American Horror Moira Novels & Stories

she laughed. "Thank you so much," I gave her a mock salute. "Where is your stepmother? Did she run away?" she asked eagerly. "No, the b*tch is alive and well. She is the leader of Mountain Pack." "Whoa!" She said with an amazed look on her face. "Your evil stepmom is Luna Kayana Constance. You are the Mira Constance, the supposed dead daughter that the pack is mourning," she pointed at me. "The one and only I smiled."

Not a person. A shape. Large. Bent. Almost sleeping. The air thinned. The lightbulb flickered overhead. Then it spoke. But not with a voice. With a feeling. A pressure in her chest, like grief given form. “You remember.” Moira fell to her knees. Memories crashed in. A chapel. Candles. A ritual. Her mother’s voice trembling in Latin. Blood on a white cloth. Something pulled from the earth, bound beneath the altar—and a promise made to keep it asleep.

The third day dawned with a heavy, oppressive air. Within Finlay’s chambers, Moira lay curled on his bed, her body trembling with pain. Her skin, usually luminous and glowing, had taken on a pallor that unsettled anyone who saw her. Her golden eyes were dull, clouded with hunger and anguish, and the sharp angles of her face looked more severe in her weakened state.

“And I suppose that could be true, although it seems to me you could say just as easily that they’re worthless because they revel in exploiting human depravity. Have you seen many of these films, Detective? They’re not only violent, they’re sadistic. Nothing but a parade of bodies being destroyed in every imaginable way. And they’re mostly women’s bodies. You don’t need to be a psychologist to see that they seem more like sick power fantasies than— I don’t know what you’d call it.” “Catharsis?” I offered. She softened a little more, and allowed another wry smile. “You really have been talking to James.” I smiled back. “Then I suppose it’s safe to assume you’re not planning on going to James’

Marcus cast his eyes down as his shame covered him like a new winter’s coat. “ For now,Noah, please just trust me.” For a while after Noah left his room, Marcus stared up at the ceiling, feeling like the lowest form of life for lying to his best friend. How could he possibly explain to him that his dad and new girlfriend were being haunted by an ancient spirit, the same one who haunted his gran and her sister years before? “ Hello Marcus.” The voice which suddenly interrupted his thoughts, was melodious and familiar. Marcus looked to his side and by the light of the moon beaming through the window, he saw her.

Classic Moira, she does it every time she is unpicking a problem or rooting out the truth of a situation, and she knows me too well still for a lie to pass her by unnoticed. ‘I’m going to rip his fucking head off, that’s what is going to happen.’ Tariq screams at them all. Little specks of spit fly through the air like missiles in the moon light and foamy white saliva gathers at the edges of his mouth. He looks almost rabid in his anger. ‘You will do no such thing. It is your own laws that state he must face your council of elders and they will decide his fate.’ Moira looks at me and her eyes darken. ‘He killed his mate Moira. He has the right to end this creatures miserable life. That is th

As I moved after her, I watched Moira grab Valda and went to throw her out of her way like she was nothing. Valda was able to bring up a dagger and stab her with a blade made of twisted silver wrapped around wood. It could kill or wound any vampire or werewolf if it hits the right mark. It was a deadly weapon in the hands of an assassin. With the blade sticking out of the top of Moira's chest she screamed in agony before throwing Valda to the side. Valda hit her head against the stone wall before falling to the ground while groaning. Moira slowed down before looking at the blade to pull it out of herself. At the sight of where the blade was, her delicate white flash was turning to an ash-gra

I was that shocked. 'If she was meant to stop the war between the werewolves and the vampires as the prophecy said 'calm and to cleanse, to repair and to restore', won't she have to be a vampire as well. If it was her destiny, she would have to be one, if not, there's nothing much she can do' Alex said, looking intently at Moira. Moira shrugged. 'I never said she wasn't a vampire' Moira said with a knowing look in her eyes. Arizona choked on the tea she was sipping and it took her sister, Alex, patting her back to calm her vigorous coughing.

The elevator door slid shut before he could recover. She collapsed against the wall, gasping. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Through the closing gap, she saw him standing there. Staring at his hand. Then at her. His eyes glowed green. “Run all you want, mama,” he said. His voice carried through the metal doors like a promise. “I’ll find you.” The elevator sealed shut. Mireya slid to the floor, tears streaming down her face. She’d just burned a vampire. And now he wasn’t going to let her go.

I felt the itch on my body but I didn’t experience shifting during the blood moon. I finally found Alarick, who was still drinking his beer. “Alarick.” I tapped his shoulders as he is now immersed in the moon’s energy. “What is it?” I saw his eyes turn from bloody red to silver. He is absorbing the power of the moon. “Y-you need to see this.” I led the way and started running back to the cell. When both of us entered the dungeon, I immediately opened the door and was confused by what I saw. “Is that?”