All Chapters of White Wolf: Blood Moon Rising” : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The heavy door clanged shut, sealing them inside. Red lights flashed, throwing wild, sharp shadows across the room. The air tasted metallic and burned with a weird, electric tang. Whatever the Continuum was up to messed with her senses. Nyxara felt the wolf spirit inside her stir, muscles tight, senses on high alert. Kael was a silent shadow next to her, his eyes missing nothing. On her other side, Rowan stayed solid, his hand lightly touching the small of her back, a quiet I'm here that kept her centered. Then it started. Like something out of a nightmare, metal panels in the walls hissed open, and these things spilled out—part person, part machine, all killer. Fast, cold, deadly. Kael swore under his breath and moved without pause. His fist connected with the first attacker, the sound of cracking metal and bone echoing. It was brutal, controlled, and sent a jolt straight through Nyxara. Rowan met the next one head-on, calm and precise, turning the thing's own force against it. Nyxar

The strike hit right as they were on the move.No warning. No spectacle.Just sharp and silent—danger disguised as nothing at all.Nyxara caught it first—the White Wolf froze, every sense on edge, her instincts shrieking before any alarm had the chance to wail.“Stop,” she barked, voice slicing through the hush.Kael jolted to a stop, sliding in front of her with the muscle memory of a hundred battles, making himself a living shield. Rowan fell in behind, his hand steady and firm on her lower back, grounding her, holding her in place with a silent promise that nothing would get through.The corridor lights flickered overhead, casting shadows that seemed to crawl.Then, in a breath, the floor simply vanished.Nyxara spat out a curse as gravity seized them, yanking them down into a suffocating blackness. Kael’s arm locked tight around her waist in midair, his grip an anchor, while Rowan twisted, tucking her against his chest, absorbing the brutal impact as they crashed and tumbled acros

Nyxara woke to the wrong kind of silence. Not the peaceful hush she sometimes craved, but something warped—off-kilter. The sort of silence that makes your insides crawl, as if the world is holding its breath, waiting for something to break.Her wolf sensed it first. Hackles up, tension thrumming beneath her skin, a pulse of warning that prickled down her spine. Something’s changed, it whispered, low and urgent. The bond—the one that tied her wolf to the rest of her—hummed with restless energy, uneasy and insistent, like a warning bell vibrating under her ribs, telling her without words that the ground beneath her had shifted.Across the room, Rowan stood by the window, arms folded tight across his chest, a living barricade. He stared out at the city as if he expected it to bite, his whole body coiled and rigid, knuckles white where they gripped his own arms. Every line of him screamed vigilance, suspicion, a readiness for the worst.But Kael wasn’t there. His absence thudded in the ai

Nyxara didn’t leave right away.She lingered in the empty elevator bay, the chill of the steel beneath her palms grounding her as she fought to steady her breath. The world seemed to pulse around her in slow motion, each heartbeat echoing the weight of what she’d set in motion. She could almost feel the reverberations, the delicate balance shifting beneath her feet. What she’d just done—what she had chosen—demanded a pause, a reckoning with the consequences already gathering like storm clouds on the horizon. Inside, her wolf paced, muscles coiled, not wild but taut with anticipation, as if bracing for the next blow. The animal in her didn’t crave chaos this time; it was watching, waiting, nostrils flaring for the scent of whatever came next.Behind her, Rowan’s voice was a soft murmur in the comms, calm but razor-sharp, orchestrating the lockdown with clinical precision. He was moving people like chess pieces, sealing corridors, barking quiet orders to ensure no leak, no mistake, coul

The city pressed in, thick with tension, like a living thing breathing down Nyxara’s neck. Neon veins pulsed through the skyscrapers, casting jagged shadows across her penthouse—her fortress above the chaos. Every window framed a different kind of threat: mobs seething in the lower districts, silent predators lurking in the alleys, the power struggles of rival syndicates unfolding across the skyline. It was all noise, a tide that tried to erode her, but Nyxara wove through it, heels tapping out a deliberate, unyielding rhythm on marble floors that gleamed like ice.Screens lit up as she passed, filling the air with the glow of incoming threats. Human adversaries moved positions in red outlines, supernatural anomalies flared on spectral sensors, and financial graphs bled crimson where her enemies chipped away at her holdings. Each warning tried to claim her attention, to force her hand, but she wore her indifference like armor. The world pressed around her, but she would not be moved.