All Chapters of Moonbound At Sliver Ridge: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“LET HER GO! You’re scaring her!”Lila’s voice cracked through the tension, but Callum didn’t move. He loomed over Rhea, storm-grey dress pants still razor-pressed even with strain in every line of his body. Tie loose, sleeves rolled, veins standing out in his forearms—but he still looked like control wearing a suit while his wolf wanted carnage.Ace wanted her on her knees. Scar—my wolf—wanted the same.But seeing her like that, tears streaking down her flushed cheeks?My chest actually hurt.“You’re going to break her, Callum,” Jax snapped, voice sharp enough to cut glass. He stood a step off to the side, dark jeans and a black button-down rolled at the sleeves, his whole presence edged in danger. His wolf prowled just under his skin, eyes locked on Rhea like he was deciding who to rip apart first—her fear, or whatever caused it.“Back off before she panics,” Jax bit out.Callum’s low growl rolled through the room, vibrating the silver-inlaid runes carved into the walls. The wards hu

The sun was warm against my skin as we stepped out of the Packhouse, but it barely touched the pressure sitting heavy on my chest. Warmth meant freedom; today it felt like another leash.The Caine brothers walked tight around me—too close, too coordinated—like a silent formation designed to box me in. Four living walls. Four shadows stretching long across the drive, swallowing mine until it barely existed.Two black SUVs waited at the end of the path, polished enough to reflect the runes carved faintly along their rims. Those sigils glowed in the morning light, pulsing with ward-magic meant to protect whoever rode inside.Right now, I felt like cargo.My pulse jumped. My palms went sweaty. Every step toward the SUV felt like a choice I wasn’t making.And of course… Callum had to start the day by throwing gasoline on the fire.“The academy is a fresh start, little Luna,” he said, calm and absolute, like he held the world and the schedule and my entire future in one iron-gripped fist. Hi

The second bell hadn’t even finished echoing before Silver Ridge Academy turned into one long, petty stage play where I was somehow the villain for existing. Every hallway felt narrow, like a throat swallowing me whole. Every whisper grazed my skin. The enchanted sconces along the walls flickered with their pale witch-flames—cool, steady, judgmental—as if they, too, were critiquing my life choices.Rune-laid stone thrummed under my boots like a second pulse, the academy measuring me, weighing me, filing me under: problematic.Lila hooked her arm through mine before I could bolt, practically radiating fire. Chin high. Eyes sharp. Daring anyone to try their luck.She didn’t need words to say fuck around and find out.Bree slipped in on my other side—quiet, gentle, grounding—while Nora hovered just behind us, her worry so loud it was almost its own presence. Guilt clung to her like a shadow she couldn’t outrun.Behind us, the girls leaned forward like piranhas against glass. Tessa, queen

The cafeteria at Silver Ridge Academy wasn’t a dining hall.It was a damn arena masquerading as one.Vaulted ceilings arched so high they vanished into shadow, beams carved with Lycan runes that pulsed in sync with the wards woven through the walls. The magic here didn’t just exist—it watched. It listened. It fed on emotion like a starving beast.Stained-glass windows stretched floor to ceiling, fractured colors depicting the Great Accord—wolves clasping hands with fae, dragons bowing flame to treaties, moonlight binding the realms whether they liked it or not. The place practically hummed with history…and judgement.Scent hit next—venison, fresh bread, citrus from enchanted fruit—and beneath all of it, that metallic tang of wards vibrating. Too aware. Too sentient.And every head snapped toward me the moment I stepped inside.There she is.The quads’ Luna.Doesn’t even look like much.Whispers slashed sharper than claws.Lila walked beside me like a walking threat, chin raised, eyes g

The SUV hummed along the dark Lycandran road, but the silence inside wasn’t peace. It was pressure—thick, hot, territorial pressure. Four Alphas in one vehicle meant the wards carved into the metal frame glowed faint silver, forced to contain the dominance humming through the cramped space.They’d been talking about Myhral rogues for half the ride. Not strategy. Not politics.Blood.Callum had described their “solution” in that low, even tone of his—calm, clinical, like he was discussing the weather instead of tearing out a rogue leader’s throat with his bare hands.My stomach turned. I tugged the blanket tighter around me like it could shield me from the image. (Spoiler: it couldn’t.)And of course, Jaxon noticed. He always fucking noticed.“Scared, sunshine?” he drawled—velvet over gravel, lazy but edged, like he was already amused by whatever answer I gave. He lounged in the seat beside me, broad shoulders taking up more space than physics should allow. Jet-black hair slicked back e