe sound of my Alphas straining against the Mirror’s power was the last tether I had before the world caved in. Their voices, their growls, the bond threads burning bright as they clung to me—it was all wrenched away in a single violent pull.“Enough,” Vera hissed, her arms lifted, hair flying wild in the storm of power. The Mirror pulsed in behind her, a living heart that throbbed black fire. “This is her trial, not yours.”The floor beneath us rippled, an earthquake of magic, and my mates—my four pillars—were flung back as though the air itself rejected them. They skidded across stone, weapons clattering from their hands. Tristan roared, lunging, but an invisible wall slammed down, sealing him from me.“No!” I screamed, reaching for him, but the barrier shimmered between us.Osiris threw himself at it, fists hammering over and over again until his knuckles bled, as relentless as he was, but he couldn’t break through. Lefu’s eyes almost seem to glow with power as he mutte







