Novel & Cerita Bluudude Forsaken Fanart

Serenia shuts her eyes and looks away from him, unable to meet his gaze when all the pieces in his head click into place. “Oh, does he not know?” Aurora asks, taking note of Serenia’s pained and ashamed face, and turns to Harbin with a grin now. “Little Serenia here is such a poor excuse of a demi-god, she can’t even be called a werewolf.” Here we go…Harbin will never look the same at me again. “My brother rejected her as his mate the moment he found out, she can’t even manifest her own wolf at her age. She will be a terrible choice as the next High Lu-”

Not just from wolves. From warriors. Disciplined. Measured. Not the wild scrapes of a starving rogue. These were meant to break through defenses. Quickly. Cleanly. “Gamma,” Micah calls. “You’re going to want to see this.” I follow his voice toward the barn. What’s left of it. On the far side of the scorched wall, scrawled in blood, is a symbol. An old one. A crest with three vertical slashes through a crescent moon.

"My daughter suffered humiliation in that savage tribe for five years! I'll wipe Blackrock off the map!" "There's no need." I stood up, my silver hair shimmering in the moonlight. "It's all over." But the spiritual link I’d severed with my secret arts would only last seven days. It was already the sixth. That night, I knelt in the deepest part of the Moon Goddess temple. "Great Moon Goddess, I beg you, completely sever this fated bond." The moonlight suddenly blazed, and a majestic voice echoed, "A fated bond cannot be severed. It is an imprint on your very souls."

There he was. Ronan. Alpha of the Ashfang pack. Towering. Wet. Dripping. A towel slung low on his hips like it belonged there, casually disrespecting every ounce of self-control I had left. His abs were carved from stone. His waist? Unfair. A tattoo curled around his arm and crept slightly over his chest, like it had a story it was dying to whisper. I didn’t even want to think about how good he looked soaked and glistening like a forbidden rain god. “I—I—I saw nothing!” I yelped, clamping my eyes shut like that could erase what had just burned itself into my memory.

Damon's POV) My jaw tightened as I stood in my study, staring at the untouched bourbon on my desk, hoping it would erase the memories. Outside, the moon hung low, casting a pale light over the courtyard, where Isabel had once danced barefoot beneath the stars before I pushed her into the shadows. I hated myself for it, but I despise the idea of her belonging to someone else. The image of her tangled in Blake's arms lingered in my mind, refusing to fade. Her skin was bare, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted in soft surrender as she lay against him, leaving a haunting image. None of it fit. None of it made sense. She rarely spoke to him and never gave him a smile, let alone a glance worth

ALL THE SUPPORT FROM YOU KEEPS ME GOING UNTIL THE END AND IS ALSO THE REASON I WILL KEEP GOING. THANKS. SEE YOU SOON, ROFEEAH: THE CREATOR OF HER UNIVERSE.

Chapter 11: The Enemy's Plan Kael's POV The night was still, yet I knew a storm was brewing. Not the kind that came with wind and rain, no this one was different. This was a storm of power shifting, borders being tested, and blood would spill. I stood in my study, staring at the map of territories stretched across my desk. My gaze lingered on the Silverfang Pack's lands, their borders marked clearly in dark ink. Lucian Blackwood ruled there, and for too long, he had acted as if he were untouchable.

Hello my friends! I apologize for not updating this week. There were some unexpected, yet happy changes in my family and I've been with my family out of town celebrating. This time off is also helping me get my outlines for the final arc of Forsaken Mate. That's right, we are nearing the end of this story. I want to go out with a bang and make sure it is interesting for you all. I really appreciate all the support you've given me for my first GoodNovel story. I'll be sure to make a proper thank you at the end!! Until then, Elizra

Moving in perfect formation. They parked in a semicircle around the square. Doors opened simultaneously. Wolves poured out. Thirty or forty, all in fighting form wearing Thorne Pack colors. Then Damien stepped out of the lead vehicle. He looked different, like something dangerous. His eyes swept the square and locked on me. "Sera." "You're not welcome here," Marcus said before I could respond. "I'm not here for your permission." Damien pulled out a scroll. Actual parchment. "I carry divine authority from the Moon Goddess herself. This territory is under investigation for harboring Silverblood abominations. I have the right to…"

Just endless darkness and the sound of the Puppet Master’s laughter echoing through my mind. “Do you see now, Sera?” its voice hissed, cold and mocking. “This is your fate. You cannot escape it. You cannot escape me.” I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to focus, to push back against the pain and the fear. I couldn’t let it win. I couldn’t let it destroy everything I loved. I closed my eyes, drawing on every ounce of strength I had left, and felt the artifact’s power stir within me, a flicker of light in the darkness.