All Chapters of White Wolf: Blood Moon Rising” : Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

Darkness tasted sharp and metallic.It clung to Celeste’s tongue, bitter as old coins, and stuck in her throat as she clawed her way out of the void—past the memory of blood soaking her shirt, hot and sticky and impossible to scrub away, past the look on her fiancé’s face as he shoved the knife in, sharp with triumph and disgust, past the shrieking of the pregnant bitch he’d cheated with, her voice raw and jagged, screaming that Celeste had it coming, that this was justice.Then—just like that—the world snapped back.She sucked in air like she’d been struck by lightning, every nerve sparking awake. Her chest heaved, lungs desperate. The taste of death lingered, metallic and cold, but was fading, replaced by something electric, alive.Celeste shot upright, gasping. Not on the warehouse floor where she’d bled out alone, abandoned, but in a bed—a bed so massive it seemed to swallow her whole. Velvet, lush, sheets soft as a whisper, draped in silk, smelling faintly of moon lilies and old

The Vale Estate was crawling with tension, buzzing the way a nest of snakes might when you poke it with a stick. Candlelight flickered across polished marble, shadows writhing along the walls like they had a mind of their own. Every Elder in the pack was there, and not one of them looked friendly. Their eyes darted, sharp and suspicious, like they were each waiting for someone to draw first blood, and the air was thick with unspoken threats. Every breath was a challenge; every glance a dare. It was as if the ancient walls themselves held their breath, waiting to see who would shatter the uneasy silence.Right in the middle, Celeste stood tall—white-lavender hair spilling down her back, glowing like moonlight you could actually touch. Power hummed under her skin, alive, itching for release, the kind of energy that made the very air vibrate, as if reality itself was struggling to contain her. Every step she took made the ancient floorboards vibrate, a warning to everyone present that so

Celeste wakes before dawn, the sky still bruised and purple from the night. She’s buzzing, restless, leftover power sparking beneath her skin—wild, raw, the same force that tore through her at the ceremony. Her wolf won’t settle, pacing just under the surface, itching to bolt straight into the storm.But chaos gets there first.A knock—sharp, steady, all business.Alpha knock.She doesn’t have to look. Her heart already knows, pounding so hard she’s surprised her ribs hold.She yanks the door open, probably too hard—and there he is.Kael Draven.Her mate.Her migraine.Those gold eyes pin her like he’s already claimed her. His hair’s still messy from shifting, his jaw all sharp lines, dangerous as ever. And his aura—gods, it’s a tidal wave, cocky and hungry, like he knows exactly what he does to her.“Training starts now,” he says, stepping in like he owns the place.Celeste shoots him a look. “Guess chivalry’s still dead.”“Manners won’t save you,” he throws back. “Control will.”She