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Something Stolen
Last Updated:
2025-07-17 04:33:04
Latest chapter
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden All The Lies
Zina froze and Ivone didn’t waver. She stepped toward her with controlled fire in her eyes, every word laced with bitter truth. “I know you’ve been stealing my scent, Zina. Faking your bond with Reyes. Manipulating his wolf. And you know what’s worse?” Her voice dropped into a cold whisper. “What you share with him? It’s not love. It’s fraud. A fantasy you’ve built with desperation and deceit.”Zina’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her fury trembled against the weight of Ivone’s certainty.Ivone tilted her head. “And don’t forget,” she added calmly, “I could end it all with one word. One truth told to the right ears—and your entire little fantasy burns to ash.”“You don’t scare me,” Zina spat, though her voice wavered. “Reyes would never believe you!”“You sure about that?” Ivone narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. “How much would you bet that he hasn’t already noticed that we have the same scent?”Zina’s breath caught. Her expression faltered—only for a second, but it was enough
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Something Stolen
Ivone stood at the small writing table near the window, the afternoon sun casting a warm golden glow over the parchment spread before her. Scrolls lay open in scattered clusters, some ancient and curling at the edges, others newer, ink still fresh. Her quill scratched steadily across the surface of a page, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.Then the door burst open with a loud crack against the stone wall, jarring her from her thoughts but Ivone didn’t flinch. She barely looked up, only a brief glance, enough to see the familiar storm of jealousy and frustration that was Zina standing in the doorway, breathing heavily like she’d sprinted all the way across the castle.Ivone’s lips curved into a wry, unimpressed line as she turned back to her work, dipping the quill in ink with calm precision. “What now, Zina?” she asked dryly. “Here to accuse me of something else?”Her voice was smooth—quiet, but laced with the exhaustion of someone who had been dragged through too many games an
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Premonition
Dathan looked at him carefully. “And is she?” A long silence followed. “I don’t know,” Reyes murmured. “But she’s the only thing keeping me from slaughtering them all where they stand. The question is… will she be the reason I win this war—or the reason I lose it?” Dathan leaned forward, resting both hands on the table. “Then don’t let her distract you, Alpha. If she’s your weakness, make her your weapon.” “Triston is not here just for vengeance,” Reyes muttered. “He’s here for her. He’d burn every inch of Nyxoria to the ground just to get her back.” Dathan’s expression darkened, lips pressing into a grim line. “And that makes him dangerous.” “No,” Reyes said, stepping back from the table and lifting his goblet again. “It makes him predictable.” He took a long sip of wine, then set the goblet down with more force than necessary. “Men who fight for love are easy to corner. All you have to do is dangle the thing they care about in front of them and wait for them to fall into thei
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Something Fractured
The torches burned low inside the Nyxorian war chamber, their flames flickering and sputtering as though uneasy with the weight of what the room held. The scent of smoke and old blood clung to the air—memories of past battles steeped into the very stone. Shadows danced restlessly across the cold walls, their movements echoing the tension that simmered beneath the surface. In the center of the room, a massive oak table stood like an altar to war, its surface dominated by a sprawling map of the borderlands. The parchment was yellowed and stained from use, its corners curled from age and contact with ash. Carved obsidian pieces—representing legions of soldiers, supply convoys, strategic strongholds—sat like silent sentinels across the map. Each was meticulously placed, their black sheen glinting in the low torchlight. Alpha Reyes stood at the head of the table, a living storm held barely in check. One hand braced against the wood, his fingers tense and bloodless from the pressure. The
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Time And Weaknesses
Triston's hands flexed into fists at his sides, the veins in his forearms taut, trembling with restrained power. Let him try. He didn’t care that his shoulder was still raw and aching, he didn’t care that his right hand hadn’t fully healed. Let the gods bear witness, he wouldn’t wait for his body to mend. He would ride out with the full weight of Elyria behind him. He would tear through Nyxoria like a reckoning. Reyes would be brought to his knees, and then to his grave. And only then would Triston breathe easy again. Revin glanced up from the makeshift war table, where maps and figures marked routes of attack. His eyes were calm, but wary. “He knows what she means to you." he said carefully, "That’s why he knows he can use her. He knows she’s your weakness.” “My only weakness,” he said softly. Triston didn’t look at him, but the air around him shifted—denser now, darker. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, his breathing deepened like a storm held barely in check, growing heavier,
Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden Not Broken
The tent was thick with the scent of blood, herbs, and seething tension. Jaxon stood near the entrance, arms folded tightly across his chest, his eyes constantly drifting to the parted flap where he could just make out the distant silhouettes of the Nyxorian army. The low hum of soldiers preparing for the night beyond the canvas only made the silence inside the tent heavier.Triston sat rigid on the edge of his chair, jaw clenched, muscles coiled with tension as the physician worked on his shoulder. Blood had soaked through the torn fabric of his tunic, mixing with dirt and sweat. Reyes’ bite had reopened the half-healed wound, and the torn flesh throbbed beneath every pass of the physician’s cloth.Xaren sat on a crate at the far end of the tent, elbows on knees, watching the whole process in silence. He had said little since they returned from the clash. His face bore a grim expression, jaw tight with unspoken thoughts, but his eyes never left Triston. He was watching—not just as a
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