Dark Moon: The Blood Of Vargr นิยาย & เรื่องราว

At least, he was merciful in that regard. Rather than stare at the silhouette of her best friend out there in the darkness alone, Nya turned her attention to the moon. The light was just missing Gavin now, but it would move momentarily, and he’d be bathed in the soft, warm glow of the Dragon Moon, and then, a shadow would pass across the orb, interrupting the beams, and the dragon would swoop out of the sky, his sharp talons sinking into Gavin’s flesh before the dragon plucked him away, flying up into the night sky with him and likely devouring him before he even reached his lair somewhere on the top of Scale Mountain to the west.

I suddenly felt as cold as the river of knives, Nastrond, where the Damned were felled and rotted eternally. I remembered more of the grueling vision of my Magicked reverie and shuddered, slamming down my brush and burying myself in white wolf fur blankets up to my chin as I was wracked with chilly, subarctic blues like the damned Beast herself. I closed my peridot green eyes to recall my monster's visage. There Queen Jarngrimr was, a black omen burning on my cornea, peering into the depths of my wicked soul. She pet my sunstained hair. She reached, deep within me, and plucked at the black rose within.

"I seek the power of Azserroke, Demon of the Darkness. Bring to me my other half, my blood, my soul, my sister in the womb. I offer you the blood to seek my desire. I offer you the power of this soul." The words seemed very straight forward and simple. I didn't know how all this mumbo jumbo worked, but if it was supposed to be straight forward, that wasn't exactly how I would have put it. The blood from my hand dripped on the bottom point of the star. Mila's body went rigid. Her mouth lifted to the sky in a terrible scream that raised goosebumps to my skin. The circle and symbols within glowed an eerie green.

Before he could react, her hand wrapped around his and a playful smile played on her face. “Thank you.” She said to him as she glanced at him with a smile on her face before staring ahead. “My pleasure,” Carl responded and his eyes darkened dangerously. … It was dark and the only sound that could be heard was that of the crickets and the rustling leaves that moved thanks to the wind. The atmosphere was quiet and it felt like the world had gone into eternal slumber as not even the sound of a human or animal could be heard. One would wonder if the grim reaper was passing by with his scythe, looking for a soul to harvest. The moon shone brightly, casting its bright light upon the deep darkness.

The room felt cozy and familiar, a comforting contrast to the cool night outside. Eva yawned as she entered the room and stretched her arms once more. "I think I could use a good night's sleep after all that swinging and enchantment." Luna chuckled softly and closed the door behind them. "Agreed," she said, her voice warm and tired. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The next morning, the soft light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, gently illuminating the room. Luna stirred in her sleep, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on her face. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stretched, letting out a contented sigh.

I gasped. Lunar Eclipse was more of a pack of mercenaries. No one knew the real names of the pack members, as they all had some sort of code name. The Alpha of the pack was known as Shadowstrike. Shadowstrike was considered the ultimate warrior, with skills that a normal werewolf didn’t possess. He could strike his opponents down with a single blow, but it wasn’t just because he was strong. There was a rumor that he could expel some sort of energy in his attacks that could knock someone down without ever touching them.

Their black armor, etched with silver runes, shimmered beneath the lantern light. My heart thrummed with power as I stepped forward, cloak swirling like a ripple of night. The scent of my minions, this legion of darkness washed over me in waves: leather, steel, earth. I felt the familiar surge of magic coursing through my veins, the heady rush that came with absolute control. Tonight, we would unleash the first wave of my dark creatures upon the Crimson Moon pack. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring the moment before the storm.

And Veyra, blood of the last sorceress and soul of the last white wolf, was the key to breaking through. She cut her palm without hesitation, letting her blood drip into the basin. The red of her life mixed with the moon's reflection, glowing brighter than it should've. She whispered the words from her mother's journal—ancient, guttural sounds that felt foreign in her throat but resonated in her bones. "Spirits of the past... come forth through blood and moon. Show me what I was. Show me what I will become." A wind whipped through the grove, but it came from nowhere—no natural direction, just a burst of energy that sent the flames of her circle flaring higher. The shadows twisted, bending li

The sky that night was not its usual silver. It was red. A blood moon loomed over the Lunar Pack, casting an eerie glow across the mountains. Shadows danced across burning huts. Screams pierced the air. Smoke curled high into the heavens—as if the stars themselves were mourning. Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around a crying infant—Snow. Her daughter. Her Moon Goddess reborn. “Zane!” she screamed, her voice raw with panic. “They’re coming!”

Crystals amplified, elixir poured on wounds prepped, dagger poised. The Blood Moon crested overhead through the vent, red light flooding, runes blazing. Veron sliced his palm, blood dripping, then hers—shallow cut on hand, crimson welling. He pressed wounds together, merging flows, chanting low, energy crackling. Isabella gasped awake, eyes snapping open, green irises flickering gold flecks, body arching against bonds, terror raw as she scanned chains, faces, the altar. Pinned firm, she thrashed, but she was held down by hefty men, my gaze locked sorry, useless.