All Chapters of W.I.L.D.: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The news traveled through the Blood Moon pack faster than wildfire in dry grass: Orien was being tested.By the time the sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of gold and crimson, half the pack had gathered in the training field. Wolves lounged on the wooden fencing, children darted between legs, and warriors leaned on spears or stretched shoulders in anticipation. The energy wasn’t hostile, but it was charged—like a festival where everyone knew someone was about to get roasted alive.Serenya stood just behind Orien, arms crossed, lips twitching as she caught snatches of conversation.“Think he’ll survive five minutes?”“Depends who they throw at him.”“I heard Ben’s going first.”“Oh, he’s dead then.”Solana stirred pressing at the edge of her mind, but Orien’s calm pulse brushed against hers through their bond, steady as a mountain. I&rs

The air was thick with spice, woodsmoke, and joy.After months of training, blood, and the heavy weight of shadows, the Blood Moon lands pulsed with life again. Lanterns bobbed in the night breeze like captured stars, strung between towering pines. Wolves moved through the clearing, laughter rising above the booming rhythm of the drums. Phoenixes had lit towering pyres that shimmered in hues of crimson, gold, and blue, each spark curling into the night sky like dancing fire spirits. The witches had woven enchantments into the bonfires, sending harmless embers that floated into the air and hung suspended like fireflies, glowing softly before fading into the dark.It wasn’t just a celebration. It was a declaration—fire and moonlight, side by side. The Moon Goddess and the Phoenix Flame, honored together for the first time.Cheyenne leaned against the food table, hip cocked and arms folded as she eyed the spread like it was the eighth wonder of the worl

The sun hung low over the Blood Moon pack’s training grounds, casting long shadows across the stone bleachers where wolves, witches, vampires, dragons, and phoenixes watched silently. For once, it wasn’t just a sparring demonstration—it was Cheyenne’s personal stage. Every eye was on her.She adjusted her stance, muscles coiled, ready, feeling Gunner across from her, smirk playing at his lips. “So… you’re sure you want to do this now? Right in front of the whole pack?” he teased, hands raised casually.Cheyenne raised a brow. “Oh, I’m sure. And besides… you’re the one who keeps saying you’re the anchor, right? Time to prove it.”Gunner chuckled, rolling his shoulders. “Careful what you wish for, Queen Alpha. I don’t pull punches.”“Oh, I don’t expect you to,” Cheyenne shot back, green eyes glowing faintly as Koa stirred beneath her ski

The packhouse war room was dim except for the soft glow of the lamps on the table. A large map stretched across the oak table, marked with pins and colored lines representing patrol routes. The air was taut with focus, the kind that came only after nights like the last—when visions turned into warnings, and warnings became the promise of a storm.Ben stood at the head of the table, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. His leadership had always been calm but edged with steel, and tonight it burned through every word he spoke.“She said the girl is already here.” His voice dropped low, heavy with certainty. “That means it isn’t just a question of if. It’s when.”Gunner leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. The weight of his presence filled the room—the King Alpha in all but title when he was away from his queen. His expression was unreadable, but his amber eyes glowed faintly, betraying the storm brewing benea

The moonlight turned the sand silver, the tide whispering in and out with the rhythm of a heartbeat. Serenya walked barefoot, her sandals dangling from her hand, the salty air tugging loose strands of her dark hair. The beach wasn’t far from the pack’s borders, and she’d chosen it for tonight because running free along the water always quieted the storm inside her.Orien trailed beside her, his stride longer but somehow heavy, his silence more noticeable than the waves. Normally, he filled the air with teasing—remarks about her serious face, about how her horse form always looked like it wanted to outrun the horizon itself. Tonight, though, he was tight-lipped, jaw set.She noticed. Of course she noticed.“You’re quiet,” Serenya said, glancing sideways at him.His eyes—stormy gray with flecks that always reminded her of twilight—didn’t meet hers. “Just thinking.”“About w