All Chapters of White Wolf: Blood Moon Rising” : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Nyxara Vale slouched deeper into the velvet embrace of her couch, letting the silence settle around her like a weighted shroud. The cacophony of her world—the endless notifications, the shuffle of subordinates, the distant mechanical heartbeat of the city—had vanished, leaving only the dense hush of her penthouse. It was a silence so absolute it felt physical, pressing in on her ribs, swaddling her in a rare, isolating peace. Outside, the city hurtled on, oblivious, clinging to the old scripts about power and dominance that she planned to rewrite in fire and blood.Kael and Rowan were gone—obedient to the end, dispatched on wild goose chases to investigate phantom alliances and assets that existed only in her mind. She’d orchestrated their absence, craving this pocket of solitude, and yet she felt the echo of their departure as a dull ache under her skin. The bond between them, so newly forged and raw, hummed with tension, a living wire pulled taut by secrets and unspoken things. She’

Nyxara never imagined she’d be the one to break the silence first, but the words pressed at her lips, restless as the wolf prowling inside her mind.Rowan lingered in the shadows, half-swallowed by the dimness, fingers tracing mindless patterns over his tablet as if the blue glow could shield him from reality—or maybe from her. Kael’s absence pulsed in the air, a fresh wound, his anger still vibrating in the space he’d left behind. Now it was just her and Rowan, the old tension thickening, the bond between them a live wire she could barely stand to touch.“You know why I stayed,” Rowan said, voice no louder than a breath, yet steady as stone. There was a gravity in his words that pulled at her, a weight that thudded in her chest, right where the bond connected them, raw and exposed. She tried to push it aside, to hide behind the cold mask she wore for everyone else, but with Rowan it was never enough. He saw through every shield.She let the silence stretch, testing him, wanting to se

Nyxara’s heart pounded so fiercely she thought it might break through her ribs. Pressed between Kael and Rowan, the flickering shadows painted their faces in gold and amber, the air humming with the magnetic bond that tangled the three of them together. She’d spent weeks trying to deny this, convincing herself she could ignore the pull, the longing. But every smoldering glance from Kael, every teasing graze of Rowan’s fingertips along her skin, only fueled the growing hunger inside her.“I can’t… not both,” she breathed, her voice trembling in the charged silence. Kael reached for her, rough palms gentle as he tipped her chin up. “You can. You already do. We’re yours, Nyx.” Rowan’s lips brushed her ear, his breath hot. “Let yourself go. We’ve all waited long enough.”That was all it took—the tension snapped, need rushing through her like a storm. Nyxara stopped fighting. She pulled Kael to her, kissing him with a ferocity that left no space for doubt, tasting his longing as their mouth

Nyxara sensed it first, before the data could confirm what her bones already screamed. Something fundamental had shifted—not in the city’s pulsing heart, not in the frantic churn of the markets, but deeper, beneath skin and stone, where history itself flexed and twisted as if waking from centuries of sleep.The bond between them snapped taut—Kael on her left, Rowan on her right—both men freezing as if the same invisible wire had pulled them still. Within her, the White Wolf stirred. Not with rage, not with the wildness that sometimes threatened to consume her, but with a cold, precise recognition. An ancient intelligence, alert and calculating.“This isn’t a reaction,” Rowan murmured, his eyes locked on the screens, voice low and edged with something like awe. “It’s a reveal.”Nyxara’s fingers flew over the keys, hacking through digital walls and ancient seals that should have outlasted empires. Encryption, heretic and obsolete, crumbled before her will. Archives unspooled—decaying re

The sky tore open first.Not thunder—fear.Nyxara felt it slice through the air, raw and unforgiving, like the echo of a scream bitten off before birth. The Concord’s sigils blazed across the battlefield: colossal, burning runes carved into the storm-wracked clouds, a prison for gods, wolves, queens—her.They’d come prepared. They always did.“Shields up!” Kael roared, already drenched in blood that smoked on his skin—definitely not human.Rowan pressed close on her other side, eyes aglow with silver, veins thrumming with ancient magic. “They’re unraveling the ley lines. If they finish—”“They won’t,” Nyxara replied, voice granite-steady, though the world vibrated beneath her feet.Perhaps too steady.Corpses littered the ground: wolves, soldiers, creatures conjured from the collective nightmare of a thousand ruined worlds. Fire raged above, magic detonated in sickening bursts, and the scent of blood—metallic, holy in its thickness—swallowed every breath.Still, the Concord advanced.