LOGINWerewolf Fiction, Trope: Arranged Marriage / Forced Mating / Rejected Mate / Betrayal Setting: A mighty werewolf city, Perth, ruled by competing packs. The MoonStone Pack — once amongst the strongest, now takes an alliance with the vicious ruthless Night Walker Pack, led by Alpha Derrick Wilson. From ancient werewolf traditions to modern pack politics, the city is the battlefield for dominance, power, and bloodlines. BLURB Kimberly has always lived in the shadow of her perfect younger sister, Mona. When her father brokers her marriage to evil Alpha Derrick Wilson, it’s supposed to be a sacrifice for peace. But on the night of the engagement, everything falls apart—Derrick is hers and then rejects her for Mona, her own sister. With her pride not just bruised but battered (she has been humiliated, betrayed, and has lost her position in the pack), Kimberly now faces a fate she could not have imagined; being the slave of the man she should have mated with. But when it seems like all hope is lost, a mysterious stranger offers her something far more dangerous — an opportunity to seek revenge. Now, with her wolf awakening and secrets of her bloodline surfacing, Kimberly has a choice to make: run and start over—or embrace the darkness and reclaim everything that was taken from her. While Mona stole her mate, Kimberly is the one chosen by fate. And fate does not take kindly to creeping around her light.
View MoreDedication. For the hearts that break, burn, and bloom again. To every soul who has ever been rejected, forgotten, or silenced — this story is for you. There are moments in life when we believe our pain makes us unworthy of love, when the world feels too dark to remember the warmth we once carried. We shrink, we hide, and we tell ourselves that maybe it’s safer to stop feeling altogether. But the truth is this: the heart that still aches is the one still alive. The flame that trembles in the wind is proof that it refuses to die. The Rejected Blood Moon was born from that truth. It was written for those who have loved deeply and lost completely, for those who have been told they are “too much,” “too emotional,” or “too broken.” It is for the dreamers who still reach for the light even when the night refuses to end. Because rejection does not define you. Pain does not end you. Every wound you carry is also a window — a place where the light enters when you are finally ready to le
The Twin FlamesThe dawn that rose over the mountains was unlike any before it.The air shimmered faintly, carrying warmth that was both golden and crimson —light and shadow woven together like breath and heartbeat.Liora stood at the summit, her hair rippling in the wind,watching as the first sunlight spilled across the valley.Below her, the Flow shimmered through the rivers,alive again — not pure, not perfect,but whole.She could feel it in her chest:the twin heartbeats, gold and red,rising and falling in harmony.> thrum … silence … thrum … silence …This was balance.This was what Lyra and Kaenor had begun.What Kaela had carried.What she — the last Keeper — had finally completed.---The Return of WarmthAs the Flow healed, the world changed.Forests that had long slept burst into bloom again,leaves unfolding like memories.Rivers ran clear.Mountains breathed.From distant cities,people awoke with tears on their faces and laughter in their throats.They didn’t know why
The Heart of ShadowThe Flow had grown faint.Liora felt it as she crossed the northern plain — a trembling rhythm beneath her ribs, unsteady and thin.> thrum … silence … thrum … … silence …It was not resting.It was hurting.She reached a stretch of land where the grass was colorless, the air still and brittle.The warmth she carried could not reach the roots here.Something had taken hold — something older than forgetting.At dusk, the ground shuddered.A voice whispered through the soil:> Beneath … the root … the heart bleeds …Her pulse quickened. “The root of what?”The whisper faded, leaving only silence and the faint scent of ash.---The Canyon of Red LightThree days later, the mountains appeared, black and sharp against a red dawn.At their center yawned a vast rift — a canyon glowing faintly with crimson light that pulsed like a heartbeat.Liora descended carefully, the rocks warm beneath her hands.Halfway down, she felt another presence.A man stepped from the shadows
The Song of the SleeperThe land beyond the river was gray.Not barren—there were trees, rivers, and cities still standing—but everything seemed muted,as if color itself had grown weary.Liora had walked for days without hearing laughter.No music, no chatter, no warmth.People moved like ghosts through their routines—working, eating, sleeping—their faces still, their eyes dull.Even the air was still.No wind, no birdsong,no heartbeat beneath the soil.When she reached the edge of the main road,she felt it clearly.The Flow was gone.---The City of Still HeartsThe sign at the city gates read: Haven.But there was no haven here.The buildings were perfect, clean, orderly.Children played without smiles.Couples walked hand in hand but never touched eyes.Everything functioned.Nothing lived.Liora entered the central square,expecting at least one soul to look at her.None did.She spoke softly,“Good morning.”No one answered.A market vendor sold fruit in silence,mechanicall
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