All Chapters of The Rejected Blood Moon : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Crimson GiftThe candles in Mona’s chamber burned low, their flames flickering wildly as if afraid.She stood before the cracked mirror, breathing hard. Her reflection no longer shimmered gold. It pulsed — veins of black threaded through her skin, faintly glowing beneath the surface like dark lightning.Her hands trembled. The blood magic still roared through her veins, singing with power and pain. Every heartbeat felt like fire. But behind the pain was something else — euphoria.For the first time in her life, she felt limitless.She tilted her head, studying her reflection. The woman staring back looked both divine and dangerous — eyes glowing crimson, a faint dark sigil etched across her throat like a crown.She smiled. “Beautiful,” she whispered to herself.The mirror whispered back, its fractured voice echoing faintly. Beautiful… and doomed.Mona’s smile only widened. “Doomed are those who stand in my way.”She turned toward the altar, where the elixir’s shattered vial lay in pie

ShadowlandsThe world bent as Lucien’s shadows carried us through.One heartbeat we stood in the forest; the next, we stepped into a realm that was not earth and not sky — a place between light and darkness. The air was thick and cold, pulsing with faint whispers that brushed my skin like invisible fingers.The Shadowlands.Lucien’s realm.The home of everything that lived without a name.The sky here was endless gray, the ground black glass that reflected no light. Shapes moved in the distance — shadows without form, watching. Waiting.I swallowed hard. “So this is where you live.”Lucien glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Live isn’t the word I’d use.”“What would you call it?”He stepped forward, his long coat sweeping the ground. “Punishment.”Something in his tone made me pause. “You mean… this place is a prison?”“In a way.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke. “The Shadowlands are bound to me as much as I am to them. I forged this realm to contain my power — and my sins.”H

Crimson ThroneThe heart of the Shadowlands pulsed like a living wound.Crimson light spilled from cracks in the black stone, glowing veins that throbbed with unnatural rhythm. The air was thick with whispers — the sound of lost souls weeping and prayiny, their voices drawn to the new queen who had claimed dominion here.Mona stood in the center of it all, bathed in bloodlight.The power she had drunk now lived inside her like a second heart. It pulsed with every breath, whispering promises in an ancient tongue. The sigil at her throat burned brighter than ever, its lines etched deep into her skin. Her hair flowed like liquid gold, but her eyes — once warm amber — were pools of crimson flame.She had never felt so alive.Around her, the shadows bent in worship. Once Lucien’s domain, now they bowed to her will. She had torn his balance apart strand by strand, feeding her magic through the fractures until his world became hers.And she wasn’t finished.Mona lifted her hands, fingers spr

Queen ReturnsThe mortal air burned.Mona gasped as she fell through the rift, crashing onto the cold earth of the mortal realm. Her body ached, her veins on fire. The world around her spun — trees warped and groaning, the soil bleeding faintly red beneath her hands.She had escaped the Shadowlands… but not unscathed.Her power flickered, unstable. The link with Kimberly had nearly ripped her apart. Yet even through the pain, she smiled.“I felt it,” she whispered. “Her light… and his darkness. Together.”She spat blood into the soil, the drops sizzling like acid. “Then they’re both mine.”The forest was silent — too silent. Even the moon above seemed to hold its breath. Mona lifted her gaze to it, the faint crimson tint still clinging to its edge.“The next rise will be mine,” she said softly. “And when it comes, the world will kneel.”A rustle behind her made her turn.Several wolves emerged from the shadows — Derrick’s sentries, their eyes wary. When they saw her, they froze. She l

The Awakening of Wolf's The pain had become part of him.Every breath Derrick took burned like fire in his veins — the echo of Mona’s magic twisting through his blood. Her command lingered in his bones, forcing his body to obey even when his mind screamed in defiance.He hated it.He hated her.But above all, he hated himself.The throne room was quiet now, filled only with the hum of her crimson energy. Mona stood near the shattered windows, her arms outstretched toward the bleeding moon. Her wolves — no, her creatures — knelt in perfect stillness, their eyes glowing faintly red.Derrick stood among them, a puppet in a war he no longer believed in.His thoughts, however, were his own again — barely. Every hour that passed, the mark she had placed on him weakened, flickering when her focus drifted elsewhere. He had learned to hide behind the cracks, to think in silence, to move when her power wavered.Tonight, it was flickering again.Mona’s voice broke through the stillness. “The mo