Dark Moon Blood Altar Novels & Stories

"Do you smell that?" "Yes," he replied, his voice tight. "Coming from ahead. About fifty yards." We crept forward, every sense on high alert. The smell grew stronger, and with it came something else. A feeling of dread, of something unnatural and wrong. We found it in a small clearing, hidden beneath overgrown vines and fallen leaves. A stone altar, ancient and weathered, covered in dried blood that gleamed black in what little moonlight filtered through the trees. "Moon Goddess," Rowan breathed. "This is a blood altar. I thought they were all destroyed."

When that happens, no power in any of the worlds will be able to stop me from giving myself completely to Aldrich. "So Skycharts," I repeat, looking at him with a smile. "The Blood Ritual needs to be performed when both the moons are at their brightest. The brightness of the moons is necessary to draw the dark out, as ironic as it sounds. As you know, our moons don't have the typical waxing and waning cycles like some of the other worlds. It's only by using a combination of Stargazing and tapping into my limited Clairvoyance abilities will I be able to predict the right time for the ritual." Aldrich scratches his chin thoughtfully. And I'm tempted to feel his gloriously rough chin under my f

signifies, Agatha, the first witch and the mother of all witches." Her eyes, serious. "What you are about to see is a secret that has been guarded for generations. These women are part of my coven, and they have been waiting for you." With a deep breath, Soraya pushed open the door. The room beyond was large and circular, it was illuminated by the warm glow of large candles arranged in a pentagram on the floor. The air was thick with the scent of incense. As Seraphine stepped inside, she recognized some of the women she had seen earlier in the village. They all stood in a circle, their faces illuminated by the flickering light. It turned out people from different packs were here, each woman

On the edges of the altar, tall candles of black wax burned steadily, their flames casting a soft, ethereal glow that lent an otherworldly aura to the surroundings. Hanging from the ceiling were clusters of brass bells, each one delicately engraved with runes and runes, their metallic chimes echoing softly as if whispering secrets of forgotten times. The bells swayed gently in the faint breeze, adding a musical undertone to the ambient sounds of the lair. They were all bare metals, they were not designed with silver nor good because werewolves hated these and could be killed by inhaling them. On the walls, shelves and alcoves displayed an assortment of fetishes and totems, animal bones, feat

Chapter 21: The Void Peaks trembled as a rift of crimson light tore through the dawn sky. Eclipseborn poured from it, their fur blazing with blood-red runes, claws dripping with shadow. Aria stood before the Crimson Altar, her palm still bleeding from binding the Blood Oath, her body humming with its dark power. Kael’s black wolf form bristled beside her, his fangs bared, while Lyra and Torin flanked them, battered but unyielding.

“Kaelira — look at me!” Her eyes met his — and the noise fell away. “Anchor to me,” he said. “Not them. Not the ghosts. Me.” Her breath hitched — and then, something inside her snapped into focus. The runes on her arms blazed brighter, twisting into a new pattern. She raised her hands and spoke the ancient words — the language of the first blood oath. “By the storm and by the flame, I bind the shadow to my name.” The ground cracked open. Light poured from her palms, slamming into the Echo and pinning it to the earth. It screamed — a sound like breaking worlds.

Valeborne’s clawed hand pierced through the ceiling, seizing a wavering alpha and crushing him to ash. “Swear now,” the god thundered, “or suffer.” Terrified, one by one, the wolves knelt before Lyra. Aiden gritted his teeth, his voice low. “We’re out of time.” Damon’s crimson eyes burned like coals. “Then we do this the hard way.” He unleashed a wave of shadow magic, sending half the hall sprawling. Aiden’s light clashed with Damon’s darkness, forming a brilliant vortex that engulfed the altar. The Crown of Shadows cracked, sending shards of midnight flying.

"Okay, Cal. We'll discuss that later. Now we have to get some rest. We still have work to do tonight for the ritual to summon the Moon Goddess." That night, Derek and Callum stood on a wooden platform his men had prepared. There was a large basin filled with water in front of them. Then, when the full moon rose high in the sky, Derek and Callum raised their hands high; they slashed their hands with a knife and dripped their blood into the basin. "Moon Goddess, I am Callum Abelard, Alpha of the Darkmoon Pack. Request you that our enemies may perish instantly." "Moon Goddess, I am Derek Abelard, Alpha of the Darkmoon Pack, asking you to return and give us double our strength so we can easily d

“Your grandmother was one hell of a witch.” Selene swallowed hard as she admitted. “She's not my grandma.” Romano smirked, said nothing and only looked at Selene amused. At the far end of the room, an altar stood. The moonlight hit it perfectly from outside, reflecting off a single crystal suspended above it. The crystal pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. Selene walked toward it. “What is this?” Romano’s expression changed. For once, no sarcasm. “That’s blood magic, not something your kind should touch.”

"You are unable to" The light and darkness clashed, trembling the whole mountain. My sight dimmed as energy flowed within me. The blood moon appeared to throb like a heartbeat, increasingly rapid. Then a crack appeared. A dazzling burst of white. All became quiet. When I opened my eyes, Dahlia had vanished. The altar lay in ruins. Yet the blood moon remained aloft, darker than before, resembling an exposed wound in the heavens. Seraphine tripped and fell next to me. "What actions did you take?"