Breath Of The Moon Novels & Stories

**The Silent Treatment** Elder Thorne stood beneath the ethereal glow of the moonlight, his heart swelling with both reverence and awe as he faced the moon goddess, a divine figure of unmatched beauty and power. Her silvery robes flowed around her like a celestial waterfall, shimmering gently as the soft breeze rustled the leaves overhead. The moon's radiant light poured forth, illuminating the sacred glade where he had ventured, his spirit filled with hope and purpose, seeking the moon goddess's wisdom to guide Caden, the young alpha, in his quest for a suitable luna.

Run, or prepare for death and destruction. Layla doesn't know any of this, and after the attack a few days ago, I wonder if that is a coincidence or a sign as to what is ahead in our future. I turn to her as she sits here admiring the stars and the night sky. I look around and see the fireflies have stopped doing their dances, the toads have stopped croaking, even the crickets have stopped singing. The wind is too calm, like the calm before the storm. Everything seems to have stopped with bated breath, waiting for the moon's tears to come to an end. I feel tense, unsure, and angry. Why must this happen now? Just when I have found what could possibly be my happiness.

Blood Moon is a lie and a truth at once. The moon doesn’t bleed; we do. But the sky does turn to a bruise, and the light does arrive wrong—thick, red, as if the night has held its breath too long and is ready to exhale something we can’t swallow.

“Something smaller. Something that can cross before He does. A feeler. A thorn. A child.” Baylee’s stomach turned, bile rising. “No.” “Listen,” the Moon whispered, sudden urgency flaring in Her voice. “Listen to Me, Baylee Vale. He will send something that is not Him. It will beg.” Baylee’s breath caught. “It will smell like the ones you cannot lose,” the Moon said. “It will use their faces. It will use their voices. It will tell you, ‘just open the door a little, just a little, just enough to let me through so I can stay, so I don’t have to go back.’ It will cry. It will scream. It will tell you you are cruel if you say no.”

Amara's POV The moon hung low in the sky, a perfect, luminous orb casting its silver light across the surface of the lake. It shimmered, a living, breathing tapestry of liquid starlight, its surface disturbed only by the soft, lapping rhythm against the shore. The cool night air, thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, was a stark contrast to the heat that had been building inside me all day. I stood at the edge, bare-chested and rooted to the spot, my gaze a fixed point on the water.

Chapter Four: Whispers in the Flame The wind in Moonshadow smelled of pine and smoke. Lyra stood barefoot in the Circle of Embers—an ancient clearing ringed with smooth black stones and flickering torches. The sky above was black velvet, pierced with stars. Tonight marked the new moon. A time for rebirth. For truth.

Jasmine stood still as they did, her chest heaving, her palm bleeding, her robe fluttering against her thighs like the wind couldn’t stop trying to taste her. And somewhere, high above, the moon watched. Full. Bright. Complicit.

Her voice lingered in the air, faint and haunting, carried by the wind. “Find me before the moon rises.” Kaelen’s chest heaved. He closed his eyes, his fists curling against the ground. “I will.” The Harvest Moon blazed overhead — and the world trembled as if listening.

They watch us go, silent, as if hoping our movement will drag the future in behind us. The horse picks up speed, its breath pluming in the cold. My hands are steady on the reins now, and the letter sits heavy against my breastbone—a promise, or a dare. Above, the last edge of sun slips behind a curtain of black clouds, and the Wound opens before us, dark and waiting. What does peace look like, I wonder, when the world has forgotten its shape? I ride, and I do not look back again.

One more— Breath.