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

“Callum, LET HER GO! You’re scaring her!”Lila’s voice cracked through the tension, but Callum didn’t move. He loomed over Rhea, his storm-grey suit pants still perfectly ironed despite the strain running through every line of his body. His tie was loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up, but he still looked like control personified—an Alpha carved from stone, even as his wolf snarled for dominance.Ace-Callum’s wolf- wanted her on her knees. Scar—my wolf—wanted the same. But seeing her pressed into the mattress like that? Tears streaking her flushed cheeks?My chest fucking ached.“You’re going to break her, Callum,” Jax snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. He stood a step away, dark jeans and a black button-down rolled at the sleeves, his shadowy presence radiating danger. His wolf prowled beneath the surface, restrained but lethal, his gaze locked on Rhea like a predator debating whether to strike.“Back off before she panics,” Jax bit out.Callum growled low, the sound rumbling

The sun was warm against my skin as we exited the pack house, but it did nothing to ease the suffocating weight pressing down on me.The Caine brothers flanked me like a living wall, their towering forms moving in quiet synchronicity that screamed one thing: control. Their shadows stretched long across the gravel drive, dark sentinels that made my stomach twist.The sleek black SUVs gleamed in the morning light, runes carved faintly into the rims glowing with protective enchantments. Their tinted windows reflected back an image I barely recognized—me, a girl trapped between four alphas who acted like my entire existence was theirs to dictate. This wasn’t an escort to the academy. This was a damn transport, and I was the package.Every step toward the car felt like another link in the chain they were wrapping around me. My pulse picked up, my fists clenched, but they moved in sync, their presence closing in, making escape impossible.And of course, Callum chose that moment to piss me o

By the second bell, the academy had turned into one long, petty stage play where I was the villain for daring to breathe. Every hallway was a throat, every whisper a swallow. The enchanted sconces along the corridor flickered with those pale witch flames Silver Ridge loved—moon-cool, steady, judgmental. My feet clicked over rune-laid stone, and the sigils thrummed under my arches like a pulse, like the entire building was taking my measure and filing me under: problematic.Lila looped her arm through mine before I could bolt. She practically radiated fire, chin high, eyes snapping, daring anyone to make a comment. She didn’t need words to scream fuck around and find out. Bree slipped on my other side, softer, quieter, grounding me with her presence. Nora trailed just behind, her worry written all over her expression, her guilt still a live wire she couldn’t seem to cut.Every girl behind us leaned forward like piranhas at the glass. Tessa, queen of the unimpressed blond pack, muttered

The cafeteria at Silver Ridge Academy wasn’t just a dining hall. It was a damn arena.Vaulted ceilings arched into shadow, beams carved with Lycan runes that pulsed faintly in rhythm with the wards embedded into the walls. The wards were alive here—listening, testing, feeding on dominance and emotion like curious predators. Stained-glass windows towered along the far wall, fractured with coloured panes that told the story of the Great Accord—wolves clasping hands with fae, dragons bowing flame to treaties, moonlight binding them all.The air was thick with magic and scent: roasted venison, warm bread, citrus from enchanted fruit, the metallic tang of wards thrumming. Every sound—the scrape of cutlery, the rumble of laughter, the scuffle of boots on stone—was sharper, louder, too aware.And every gaze snapped to me the second I stepped in.There she is.The quads’ Luna.She doesn’t even look like much.The whispers bit harder than claws.Bree strode beside me, calm as always, like she

The SUV hummed along the dark Lycandran road, but the silence inside wasn’t peace. It was pressure. Too many Alphas in one vehicle, their dominance humming so thick the wards carved into the metal frame glowed faintly, forcing the magic to hold steady.They’d been talking about rogues for half the ride. Not strategy, not politics. No—blood. Callum had described their “solution” in his low, even voice, like he was giving a lecture instead of recounting ripping out a rogue leader’s throat with his bare teeth.My stomach lurched. I shifted against the leather seat, tugging the blanket tighter around me like it would block the image out. Spoiler: it didn’t.And of course, Jaxon noticed. He always fucking noticed.“Scared, sunshine?” His voice was velvet over gravel, lazy but edged, like he already knew the answer. He slouched in his seat, broad frame taking up more space than should’ve been possible, jet-black hair sleeked back with that one stubborn strand my hands twitched to touch. Dan