Novel & Cerita Ivy Winters Jinkx Monsoon

She started seeing me as the enemy, like I was the worst person in the world. Sometimes, I was confused. Was being labeled a jinx more important than blood and family? Wasn't I Mom's precious daughter? The conditions in the psychiatric ward were bad. The walls were cracked, and the air was thick with unpleasant smells. Mom was kept in a tiny room. Ironically, it didn't have a window either. Her hair was a mess. Sometimes she was lucid; other times, she was completely out of it. When the nurse brought her medication, she'd scream in terror, "Jinx! Jinx! Stay away from me!"

"So what's your thing? Everyone has a thing. Sports? Theater? Secret underground DJ career? Competitive chess? I need to know immediately." The question lands differently than she probably intends it to. Back home, my thing was so self-evident it barely needed a name. Everyone in my world knew Silver Preston. The skater. The junior champion. The Olympic hopeful whose entire identity could be compressed into a single word. Now I am sitting on a narrow dorm bed with my knee brace visible beneath my jeans and I genuinely do not know how to answer the question. "None of those," I say. Americus looks scandalized.

Alex and Jessica both were warriors and were dedicated to the Pack. Lacie went with black leather pants, a lace black top with a cami underneath and black heels. Lily was sporting a green leather mid-thigh dress with short sleeves and black ankle boots. Monica was all black – black mini skirt with black corset style top and black heels. I chose my signature black skinny jeans, black tank with my black leather jacket and black leather heeled boots.

Jax replied while the brothers went back in the office. He walked back in after his call. "So? Any takers on talking?" "We don't know anything! Besides, you guys don't torture women." Ivy replied smugly. "Not us brothers, no. But I have a secret weapon I use for women. And she'll be here shortly." Jax grinned. About fifteen minutes later the office door opened and Vixen his mom walked in. This woman was 5'11" and weighed about 195lbs. She's a force not to mess with!

I just want to disappear into my bunk and pretend I don't exist. I open the door and... nothing. The room is empty, but it’s a disaster zone. Red solo cups are scattered across the floor, the smell of musty beer and cheap weed hanging deep in the air. Jax is out. Probably at some frat house, looking for girls and more trouble. I’m alone. I don’t turn on the lights. I don't need to. I know the way to my side of the room by heart. I strip off the janitor’s jumpsuit, feeling the bite of the winter air on my skin.

The forest was alive with silver. Moonlight dripped through the bare branches like liquid frost, pooling on the ground in pale, shimmering sheets. The Winter Moon—the brightest, coldest full moon of the year—hung heavy above the Winterwood, casting everything in a ghostlike glow. Lyra Whitlock paused at the treeline, breath fogging in the crisp air. Her heartbeat thudded unevenly beneath her cloak. This was her last moment alone before the festival. Before the ceremony. Before the pact that would bind her life to a man she’d never met.

A crescent moon nestled in faintly clouded glass, with three tiny snowflake crystals dangling from the edge like frozen stars. She reached out, fingers hovering just above it, heart tightening. WinterMoon. Her home. Or… the home she left behind. The sound of the crowd softened behind her. The music faded. That charm—that moment—was WinterMoon. The night skies. The quiet hush of snowfall on the hills. The scent of pine and frost and something wild. It was the silence of the woods and the hum of belonging. Her throat tightened. The warmth she’d felt only moments ago didn’t vanish—but it dimmed. The edges of it curled in on themselves. She didn’t touch the charm. She didn’t have to. Just lookin

The roar of the crowd was supposed to feel like home. Sebastian Cruz had spent fifteen years chasing that sound. The thunder of ten thousand voices shaking the rafters. The slam of bodies against plexiglass. The screech of blades carving ice. It lived in his bones. It pumped through his veins like blood. Tonight, it sounded like a funeral. 3 to 1. The scoreboard hung above center ice like a tombstone, glowing red with defeat. Vancouver Storm at home. Calgary Snow Wolves visiting. And the man responsible for two of those three goals was currently gliding past the Storm bench, his number 17 jersey a walking insult.

“Now tell me who you are and why did my spirits tell me to help you?” “My name is Ivory. I am the daughter of the Moon Goddess and Mother Nature. Their brother, Adron, is the God of the Underworld and has created a hybrid of vampires and werewolves. With them, he plans on killing all the other species and taking over Earth. My mission is to stop him. To do that, I need to get vampires, witches and werewolves to work together.” She looked between us for a whole minute before she spoke. “Are you hungry?” Turning around, she walked to her kitchen that was on the other side of the open floor plan.