LOGINCIARAN
The palace of Eerin Hall reeked of old magic and even older lies.
The stench of both permeated the air the moment I stepped out of my black vehicle and onto the moonstone path to the Hall of Accord.
Even the skies above EerinHall were deceitful—too still and clear.
The last time the stars shone this brightly, war followed within weeks.
"Do you feel that?" Liam said, his voice quiet beside me.
“Magic," I growled, my jaw tightening. My wolf had always been restless around magic. "It’s tightly coiled around here."
He nodded curtly and adjusted his cufflinks. I didn't comment on how tense his shoulders were. The Blood Moon Pack were a people known for not showing emotion or flinching, not even before the Council.
We stepped into the massive hall, where glass domes reflected the moonlight like crystal claws, and the walls shimmered with illusions of the ancient wars.
The long table gleamed—black wood, carved from a cursed tree that was said to have been blessed by the blood god, Aioder. The other six chairs surrounding it were already occupied.
"Alpha Ciaran," said a dry, feminine voice. It was Amyra, the vampire queen. Her cold and calculating red eyes locked onto mine with amusement.
"Countess Amyra." I bowed my head slightly, taking a seat at the table.
Across from me, Zolaiah grunted in acknowledgement. The ogre king didn’t like formalities. His tusks jutted out from chapped lips, and his enormous bulk made his chair creak under him.
"Let us begin," Rune Elarion, Princess Regent of the Bleeding Throne, said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
She stood at the head of the table, her copper hair braided back, the circlet above her head burning with starfire. Rune was beautiful, but as deadly as any of us sitting here.
“Who will go first?” she said, finally taking her seat.
“I’ll start,” Amyra offered, her blood-red lips curving into a smile. “Three more covens have gone dark this month. It seems the witches are vanishing. Not running but vanishing. They leave no trace, no blood and no magic signature behind.”
“Then who is stealing them?” Aludria, the naga priestess, hissed, her tail coiled beneath her, as she narrowed her eyes at the glowing scrolls laid out before us.
“Exactly what we’re here to discuss,” Rune said. “The supernatural realm is unravelling.”
“The barriers weaken,” Oleus, the silver-haired high elf, said, finally looking up. “I felt the Earth pulse beneath the veil. Something larger than what we can handle is coming.” He took the cup placed in front of him and poured himself another cup of wine before taking a sip.
Zolaiah struck his chest with a fist. "Bring it on. We’ll face it head-on."
"Do you think this is a fight you can crush with fists?" Daryus said, his eyes now open, molten and unfathomable. He had been unnaturally still when we first arrived, his golden scales glinting faintly at the corner of his temples. "These are not brawn beasts. This is old, deep, and forbidden."
“And what of the sicknesses?” Liam asked, speaking up for the first time. “Border packs are reporting fevers that no healing rune can rectify. Wolves are turning savage, and their minds are breaking.”
“That’s not a sickness,” Aludria said. “That’s a possession. Someone is using their bodies as a vessel.”
Rhidian, the merman ambassador, thin-faced and smelling of sea salt, dropped the goblet he held and leaned forward, his gaze serious now. “Our waters have gone cold. Sirens are losing their voices. My people are becoming feral, and I’ve lost two of my bloodline already.”
"That's impossible," Amyra said, her laugh devoid of humour. "Sirens don't lose their voices."
"They do now," he snarled.
Rune's face remained calm, but her voice dropped a notch. "We're dealing with something organised. And ancient."
"Or," Oleus said smoothly, taking another sip of his wine, "someone is working the strings from behind the curtain, and we are the puppets."
That was when I finally spoke.
"Enough speculation," I said, my voice carrying through the room. There was silence around the table. Even Amyra's smile died.
They listened when I spoke, not because I was the oldest or wisest ,but because I was least afraid to spill blood if offended. Not even Zoliah could take me when I was crossed.
"You want theories, I'll give you one," I continued. "Something buried is waking. Something even our ancestors feared. And while we squabble over what to call it, it continues to spread. Eats the land and twists into something horrifying."
"You're suggesting what?" Amyra asked. "War? Do you think we’re ready for that?
“I’m not suggesting war,” I replied. "Not yet, at least. I'm saying we stop pretending this is a threat that can be easily contained. I'm saying it's time we stop the secrets."
Rune's eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary.
"There was a prophecy," she spoke slowly. "Centuries ago. Of a girl born of moon and silence. One who would free… and destroy."
For an unexplainable reason, my heart skipped a beat. I ignored the organ.
"I have never heard of such a prophecy," Daryus said.
"Because it was buried," Rune replied. "To keep the realm from destroying itself. The child it spoke of vanished before the century turned."
"And you think this involves her?" Rhidian asked.
"I think," Rune said softly, "we're standing on a time bomb."
The room churned with power. Amyra's cup broke in her hand. Aludria coiled tighter, and Zolaiah growled.
I stood.
"I'm done here," I said.
"Sit down, Alpha," Oleus said coldly.
I locked eyes with him. "Make me."
Tension snapped like a whip in the room. I could feel the force of his power bleeding from across the table..
"Enough," Rune growled. "All of you."
I didn't return to my seat. I walked away from the room after giving Rune a slight bow.
Liam trailed silently behind me until we were far from the great hall.
"You okay?" he asked.
"No," I growled. "Someone's lying."
