All Chapters of Beasts Of The Moon Rise Of The Outcasts : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Scar. Brooklyn. Saturday, January 30th. Next day. Night. “So you’re telling me that we still can’t solve the series of abductions that have occurred in recent days.” Chief Piefer snaps. His voice rings through the room, sharp and cracking. His face is flushed red with anger. We’re cooped up in his office, summoned minutes ago after yet another female was reported missing from her college dorm. “Worse is, we don’t know what happens to these kidnapped victims thereafter. Human females. No bodies. No noise. No trace. And I have you as detective, Icegard.” He slams his palm hard against the table. The others flinch. Cowards. I don’t. I sit there, unmoving, watching the chief unravel. “Sir…” Cassidy’s voice cuts in, tentative, cautious. I shift my gaze to her, lock eyes. She looks away immediately. She hasn’t spoken to me since that day at my house. She’s been avoiding me even though she’s on my team. “Detective Icegard is capable of holding the team together,” Cassidy says,

Gerald. Silvaton Ridge. Saturday. 6th February . Days later… I’m walking through the thick forests that frame Silvaton Ridge, separating it from the rest of the borders. It’s night. Still winter. Spring hasn’t even begun to raise its head. Yet here, in these woods, in this moment, the snow is gone. The ground beneath my feet is woodsy and earthy, damp with life. Leaves and flowers blanket the forest floor like the seasons themselves have been bent, warped. The air is rich and ancient. “This is a dream, right?” I mutter, my voice low and unsure. I try to wake myself. I try to force it. Shake the dream loose. But I don’t wake. Instead, something pushes me forward. A pull. A force. Not violent, just deliberate. It draws me toward a glowing light ahead, framed like a flaming heart, suspended in the dark. When I reach it, the heat rolls over me slowly, warming my skin. Tiny lights break free from the flame, sparkling as they fall and dissolve into the ground. The light throbs. W

Emerald. 11th February. Thursday. Next day. Late noon. I sit on the couch, nursing a tub of ice cream. Vanilla, strawberry and banana flavored. I think there’s coffee flavor too in it. I can’t remember. I didn’t check. I just opened the fridge and dumped every ice cream I owned into one huge, frozen mess. My eyes stay fixed on the television, even though I can’t see a thing. Everything is blurred. The screen. The room. My thoughts. My tears keep coming, quietly, relentlessly. No alcohol this time. When I drank yesterday, after my shift, it only made things worse. Made me sick. Weak. Made me cry harder. It barely drowned the sorrow Arthur caused me. Barely muted his words. Words that cling to me like a curse. Like a prophecy. And somewhere between my sobbing and the ache splitting my chest open, that voice returns again. 'He’s lying.' It won’t leave me alone. It's calm, certain and male. As if it knows something I don’t. As if it’s promising me that I have a mate somewhere out

Dawn. Monday, February 15th. Next day. Morning. Emerald texted me moments ago. She’s in ward number 206. I’m heading there now. My steps are brisk, purposeful, but my legs feel shaky beneath me. Weak and unsteady. My mind keeps circling the same question, over and over, what in God’s name pushed Eme to take such a drastic step last night? Memory claws at me. Darcy’s call, late last night. Urgent. His voice was tight as he told me everything that went down in the ER. I’d been stunned. Completely alarmed for both of them. “You mean there was an uncontrollable vampire in the ER bay?” I had asked him over the phone. “And worse, Emerald played hero and saved him, all because of a damned kiss!” “We don’t know for sure if it was because of the kiss, my love.” Darcy had tried to calm me. “But we do know she spontaneously cut herself and fed him her blood.” Madness. “But that was insanity!” I’d cried out. Then he chuckled, amusedly and softly. That chuckle had infuriated me. “B

Emerald. Silvaton Ridge. Friday, 19th February. Three days later… Ford Mansion. The house feels so quiet in Dad’s absence. Not like it was ever truly noisy. But there was something about knowing he was here. Knowing he was constant. It made you feel safe. Feel whole. Now all that warmth is gone. All that remains is nothing. All that remains is Dad’s shadow. I walk into the living room, and his absence looms heavier here than anywhere else. My feet carry me absently to the swing he built for me years ago. The sense of loss presses down on my chest, crushing me. This is where we last argued. And I never got to mend things with him after that. I sit and I break down. Sobs rip out of me, violently and raw. My heart cracking open as memories storm through me, harsh and merciless. I don’t stop them. I let them drown me. “Dad… I’m so sorry…” I cry hoarsely. “Eme…” Mum’s voice comes from behind me. I jolt and whip around, startled. I hadn’t even heard her come