Hang The Moon Novels & Stories

She raised her hands. They glowed faintly, threads of Water and Fire, Earth and Air coiling around her fingers in instinctive readiness. White light flared ahead, and the darkness peeled back to reveal a sky. A sky wronger than anything she had seen when the stars had wept. The Moon hung low. Too low. Huge, filling almost the entire dome of night. Its surface, usually serene and linted with craters like old fingerprints, was marred. A jagged crack split it nearly in half.

Guller sat cross-legged near the edge, watching the sky. Above us, the Shattered Moon hung in the darkness. Eight hundred and forty-seven fragments. "It looks broken," I whispered. Breaking the comfortable silence. "It looks like it hurts." "It does not hurt," Guller’s voice rasped softly—he spoke aloud tonight. "It is merely... changed. It is still beautiful." "It is scattered," Barzil corrected grimly. "Chaos waiting to fall." "It is a puzzle," Wolfy added. Sliding the slide of his pistol home. Click. "Gravity holds it together. Just barely."

The moon was still rising, casting a silver glow over everything. I looked down at my hands, and they were no longer human. They were claws, sharp and deadly. What had I done? And then, I saw something that made my heart skip a beat. A figure standing in the shadows, watching me. Who was it? And what did they want from me? As I stood there, frozen in fear, the figure began to move towards me. And then, everything went black.

his grandfather causing Mathias to as indeed if it was just him the night they had met with Nathalia he should have jumped her bones and marked her already but from the way things were turning out if he would have tried stuff like that he just might have lost her because she would not have wanted to be with him because she would have known that he must have just assaulted and used her just the same way as she had been used when at the rogues camp. And the trust she was willing to have with him now was never going to happen. And hse would have rejected him as her mate and when he would have been rejected the Silent Moon might have just lost their leader as he probably would have died or becom

Meg The Harvest Moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the pack lands. It was a night of celebration, but tension simmered just beneath the surface. The party was in full swing, with music and laughter echoing through the estate, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere that had plagued us recently.

Not from the cold, but from disgust of her past action. *** After making several small jumps to get to the tip of the hanger and unhang the meat, Moon’s face began to pale and her lips were getting dry. It looks just like someone had kept it far from her reach on purpose. Her already reddened and puffed-up eyes from crying before began to conjure tears all over again. On this final jump, she got her hand pierced and offered a low ouch, shaking severely from the crown of her head to her feet. Startled by the sudden warmth she felt, she had wanted to turn abruptly but was kept in place.

The moon hung like a bleeding eye in the sky, full and swollen, casting a silver heat across the courtyard stones. The night air pulsed with tension. Jasmine stood in the middle of Blackfang's sacred arena, not in chains, not bound... but wrapped in silk that clung to her curves like a whispered sin.

*Thorn* The moon hangs high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the villa that now feels like our sanctum, a place where dreams intertwine with reality. The air is heavy with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, wafting in from the garden that sprawls around us like an embrace. Teyla and I stand together on the balcony, the sounds of the evening rustling around us… a soft breeze whispering secrets of love and promises yet to be fulfilled.

I don’t see myself ever forgetting, but maybe for a few moments Moon can chase the demons away. Moon lifts me up in his arms, cradling me for a moment before he tosses me on the bed. A small scream escapes me and I laugh at the suddenness. The laughter dies when his fingers go to his tie and he slides it from his neck, dropping it on my chest. I lick my lips.

Seven months and eighteen days, she carried her baby in her womb and he had stolen the breath of life from his lungs while he was inside of her. Evander knew that his wife wanted to be left alone. He could feel her need to be by herself for a bit in order to let herself break down. His wife is a strong and stubborn woman. She would hold herself together in front of others in order to keep her image, but once she was in solitude, she could truly allow herself to feel strong emotions. Doing what he did best, he ran outside to his barn and grabbed his bow and a sheath of arrows. He tossed both over his shoulder and ran deep into the woods behind their house. He would give his wife time to griev