Liam's eyebrow rose. "Who do you think it is?" he asks.
"All of them."
We descended the stairs in silence.
I knew something was coming, something that felt awfully wrong.
And I'd be damned if I didn't find out what it was before it reached me first.
ELEANORBy nightfall, the courtyard was alive with activity.Maids and guards strolled in and out, preparing the group for the journey.To me, this gala was just another cold place where powerful people decided my fate. I didn’t belong. I hadn’t belonged anywhere for a long time.I had grown up in the dirt, an orphan shifted from one bad house to another. Even now, in this expensive dress, I felt like a stray cat someone had taken home and tried to love.I stood by the carriage, my fingers twisting the silk of my skirt. The midnight blue fabric felt beautiful against my skin, and yet I didn't feel like I deserved to wear it.Every time I sensed Ciaran looking at me, I fixed my gaze on the gravel.Once, I dared to peek up, hoping to see a trace of the man who had touched me so gently in my room, whose lips entwined with mine had set my whole body on fire.But the moment our eyes met, I flinched away. He was a wall of ice again, no trace of the man who had looked at me with desire and p
ELEANORA knock at the door startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not after the way Ciaran had stormed out earlier.A young maid entered, carrying a large, flat box wrapped in silk. She laid it on my bed with a wide smile and hurried out, only to return with two other girls."For you, Eleanor," she whispered, her eyes bright with excitement.They helped me open it, and I gasped. Nestled inside was a dress made of deep, midnight-blue silk.It was beautiful, more beautiful than anything I’d ever touched, let alone owned.For a girl who had spent her life in hand-me-down rags and rough, worn-out Omega tunics, this felt like a dream."Put it on! Please!" one of the maids chirped.I stripped off my old clothes and stepped into the silk. It felt like cool water against my skin.Once it was settled, I couldn’t help myself; I twirled.The skirt flared out in a perfect circle, looking incredibly luxurious.The maids clapped, their faces glowing with a genuine joy that made me fe
CIARANDylan looked between us, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face.He knew exactly what he was doing. He patted my shoulder, a little too hard, and stepped toward the door."Right then," he said, his voice dripping with amusement."I’m going to go. Try not to kill each other—or, you know…" He trailed off, chuckling as he turned around to leave.The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was worse than the shouting. I didn't move from the doorway. I just watched her.Eleanor was standing by the edge of the bed, her head down, her fingers twitching at her sides.She looked small, but after what I’d seen in the garden, I knew she wasn't. She was a tornado wrapped in a small frame, waiting to explode.Suddenly, the air in the room grew tense. I could hear the frantic rise and fall of her heartbeat. Her scent was potent like never before.There was a mix of something different, something that stirred my wolf inside of me. The scent of her arousal.My wolf purred. I
ELEANORThe stone floor of the Great Hall was cold beneath my feet.Ciaran had been obsessed with my lineage and origin since we got back from the Siren Kingdom, and I couldn’t blame him.I was curious, too. I had been losing my mind trying to come up with explanations for how I had managed to grow the lilies out of nowhere, not to mention all the other things that had happened to me that I didn’t have explanations for.Today, he was looking for answers. He’d brought in a high witch, a woman named Mother Vane.She looked like a bird of prey, draped in heavy, oil-slicked black feathers and smelling of bitter herbs.She didn't speak; she just rattled a bowl of jagged obsidian crystals as she staggered in.Her eyes were as white as the long frizzy hair on her head. She was bent over and too frail, it was a miracle she was able to walk without dropping to the ground."Sit," Ciaran commanded. His voice was tight. I sat on the stool he’d placed in the center of the room.Across the hall, Dy
ELEANORI woke up feeling different.For the first time since the Siren Kingdom, the heavy, burning weight in my chest had eased.My limbs didn’t feel like stone anymore. I actually wanted to move.I got out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold wood floors.I didn't want to sit by the window and watch the world move without me; I wanted to be in it.I pulled a thick knit shawl over my nightgown and stepped out into the hallway.The Packhouse was massive, all dark stone and high ceilings.I walked slowly, my hand trailing along the wall. I just wanted to see where I was living.But as I rounded a corner near the great hall, I heard voices coming from behind a slightly jarred door.The voice was masculine and sounded familiar.I stopped. My heart gave a little thud against my ribs. It was Ciaran."How is she today?" he asked. He sounded tired, but there was an edge of concern in his voice that made my breath hitch. "The healer said the tonic should be finished. Is she regaining her str
CIARAN The shadow retreated just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me cold and trembling.I let Rhidian go. He slumped against the wall, gasping and clutching his throat.There were red marks across his neck, stark evidence of how hard I had held him.I didn’t care if he lived; I only cared about one thing: the girl standing in the doorway.Eleanor looked like a ghost. She was swaying, her small hands turning white as she gripped the stone frame.I moved toward her, my boots crunching on Alluvia’s broken ribs.My eyes were still aflame. I expected her to run, expected her to see the monster in my gaze and finally, rightfully, scream.I wouldn't have blamed her if she did.But she didn’t move. She just watched me.Her eyes were steady, reflecting the carnage I’d wrought without a single flicker of judgment in those grey depths.It was terrifying.“Eleanor,” my voice was raspy.She took one step, then another, before her legs gave out.I caught her before she hit the floor. She wa







