All Chapters of The Full Moon Murders : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The road was half-rotted and forgotten, swallowed by the forest. Logan drove with the headlights off, tires crunching quietly over gravel. Beside him, Mason checked the magazine on his rifle. Reyes sat in the back with the kid, Finn, who hadn’t spoken much since they left the cabin.“You sure about this place?” Reyes asked.“No,” Logan answered. “That’s what makes it the right place.”The entrance was hidden beneath a landslide. The only giveaway was the steel hatch barely peeking through the soil, its hinges rusted but not broken.Finn stepped forward. “They dragged her in through here. I watched from the ridge.”“Anyone else guarding it?”“Two men. Both smelled—off.”Logan nodded. “Means they weren’t men.”Mason tensed. “Werewolves?”“Or something worse,” Logan said.They pried open the hatch. Cold air rushed out, stale and metallic.Below them, darkness waited.They moved quietly through the old power trail, using the canopy for cover. Rhea led with two others: a sharp-eyed woman n

The rain hadn’t let up. It crashed against the windows in sheets, steady and relentless, as if the sky itself was trying to drown the truth.Evelyn stood near the boarded window of the safehouse, arms crossed tight across her chest, soaked to the bone. Her heart thudded like a war drum in her chest, the adrenaline still burning from the chase. She didn’t trust tonight. She didn’t trust anything anymore.Then the door burst open.Senator Trask stumbled inside, coughing, bleeding from a gash near his ribs. His expensive coat hung from his shoulders in tatters, and his eyes — those calculating, composed eyes — were wide with something Evelyn hadn’t seen in them before.Fear.Real fear.He looked at her, almost pleading. “You have to believe me, they’re coming. They sent—”She had her gun drawn before he could finish.“You should be dead,” Evelyn said flatly. “You disappeared. You ran.”He slumped into the wooden chair like he’d been holding his breath for hours and just couldn’t anymore.

The rain had finally stopped, but the city was no calmer. Smoke curled from broken rooftops. Alarms screamed across a skyline wrapped in fear. The werewolves had stopped hiding—and the truth, too, refused to stay buried.Evelyn’s fingers trembled as she scrolled through the encrypted file Logan had recovered. Her father’s name was there. Buried in a decades-old logbook of classified donors and scientists who had funded Operation Lycan in its infancy.James Cross. Her father.A donor. A handler. A silent enabler.She read the words again, trying to feel something, anything—but she was numb.He'd died thinking he was a hero. But now? She wasn’t sure what he’d really been.Logan stood across the room, bruised and barely healed. He hadn’t said much since Lucian’s attack. Neither had Damian. Voss had vanished after the fight, leaving only a message on Evelyn’s burner:“Don’t trust anyone until I get back. Especially not your old allies. They’ve already chosen a side.”And then… silence.No

The plan was simple.But nothing ever stayed simple for long.Evelyn adjusted the straps of her tactical vest, staring at the blueprint spread across the table. Logan stood beside her, checking his weapons in silence. The Circle's lab where Mason was being held was buried beneath an old military hospital — off-grid, abandoned, and swarming with armed guards who didn’t blink like normal people.“He’s on sub-level three,” Logan said, tapping the map. “Guard rotation’s light between 2 and 2:15 a.m. We’ve got a window of seven minutes before the next shift rolls in.”Evelyn nodded. “Seven minutes to get in, extract him, and get the hell out. No alarms. No mistakes.”Logan looked at her, his eyes flickering with wolf heat. “You sure you’re ready for this?”She met his gaze. “I’m not letting them keep him. Not again.”Damian stood at the edge of the city, where steel gave way to trees and memories he’d buried long ago.The message had come an hour ago: Come alone. Or she dies.No name. No l

The sky split open.Not with lightning—but with howls.Evelyn stood at the precinct's second-floor window, her hands gripping the sill so hard the wood cracked beneath her fingers. Down below, the street was chaotic. Patrol cars screeched to life. Civilians screamed and scattered. And in the distance, just beyond the laneways and rooftops...Wolves.Not one. Not a pack. A wave.Logan appeared beside her, his shirt bloodied, jaw clenched. "They're not just circling anymore. They're coming in."She turned to him. Her voice, low and sharp. "Where's Mason?""Still in the holding cell. Reyes won’t release him without confirmation. Says we don't know what he is anymore.""He’s one of us," she said. "And if we leave him, we’re no better than the bastards who put him in that lab."A loud bang rocked the precinct—something slamming against the main doors. Wood splintered. Officers drew weapons. Someone screamed.Reyes burst into the bullpen, his eyes wild. "We hold the line. No one fires unles