All Chapters of Beasts of the Moon : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Iris.Later.I jolt upright. For a moment, I don’t know where I am, only that I’ve just leapt from a dream where I stood beside Gerald, as a Silver Wolf, fighting at his side. My heart hammers, my eyes wide, my naked skin clammy with sweat.“Are you alright, baby?” Gerald’s voice cuts through the haze. His arm slides around me, pulling me against the heat of his bare chest. I press my face into him, wrapping my arm around his waist.“Shh… it was only a nightmare,” he soothes.I nod, forcing my eyes shut to banish the image from my mind. My breathing steadies.“What happened?” I whisper when the silence has stretched too long. Memories drip back standing among ferocious Blue Wolves, their stares cutting into me. The confrontation. And something else a strange déjà vu, like I’d seen it before. Then the heaviness, like pushing through a wall, before everything went black.“You fainted,” Gerald says quietly. “Primrose thinks it was from fear.”A flush of shame prickles my skin. “I’m sorry

Luke.Monday, 30th June. Next day.New York.Morning.“Mr…”“Just call me Luke, Mr. Terrence Furrow.” I cut him off before he can finish. His narrow gaze sharpens on me, guarded.We’re in his office at the Ministry of Identity. The smell of paper and ink thick in the air. Phones ring. Shuffling files fill the silence between us.“Luke…” His tone is neutral, his expression almost carved from stone, even though the file of Iris Conrad lies open on his desk. “I don’t know the reason you think I would be able to help you with the information you seek.”I lean forward, my voice low, steel. “I need you to tell me what you know about this woman. Iris Conrad. I’m told she was very close to you. That means you have an idea about her home, her enemies.”His face flickers. Just for a second. But I catch it.“I don’t know anyone by that name,” he says tightly.“Even though your signature is right there on this document?” I jab a finger toward the page.His eyes snap to mine. His lips press into a

Oleen Ramleigh.Midnight.I stare hard and long at Iris Herewit as she sleeps in Gerald’s arms. The same arms I once claimed as mine. An emotion too alien for my body slowly weaves its way into me, curling deep, rooting in my center like a venomous seed.After Luke left, pain wracked me. It shook me until it reached my very core and settled there, festering. I lay on the ground, shame eating at me, cursed by the very gifts that were meant to be blessings. Condemned never to be loved by any mortal, while I was bound to love every mortal unconditionally. My phone rang endlessly, but I ignored it. At some point exhaustion claimed me.And in sleep, I saw something. A vision of a room I was told never to enter. A forbidden place in my own house. A voice whispered in my ear, urging me to come find it.When I woke, I obeyed. My feet carried me to the basement, to the hidden door. It swung open before I even touched it. Strange, yes, but my life has always been made of strange.Inside, the ai

Erianna.Evening.It’s evening and I’m huddled with Ephraim and his cohorts in the basement of a bar. One of his loyalists owns the place. The air down here reeks of smoke, roast meat, and stale beer. Werewolves loyal only to Ephraim crowd the table.“I say we storm the Ford mansion and take Gerald down. Why wait for Simon and Gerald to play by the rules of engagement? We just need to make sure he’s killed…”“No!”The word rips out of me before I can stop it. I shove to my feet, eyes blazing at Rudy for daring to say such a vile thing so casually. Every gaze cuts to me, their faces still but their thoughts loud in my head.How dare she speak out of place?She forgets her place as a female.Just because she’s his mate…I block them out and pin my focus on Ephraim. His expression doesn’t condemn me, his eyes stay lidded, unreadable. Watching. Measuring.“No killing my brother. No killing my family,” I say, voice sharp but steady. “Harm him, incapacitate him, but you will not kill him.”

Erianna. I stagger back, horror choking me as Oleen’s words sink in. My chest tightens, my breaths shallow and frantic. She’s lying. She has to be lying. Calling that woman Iris Herewit? No. No. It isn’t possible. A chill swarms me, sharp and unnatural, cutting deeper than the cold air around us. “It’s not possible… Gerald said the healer told him she died. Iris died. She didn’t survive my attack that night.” My voice trembles as the memory claws its way back, bloody, merciless, alive inside me. Patrick’s neck snapping beneath my jaws. His lifeless body falling. Iris bleeding, broken, and barely breathing. She couldn’t have survived. She shouldn’t have, just as the healer had said. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Oleen’s sneer slices into my ears, louder than my own pulse pounding like war drums. I grip the hood of my car for balance, nails digging into metal, my body weak. She’s close behind me now, I feel the pull of her darkness. “Did anyone ever see her body? Did the healer sh