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Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Triggered
“Don’t you dare die on me,” Triston ordered, his voice trembling with fury and desperation. “Hold on. We’ll get you out of here. Jaxon, Xaren—get the damn arrows out of the way! Clear the field!”But Revin shook his head weakly, his breath rattling in his lungs. “Listen… to me.” His fingers twitched, barely gripping the front of Triston’s torn tunic. “Ivone… she can’t stay there. Don’t let… don’t let Reyes keep her… not a day longer.”Triston’s throat tightened, his jaw clenched as he fought to hold back the emotions clawing at him. “I swear it. I’ll bring her back. You’ll see. We’ll—”“No,” Revin whispered, his voice breaking. “It… it gets worse for her. If you don’t… stop him now… you’ll lose her.” His eyes clouded, his strength slipping like water through his fingers. “Promise me…”Triston swallowed hard, the world around him narrowing until there was nothing but Revin’s face, pale and bloodied. “I promise,” he said, voice like a vow carved in stone.Revin exhaled—a final, shudderi
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Desecrated
Triston leaned forward in the saddle, almost involuntarily, as if getting a few inches closer might make the inscription less real. He blinked hard, his throat closing. “That... no. That can’t be—”But it was. Reyes' smirk from across the field told him it was no lie. No bluff. It was a message, a desecration, a declaration of war not just on Elyria, but on him—on everything he held sacred.Jaxon moved closer, a hand tightening on his shoulder. “Triston, breathe.”But Triston couldn’t. Not yet. His world had tilted violently off balance, the ghost of his sister rising from a coffin that never should have been here. The pain, the confusion, the raw betrayal—it surged inside him like fire in his veins.And above it all, the voice of Reyes still rang clear. “You want her back?” he shouted, gesturing to the coffin now surrounded by black powder. “Come and claim her.”And then he saw it. All around the coffin, black powder. Lots of it. Carefully placed, purposefully set. His eyes widened.
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Captive
The morning sun had barely risen when Reyes rode into the battlefield at the head of his column, black armor gleaming with a cruel sheen. Behind him, two heavy wagons rumbled forward, drawn by thick, snarling beasts bred for war. Each wagon was large and draped in coarse, dark tarp, the edges fluttering like torn banners in the breeze.The Nyxorian soldiers parted for their Alpha, forming ranks on either side as he dismounted and strode forward to the front of the line. He held no flag of truce, no token of diplomacy—only that ever-present smirk, carved sharp across his face like a blade.With a casual flick of his hand, he ordered the wagons pushed forward, closer to no man’s land—the stretch of land between enemy lines that neither dared cross without a fight. As the first wagon groaned to a stop, Reyes raised his voice, projecting it across the field.“TRISTON!” His voice cracked like a whip, echoing through the valley. Silence fell over both sides as heads turned and breaths held.
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Echoing Horn
Xaren, who had been observing the exchange, broke the silence first, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You don't even need that thing, Triston," he said, stepping forward and nudging the sword with the toe of his boot, his voice laced with an amused confidence. "You've got your wolf, and you're faster with claws than steel. Just tear through their camp, rip through them. You’ve done it before.” Jaxon gave a crooked grin, nodding in agreement. "He's right. Your wolf's worth ten swords, especially with that arm. Let the beast do the talking. That sword's just decoration when you’ve got your wolf.” Triston grunted, a grudging acknowledgment, he looked at them both, his expression unreadable. He knew they were right; his bond with his wolf, was a formidable weapon. Yet, the unease gnawed at him, a hot ember of anger flickering beneath his calm facade. To be anything less than his full self, especially today, felt like a betrayal. With a slow exhale, he crouched to pick the weapon back up—n
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden The Fourth Day
The scent of stale canvas and nervous energy hung heavy in Triston's tent as the pale light of dawn crept in, casting long, slanted shadows across the thick maps strewn over the central table. The air inside was taut, thick with tension and the scent of oiled steel and leather. Outside, the pre-dawn chill of the fourth morning bit hard as the camp stirred to life—soldiers preparing, murmurs of prayer and final words before battle—but inside, a different kind of cold settled in the pit of their stomachs and silence reigned for a beat longer.Triston stood at the table, fastening the last buckle of his chestplate with calm precision. His silver-lined armor gleamed dimly in the muted light, a stark contrast to the darkness in his eyes. Xaren and Jaxon flanked him, both adjusting their weapons, their movements slow, deliberate. A trio bound by a shared purpose and a looming battle, moved with practiced efficiency, donning their combat gear. Each buckle, each strap, was a silent vow.No on
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Hold On
She scrambled upright, the bed creaking beneath her weight. The chain clinked sharply as she reached the edge of the mattress. She took one shaky step forward, then another, but just as her fingers outstretched toward the dark shape of Revin in the gloom, the chain snapped taut. The shackle on her wrist yanked her backward with a cruel tug, cutting into her skin and halting her mere feet from the center of the room. She stumbled, caught herself, and let out a cry of frustration—a broken, breathless sound. The chain rattled violently as she tugged it, cursed at it, wrapped both hands around the iron cuff and pulled with everything she had but it didn’t budge. Tears filled her eyes again, hot this time. Angry. “No—no, no…” she whispered frantically, trying to tug free. Her eyes locked on Revin, who lay across the room, collapsed near the balcony doors, the spikes still embedded in his shoulders and thigh. Blood soaked the fabric around the wounds, forming a dark, growing pool beneath
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