All Chapters of Moon-Marked and Mated: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Ainsley The forest always felt different at dawn—quieter, softer, like the world held its breath just long enough for me to pretend I was normal. Not the Alpha’s daughter. Not the soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old girl with a whole pack waiting to see who the Moon would chain her life to. Just Ainsley. My feet hit the packed dirt trail in a steady rhythm, cool air biting at my cheeks as I pushed myself harder up the incline. Running cleared my head. It always had. My wolf hummed beneath my skin, alert and powerful, settling into the pace like she’d been born for it. We were, really. Second-born. Not destined to lead, not expected to carry the pack on my shoulders—that was my brother Kieran’s path. At Nineteen, he was calm under pressure, already acting like the Alpha he’d soon be. Yet he still hadn’t found his mate, despite his visits to all allied packs. The whole pack whispered about it. Quietly, respectfully, but they whispered. Which is exactly why my father was curr

Raithe — Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack The taste of blood lingered on the back of my tongue long after training ended. Not real blood—just the echo of it. The rage. The hunger. My wolf paced beneath my skin, agitated and restless, claws dragging against the inside of my ribcage like he was trying to tear his way out. Mate. Find her. Now. His voice was getting louder every week. My beta, Daxon, tossed me a towel. “You nearly snapped Kael’s arm.” “He wasn’t blocking properly,” I growled. “He was blocking fine. You’re just… worse lately.” He hesitated. “Raithe, this isn’t normal.” I threw the towel aside. “Nothing is normal when a wolf is twenty-three and unmated.” Daxon grimaced. Everyone knew the stories. After twenty-one, an unmated alpha’s instincts sharpened into something feral. After twenty-two, aggression and sleeplessness set in. After twenty-three… Madness. That’s what they whispered. That I was slipping. Losing control. Some days, I wondered if

Raithe The moment his SUV rolled across the border into Silver Shadow territory, Raithe felt the familiar shift of dominance—his wolf prowling just beneath his skin, testing every scent, every sound. Calm. He pushed the command inward, but his wolf only snarled back. Two days. Two days until the girl—the Alpha’s daughter—turned eighteen. The mate-seeking celebration that every unmated wolf on the continent seemed eager to attend would begin tomorrow night, then he would know if she was here, his salvation from the growing madness. Or maybe she wasn’t and he would be cursed to loose himself to the madness that was threatening to take over more and more every day. He hadn’t come for the party. He’d come for survival. The Blood Moon Pack was fraying under the strain of his worsening temper, and elders whispered that he was slipping toward the madness that claimed Alphas who went too long without their mate. He tried to ignore the murmurs, the fear in his warriors’ eyes, the weight

Raithe The clearing bustled with life around him—voices, footsteps, the faint hum of excitement. But Raithe felt none of it. His senses were narrowed, sharpened, pointed like an arrow at the lingering echo of something he still refused to name. He forced his shoulders back as Alpha Thorn stepped forward, radiating steadiness and warmth that made the air feel… lighter. A sharp contrast to the heavy, storm-charged tension that clung to Raithe like a second skin. “Alpha Thorn,” Raithe greeted, gripping the older wolf’s forearm. “Alpha Raithe,” Thorn returned, voice full of genuine welcome. “Your presence is appreciated. Many are looking forward to meeting you and your pack.” Raithe doubted that—Blood Moon’s reputation usually sent wolves scrambling in the opposite direction—but he let the politeness stand. He released Thorn’s arm, nodding slightly. Daxon, standing just behind him, offered the Silver Shadow Alpha a respectful dip of his head. The Silver Shadow warriors mirrored it,

Raithe The guest cabin was nicer than Raithe expected—modern, spacious, smelling faintly of cedar and clean linens. Silver Shadow hospitality was no joke. Dax shut the door behind them and threw himself onto one of the couches with a grunt. “Alright,” he said, stretching his legs out, “are you going to tell me what the hell that was, or do I need to start guessing?” Raithe pretended not to hear him. He walked the length of the room, fingertips brushing the window frame as he looked out over the pack grounds. Wolves moved back and forth carrying party supplies, decorations, food crates. A buzz of life and anticipation. Ainsley’s scent still clung to the hallway behind them like a soft echo he couldn’t shake. Dax cleared his throat dramatically. “Okay. I’ll start guessing.” Raithe closed his eyes. “Don’t.” “Was it her voice? Her face? Her hair? Her—” “Dax.” Dax grinned, hands raised. “Just trying to help.” Raithe turned away from the window, irritation simmering under his sk