Lunar Whispers Novels & Stories

The world spun violently, then started to fade at the edges. I tried to crawl out of the shallows, fingers digging into wet sand and pebbles, but my arms wouldn’t hold me. Blood trickled down my temple, warm against the freezing water. Crystal’s voice was distant now, fading. "Nova… hold on…" My vision blurred. The roar of the river grew softer, muffled, like I was sinking underwater even though I was on the bank. The last thing I saw before everything went black was the moon—bright, cold, indifferent—watching me from above the cliff I just fallen from.

I whispered. But Arnold continued mercilessly. “I, Alpha Arnold Reid of the Nightshade Pack…” My vision blurred. “…reject you, Leticia Hales of Frostfall Pack…” The mate bond snapped through my chest like something tearing apart inside me. “…as my Luna.”

One page at a time. One person at a time. One still, deep, patient day at a time. Until the water found its level. And the room became real. And the invisible all the invisible became seen. THE SILENT LUNA End of Volume One

the other said while still carrying the tube. The other stopped walking and looked back to where the tube came from. "Veer," his companion called him. "What is it, Lorja?" Veer asked without facing him. Lorja seems to smell something from the basement and keeps sniffing to find out where it is. "Do you smell what I smell?" Lorja asked Veer. Veer looked puzzled while still holding the tube. "Smell? What is it?" Veer asked. "Food smell! Whiwhiwhi," a smile played on Lorja's lips as he jumped for joy.

"Luna, what's happening? This darkness feels... unnatural." Luna's voice carried with an air of determination. "I sense a presence. Something ancient and powerful." She extended her hand, letting the energy from the crystal flow through her. A soft glow emanated from her palm, casting a faint light in the pitch-black darkness. Elias gripped his silver dagger, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Stay alert, everyone. We don't know what we're up against." Silent whispers began to fill the chamber, echoing from the depths of the darkness. Luna's heart raced as she recognized the voice. It was a voice from her dreams, a voice that spoke of love and desire.

In Abigail’s heart of hearts, she already knows, she has a special admiration for Debbie since the day they met. Abby hasn’t forgotten the days she felt the special connection, though it may not mean anything to Debbie but mere thoughtless words. She can vividly recall; it was their first meet up, as Debbie whispers to her ears and said, “I prayed for you when you’re sick.” Abigail was puzzle when Debbie did know she was sick; in fact, she was not ill during that time. It remains a mystery to Abby why did Debbie whisper those words. It was a sweet melody that touches her soul.

She argued that with vampirism, witchcraft, and senses of werewolves combined, we will be indestructible. “Niklaus was made with witch powers! Powerful with powers at that! And you think a bite from him would produce the same results?” Lucianna screamed once again, seeking for the attention to be diverted to her. I hid my claws when I saw my aunt averted her gaze to my cousin, Lucianna. I immediately sat beside Natyaramona and assisted her into standing up. Her breaths were heavy and sharp, panting and almost begging for the last of it.

I pictured those same tits in my hands, her body twisting and moaning while I slapped them until they bounced and turned red. “Mother, what is going on?” Darius asked, snapping me out of the filthy haze. “Haven’t you noticed something strange about your city Luna?” He frowned, glancing between me and his mother. “What is strange?” “She has no scent,” his mother said. “I noticed it yesterday. She is fooling you.” Darius turned to me, “I noticed that too, Lyra. Why don’t you have a scent?” Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

She was listening—not with her ears, but with the part of her that had once felt Selene’s whisper through stone and blood. And then the pup shifted. A soft whine escaped its tiny throat. Its silver eyes fluttered open. And the Moon mark on Lunaria’s shoulder tingled. The air around them shimmered. Not violently. Not dangerously. But undeniably. Kael stepped closer. “Lunaria…” She stood slowly, cradling the pup carefully. The mist around them seemed to draw inward, as if pulled by an invisible thread. The pup lifted its head. And the mist… moved.

The way I believe in my own hands, which are stronger than they were, which have learned what they can build and what they can hold. Luna is seven months old. She has silver eyes and a loud voice and her father's stubborn jaw and a laugh that Mara says can be heard from across the pack grounds, which Mara says with enormous satisfaction. She has never been afraid of anything that I can tell. She arrived in the world furious and curious and has maintained both qualities consistently. She has two packs who know her name. The forest that borders her home glows silver at night, and the Moon Goddess's light is steady above it.