Semua Bab MoonLit Sins: The Curse Of Red Hollow: Bab 1 - Bab 10

If someone had told me six months ago that I’d be packing up my dead mother’s vintage Camaro and driving to a town called Red Hollow—a name that sounds like it was yanked straight out of a horror movie, I probably would’ve laughed in their face.Okay, maybe not laughed. More like snorted and flipped them off.But here I am. Windows down. Hair tangled in the wind. Sunglasses on despite the overcast sky. And a playlist full of angry indie girl anthems blasting through blown-out speakers. It’s giving "main character with trauma and a tragic backstory," I know.I didn’t choose this town. My aunt did. She claims it’s peaceful, quiet, a good place for “healing.” But so far all I’ve seen are miles of pine trees, gas stations that look like serial killer hubs, and a general store where the cashier stared at me like I was the Antichrist wearing eyeliner.So yeah. Healing. Sure.I pull up to the cottage my aunt left for me. It's cute in a “cozy murder scene” kind of way. Ivy climbs up the faded

You’d think finding out you might be the heir to a cursed wolf clan would come with, I don’t know, cake. Or a welcome packet. Maybe a magical amulet that whispers bedtime stories from my ancestors.But no.All I get is a cryptic blonde and emotional trauma for dessert.I spend the night tossing and turning, dreaming of wolves with hollow eyes and girls made of moonlight. When I wake up, there’s a sharp ache pulsing in my chest right where my sternum is, like something inside me is trying to claw its way out.Fantastic.Maybe it’s indigestion.Maybe it’s destiny.Either way, I need answers.“Marked One?” I mutter, walking into the library with the energy of a caffeine-deprived gremlin.The place is practically empty, save for the librarian who gives me the same polite but low-key terrified look I’ve started collecting since I got to Red Hollow. It's starting to feel like I should charge for appearances. “Come see the cursed girl, now with extra fangs!”I head to the Restricted Folklore

The Council chamber is colder than I expected.Not temperature-wise, though it’s chilly in that crypt-vibes, zero-soul kind of way but emotionally. Every set of eyes I pass as I walk down the stone aisle to the center dais is void of warmth. Hungry. Calculating. Watching me like I’m a bomb someone forgot to disarm.I feel like I’m wearing a “Hi, I’m Potential Doom!” sticker on my forehead.Kael walks beside me in full alpha mode back straight, expression unreadable, dressed in the kind of crisp black shirt that says “yes, I murder things but make it fashion.” His hand occasionally grazes the small of my back like he’s trying to protect me without being obvious.It doesn’t help.My spine tingles with every step toward the ancient circle of high-backed chairs.Twelve alphas. Twelve thrones. Twelve people deciding whether I live, die, or become their magical pet project.“Lyra Thornbane,” booms the Council’s speaker an older wolf named Darius who looks like he was forged from oak trees a

The dawn was a liar.It promised light but left the world drenched in shadows.I woke tangled in Kael’s arms, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold storm brewing outside.His steady breathing was oddly comforting, like a lighthouse in a sea of chaos.I traced lazy circles on his chest, trying to convince myself that for a few stolen hours, the world was normal.But the reality clawed its way back the moment my eyes opened.Kael was already awake, eyes sharp and alert.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough but tender.I smirked. “Is it just me, or do you look like you haven’t slept since the rogue attack?”He chuckled darkly. “I’m not sure sleep is an option right now.”I sat up, stretching. The weight of responsibility settled over me like a lead cloak.“Then what do we do?”Kael’s expression hardened. “We hunt.”I frowned. “Hunt what?”“A lead. They left traces behind last night something they didn’t want us to find.”He pulled out a small, blackened shard metal twisted a

The city never truly sleeps. Even under the pale gaze of the moon, shadows moved with purpose, whispers in the wind, secrets traded behind closed doors, and eyes watching from the gloom with malicious curiosity. Every cobblestone in Red Hollow had a story, and lately, they all seemed to end in blood.Kael and I had barely caught our breath after Selene’s revelation about the rogue faction infiltrating the Council when new threats surfaced like poison ivy, itchy, relentless, and deadly.Morning came with a grim report. Not even coffee could soften the edge of what we saw.A Council member had been found unconscious in his manor’s courtyard, a message carved into his chest with surgical precision: "Trust no one."The words looked fresh, angry, and deliberate.Kael’s face was unreadable as he showed me the calloused hand of the victim, his ring finger missing, the Council seal torn from his robe.“This isn’t just about the rogues anymore,” Kael said, voice low. “It’s an inside job. We’ve