All Chapters of BOUNDED BY MOONLIGHT : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The air in Raven Ridge felt heavier than usual, as if the very earth itself was bracing for the storm that hovered over them. The town had always thrived on whispered legends and hushed tales, but now, silence gripped its streets—a silence not born of peace, but of fear.Elora stood on the crest of the hill, staring down at the valley where the old ruins lay. The ruins were said to be the birthplace of the first blood oath, a sacred ground where wolves bound their destinies together in loyalty or in destruction. She had never walked here before, yet the stones hummed beneath her feet, ancient and alive, pulsing as though they recognized her.Joel walked beside her, his hand brushing against hers as if the contact kept him anchored. His father’s death still clung to him like a second skin, shaping him, twisting him. The grief was not soft—it had hardened into something sharp and dangerous, a fire that flickered in his eyes and threatened to burn everything

The forest had never felt so suffocating. Every breath Elora drew carried the damp weight of moss and soil, clinging to her lungs like smoke. The moon hung high above the tangled canopy, pale and ghostly, casting fractured light across her path. Shadows stretched and contracted with every step, long claws of darkness that seemed to reach for her ankles.Her feet ached from running, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when Joel’s voice still echoed in her head—the desperate way he had called her name before the chaos tore them apart. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, as if she could hold that memory in place, keep it from slipping into the dark void that threatened to swallow her whole.Roots snagged her boots, stones sliced at her skin, each stumble sending sharp pain jolting up her legs. Still she pushed forward, her body driven not by strength but by fear—the kind that gnawed at her insides and refused to let go. The forest was no longer j

The night was unbearably still, as though Raven Ridge itself was holding its breath. Mist curled across the forest floor, ghostly fingers weaving between roots and broken stones. Elora stood in the clearing, her pulse thundering, her body caught between dread and resolve. Tonight was not only about survival—it was about truth. At last, she would face the knots of her destiny that had been strangling her since the first blood moon.Joel stood beside her, his hand brushing hers as if to anchor her. His body was worn from battle, his skin marred with fresh wounds, but his eyes burned with an unshakable fire. He had vowed never to leave her, and she believed him. Yet even his presence couldn’t shield her from what loomed in the shadows.Kerric waited across the clearing, half-shrouded in mist. His dark figure looked carved from stone—Alpha in every sense, powerful and commanding—but his expression flickered between fury and longing. The moonlight sharpened th

The forest was too quiet.The air still carried the metallic tang of blood, the echo of Kerric’s last scream lingering beneath the memory of the spirit wolves’ howls. Those spectral cries had rattled the heavens, torn through Raven Ridge like an ancient hymn of judgment. Now only silence remained, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on Elora until it felt like the earth itself wanted to bury her.Her knees gave way, and she sank into the damp grass. Her wide eyes fixed on the patch of ground where Kerric had stood only moments ago, where the spirits had dragged him away into nothingness. The soil was scarred and dark, etched with silver traces that shimmered faintly under the moonlight, as if the land itself remembered what had happened.“Kerric…” His name cracked in her throat, leaving her lips as nothing more than a ghost of a whisper.Joel stood at her side, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His face was drawn, his eyes sh

The night clung stubbornly to the horizon, its shadows reluctant to surrender to the coming day. Raven Ridge lay hushed in the fragile in-between, where the silver light of the moon bled into the lavender wash of dawn. The forest, scarred by battle, still smelled of smoke and iron, as though the earth itself remembered every scream, every howl, every oath broken beneath the blood moon.Elora stood on the high cliff where it had ended. The soil beneath her boots was marred with claw marks and patches of scorched grass, remnants of the spirit wolves’ descent. The pendant in her hand—once radiant, now cracked and dim—caught the fading moonlight. It had been her anchor, her curse, her tether to both chains and hope. Now it was a relic, fragile and fractured, much like the girl who held it.Behind her, Joel stood silent, his silhouette carved against the paling sky. His presence was steady as stone, yet the tension in his shoulders betrayed the weight he bore.