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Ghost Stories

Penulis: JZS
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-12-05 03:13:17

The cabin hadn’t known quiet in days. Every corner was thick with worry, the air saturated with tension that clung to skin and bone alike. Two days since Gunner’s disappearance. Hours since Tyler had been wrenched from them. And now—now the fear had sharpened into a razor edge that cut through every word, every breath.

Chelsea stood near the fireplace, her phone clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles glowed white. The screen pulsed with the call timer. Grammy. Their last line of hope.

“I need you,” Chelsea whispered hoarsely into the phone. “I don’t know what’s taking them, but it isn’t natural. It’s magic, something deep and old. You’re the only one who can—”

Her words cracked. Not because of Grammy’s reply, but because of the sudden, violent snap inside her chest.

The bond.

It stretched like glass pulled too thin, tightening, threateni

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  • W.I.L.D.   The Dreams Return

    The night was still across the Blood Moon lands, heavy with a silence that felt less like peace and more like the pause before a storm. The pack slept. The firepits in the common yards burned low. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.And in the quiet, the Guardians began to dream.Cheyenne knew it the second her head hit the pillow. The pull was sharp, primal, the same way Koa sometimes yanked her toward a hunt before she even smelled prey. The world of the waking blinked away, and she stood in a forest drenched in moonlight, shadows stretching long between the trees.The hunt.NaKoa’s massive white paws pressed into the earth beside her, emerald eyes flashing like lanterns in the dark. The wolf’s voice, low and steady, filled her chest. This is not a simple dream, Chey. Pay attention.She breathed in, expecting the scent of deer or rabbit, but her lungs filled with nothing. No musk of fur, no damp soil, not even the usua

  • W.I.L.D.   Queen’s Fire

    The sun hung low over the Blood Moon pack’s training grounds, casting long shadows across the stone bleachers where wolves, witches, vampires, dragons, and phoenixes watched silently. For once, it wasn’t just a sparring demonstration—it was Cheyenne’s personal stage. Every eye was on her.She adjusted her stance, muscles coiled, ready, feeling Gunner across from her, smirk playing at his lips. “So… you’re sure you want to do this now? Right in front of the whole pack?” he teased, hands raised casually.Cheyenne raised a brow. “Oh, I’m sure. And besides… you’re the one who keeps saying you’re the anchor, right? Time to prove it.”Gunner chuckled, rolling his shoulders. “Careful what you wish for, Queen Alpha. I don’t pull punches.”“Oh, I don’t expect you to,” Cheyenne shot back, green eyes glowing faintly as Koa stirred beneath her ski

  • W.I.L.D.   Old Wounds

    The training grounds still smelled like damp earth and sweat, the rain from last night leaving everything slick with mud. The air was heavy, charged with tension that Cheyenne could feel before she even stepped out of the cabin. Wolves clustered in small groups, voices low but heated, words sharp enough to cut.“…we shouldn’t have to bow our heads to leeches.”“…or scale-backs. They’ll turn on us the second it suits them.”“…the Queen’s blinded, thinking peace is anything but a leash.”Cheyenne’s wolf bristled under her skin. Koa pressed low and ready, ears flat. They test us. They forget who we are.Cheyenne kept her shoulders squared, her pace steady, as she crossed the muddy yard. Every eye turned to her, some narrowing with suspicion, others softening with shame. The dissenters didn’t bother hiding their sneers. A few stepped forward, chests puffed like

  • W.I.L.D.   Festival of Fire & Moon

    The air was thick with spice, woodsmoke, and joy.After months of training, blood, and the heavy weight of shadows, the Blood Moon lands pulsed with life again. Lanterns bobbed in the night breeze like captured stars, strung between towering pines. Wolves moved through the clearing, laughter rising above the booming rhythm of the drums. Phoenixes had lit towering pyres that shimmered in hues of crimson, gold, and blue, each spark curling into the night sky like dancing fire spirits. The witches had woven enchantments into the bonfires, sending harmless embers that floated into the air and hung suspended like fireflies, glowing softly before fading into the dark.It wasn’t just a celebration. It was a declaration—fire and moonlight, side by side. The Moon Goddess and the Phoenix Flame, honored together for the first time.Cheyenne leaned against the food table, hip cocked and arms folded as she eyed the spread like it was the eighth wonder of the worl

  • W.I.L.D.   Quiet in the Storm

    The cabin welcomed them the moment the door shut. It smelled faintly of cedar and smoke, the scent of the woods clinging to the beams and rugs, layered with something softer—herbs from the bundle hanging by the window, lavender and sage that Cheyenne had insisted on weeks ago. The hearth crackled lazily, flames licking low at the logs, painting everything in shades of copper and honey.Cheyenne kicked off her boots, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and all but melted against Gunner. The weight of the day—the endless planning, the sharp edges of other people’s fears and hopes—seemed to loosen its grip the second she crossed the threshold. Here, she didn’t have to be the Queen. She could just be Chey.Gunner said nothing, simply guiding her with that steady hand at the small of her back. He moved with ease, as though he’d known her exhaustion before she ever spoke it, and drew her toward the wide, cushioned couch draped in the kni

  • W.I.L.D.   Orien’s Test

    The news traveled through the Blood Moon pack faster than wildfire in dry grass: Orien was being tested.By the time the sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of gold and crimson, half the pack had gathered in the training field. Wolves lounged on the wooden fencing, children darted between legs, and warriors leaned on spears or stretched shoulders in anticipation. The energy wasn’t hostile, but it was charged—like a festival where everyone knew someone was about to get roasted alive.Serenya stood just behind Orien, arms crossed, lips twitching as she caught snatches of conversation.“Think he’ll survive five minutes?”“Depends who they throw at him.”“I heard Ben’s going first.”“Oh, he’s dead then.”Solana stirred pressing at the edge of her mind, but Orien’s calm pulse brushed against hers through their bond, steady as a mountain. I&rs

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