LOGIN“I’m yours, King Nightbane,” she whispered, breath trembling. “I can feel it… I can’t hide it from you.” My instincts reacted before reason could catch up—not from restraint, but from something far more dangerous. Her presence overwhelmed the space between us. I could sense her without effort. Like the air itself had changed the moment she stepped closer. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to belong to someone like you,” she admitted softly. “Completely.” The words should have been innocent. They weren’t. They struck something primitive inside me.
View MoreNYXORA The chamber smelled of foxfire and judgment.Whispers rippled through the gathered court, a tide of rumors too loud to drown out. My nails dug into my palms as I stood in the center, forced to face them.“They say she carries the pearl,” one elder whispered.“They say the goddess chose her,” another hissed.I lifted my chin, eyes hard, though my throat tightened. Felyndra. Always Felyndra. The whore with her false innocence, her baby, her glowing pearl.I would not kneel to her.The only mother I had known, the Fox queen sat high upon her throne, silver hair crowned in foxfire light. Her eyes cold, sharp — never left me. She didn’t look like the woman who always doted on me with affection.Nightbane stood beside her. Back from war. Armor still scarred, wolf still breathing though fading. His face was unreadable, jaw locked. When his gaze brushed me, it wasn’t even anger. It was nothing.That stung more than hatred.And behind them, the elders, draped in crimson robes. The hal
The Fox court glittered with gold and deceit. I had learned to stop staring at the jeweled mosaics on the ceiling or the foxfire lanterns in the corridors. Pretty things here were dangerous things.That morning, a maid came. Her name was Mara.She bowed low, her hands cradling a small wooden chest, lacquered red and carved with fox sigils.“From the Queen’s cousin in the South,” she said. “A token of allegiance.”Her eyes didn’t meet mine. Her voice was too smooth.I looked at the chest. “What’s inside?” I asked.“A charm for protection, Princess.” She answered.I felt Roses stir at my hip, wrapped against me in her sling. Her tiny fists clenched as if she knew something I didn’t. A faint glow around my neck gave a faint pulse, like a heartbeat answering hers. I was told it was a pearl and it could pulse anywhere in my body.Mara stepped forward. Too close.And then, Roses cried. Not a soft whimper but a shrill, panicked scream. The pearl flared, white-hot light spilling from it, so b
AURONLies. All of it. I had stopped being a listener to my own heart. I had started being an arsonist of my own conscience—burning things so others would not see my cowardice.When the camp went still and the wolves slept fitfully, I walked the perimeter. The moon was a thin nail in the sky. I pressed my forehead to the rough wood of the palisade and breathed.I had not chosen right. But at least I moved. At least I tried to balance. The fracture inside me split the deeper for it.Night passed with fever in my bones. By the time the sun clawed out of the black, the rumors had reached us. They called me a hero. They spoke my name as if praise could stitch a wound. It did not. Praise is just sound. It does not fill the hollow spaces guilt digs.I sat alone with a wet palm pressed to my mouth and decided, with a clarity that hurt, I would stop doing only half the right thing. I would sabotage Bowman where I could, but I would not let Snow be taken by him. If she chose Bowman willingly,
AURONThe smell of smoke had a way of clinging. It burrowed under skin, into hair, into the throat. It never left, not even after rivers of blood and weeks of battle. Tonight it pressed down like a curse, curling from the ruins of the vanguard village we had reclaimed. Wolves dragged Bowman’s corpses into heaps, torches cracking them to ash. But for every body we burned, Bowman made sure to leave us ten more.He was everywhere. A shadow with teeth. And with him was my sister, Snow. Swollen with his baby.I saw her again tonight.Not the sister who used to climb apple trees and smear jam on her cheeks, but someone sharpened by grief into a blade. Bowman had wrapped her in his cause as tightly as he’d wrapped his cloak. She stood in their war council like she belonged there, silver braid coiled like a crown. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t need to. I could feel when her gaze slid past my shoulder; I knew the way she could still read me …. like an old bone.My throat tightened. Nails b
NIGHTBANEI spent the night by Felyndra’s side. The faint fox mark appeared now and then on her. When I met her for the first time, I knew she was a mystery to be unravelledd. Could she be d? No. I dug into her background; her parents were wolves.I exhaled and rubbed my palm down my face. Only one
NIGHTBANEThe fire inside my veins died when my eyes landed on the glow coming from her belly under her garment. It was as if a pearl was awakening, something I’ve never seen before. I reached down my hand, but it was gone before my hand could touch Felyndra’s little round belly. The air was thick
NIGHTBANEI carefully push the door open, avoiding any noise, and step into the room. A faint candle illuminates the room, and as I drew closer, I heard her gentle heartbeat. Her calm breath. The blanket covered her perfectly, and the more I drew closer, the clearer I saw her face. She was sleeping
I read the autopsy result in my hand, and my suspicion was confirmed. The boy didn’t kill himself. He was murdered, right under my nose. The question remained, who did it? Every minute that passed put Auron's sister's life at risk.I placed the paper filled with ink on the desk and walked to the op












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