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Between Life and Death
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2026-02-11 16:38:02
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The Luna’s Revenge Between Life and Death
The clearing was heavy with silence after that twitch of Theron’s hand. Nyx’s heart still raced, torn between hope and dread. She held onto his fingers like a lifeline, whispering, “Stay with me. Please.” Caelum shifted behind her, eyes sharp as he scanned the trees. The tension in his posture made it clear, he half-expected an ambush even now. But then something caught the faint moonlight, a soft gleam nestled among the dirt and broken branches. “Nyx,” Caelum muttered, pointing. Not far from where Theron lay, half-buried in the earth, a faintly glowing crest pulsed with light. Its surface shimmered as though alive, veins of emerald running through it like lightning trapped in stone. Nyx’s breath caught. The Emerald Crest. For a moment she hesitated. Its glow felt ancient, otherworldly, as if it pulsed in rhythm with the forest itself. She could almost hear a hum in her bones, like it was calling her. Her gaze flicked back to Theron’s battered body, then to the crest. Something
The Luna’s Revenge The missing Alpha
The battlefield had gone quiet, but the silence was not peace. The ground was slick with blood, the air heavy with smoke and the stench of iron. Warriors stumbled back toward the center, some limping, some carrying the fallen. A few wolves still prowled the edges, making sure no rogue had survived the slaughter. Nyx wiped her hands on the hem of her torn dress, her satchel nearly empty after tending wound after wound. She should have felt relief, but a knot of dread twisted tighter in her stomach with every passing breath. Where was Theron? Her eyes searched the faces of the returning fighters, desperate to see him, golden-eyed and unshaken. But he wasn’t among them. Panic clawed up her throat. She whirled, catching sight of Caelum. The Beta’s dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, his chest heaving as he surveyed the field. Then she saw it, the way his expression shifted. He was scanning, searching. And the longer he looked, the harder his jaw clenched. “He’s not h
The Luna’s Revenge The White Light
The battlefield was chaos, but within it Theron was a storm all his own. Blood slicked his arms, coating the claws that had half-formed where his hands used to be. His chest heaved, each breath a jagged rasp of fury and sickness. The poison that had once nearly killed him still clung to his veins, burning faintly beneath his skin, but his will alone kept him upright. He is the Alpha. He could not fall. A rogue lunged at him from the left, jaws snapping, foam flecking its muzzle. Theron did not flinch. He stepped into the beast’s charge, seized its throat with one clawed hand, and crushed until bone splintered. The wolf choked, gurgling, then went limp as he flung the carcass aside like it weighed nothing. Already another came at him, but Theron pivoted, using his momentum to drive an elbow into its jaw. The crack echoed above the roar of the battle, and the rogue’s head snapped back before Theron’s claws tore across its chest, spilling it open. Every movement
The Luna’s Revenge Blood and Oath
The battlefield was alive with chaos. The air reeked of blood, sweat, and the sharp metallic sting of iron. Wolves clashed against rogues in violent bursts of fur and steel, the ground already slick beneath their paws. “Stay with the Luna!” a warrior barked, shoving Nyx back behind the protective circle. Luna. The word struck her again, heavier than any blade. She hadn’t earned it, hadn’t claimed it, yet it wrapped around her like a mantle she couldn’t shake. Theron’s roar split the air, a sound so feral it made even the rogues hesitate. His body moved like a storm given flesh, half-shifted, claws bursting through his knuckles mid-strike, teeth flashing when his rage broke the line of control. Every blow was precise, brutal, a reminder of why he was Alpha. Rogues fell in pieces around him, yet more poured forward, reckless and snarling. Nyx’s breath came fast as she sank to her knees beside a fallen warrior. Blood bubbled at his lips, his chest heaving shallowly. She tore open her
The Luna’s Revenge Clash of the Rogues
The war camp pulsed with restless energy. Wolves in human skin moved swiftly, sharpening blades, strapping leather guards across forearms, and tying axes to belts. The scent of iron and pine hung heavy in the night, laced with the sharp tang of anticipation. Warriors’ eyes glowed faintly under the moonlight, betraying the beasts that waited beneath their skin. Nyx trailed behind Theron, her hands clutching a small satchel of herbs she had refused to put down. Every step she took was shadowed by whispers. “Why is she here?” one warrior muttered, his voice carrying despite the effort to keep it low. “She’s no fighter.” Another hissed back, “She’s the Alpha’s mate. Our Luna. She should be behind walls, not standing on a battlefield.” The word Luna struck deep, wrapping itself around Nyx’s chest. She was not crowned, not bound by vows, yet the title clung to her, demanded something from her. She squared her shoulders and ignored the whispers. If she faltered now, they would see only w
The Luna’s Revenge The Alpha’s burden
morning was quiet, but it was not a peaceful kind of quiet. It was the hush that came after a storm, the silence that pressed against the skin, heavy and waiting. Nyx stood outside the Alpha’s chambers with a small tray balanced carefully in her hands. The scent of herbs rose faintly from the clay bowls, crushed roots mixed with honey to dull pain, dried petals steeped in warm water to cleanse poison from the veins, and a small flask of thick salve for the wound across Theron’s ribs. She had risen earlier than most, her thoughts restless after the night before. Sleep had not come easily. Even now, her cheeks warmed at the memory of how it had ended, the way his lips had brushed hers as though she belonged to him, as though he had known her for lifetimes instead of days. It had been tentative, almost hesitant, but the strength behind it had left her trembling. And yet, beneath that memory was the darker truth, the sight of him bleeding in the clearing, the poison creeping like ink u
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