Masonic Blazing Star Novels & Stories

And how could Seven betray me like this, after everything? Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps approaching, accompanied by a familiar scent. Panic gripped me. I crawled back to where I had hidden the dagger, clutching it tightly in my hand. "Sir, no one is allowed to enter. The Alpha’s orders," I heard the guard say. "I’m the Alpha’s son and the future Alpha of this pack. Are you really going to deny me entry?" His voice was cold and authoritative.

“This has to be it.” “That's where they are making the weapons that's harming our people.” I said, stomach twisting with each word. Elder Maris exhaled sharply. “Let me translate the text and symbols beneath it.” She ran her fingers over the text, her lips moving silently before she began speaking aloud. “‘Where the moon dares not shine, the flames remain eternal. To those who seek destruction’s heart, beware the storm that guards the path.’” A shiver ran down my spine.

The words were archaic, imbued with power: "Corda aetheris coniungantur, animus et corpus unum fiant. Ut potentia sit integra, et voluntas sit pura." As she chanted, Blaze's body began to glow, a soft, silver-white luminescence enveloping him. His eyes closed, his face serene yet intense. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, now glowing a deep, ethereal purple. The limbal rings around his irises shimmered and transformed into a vibrant silver flame, flickering and dancing like living fire. The room vibrated with the sheer force of the energy being channeled.

Eventually, they manage to gain a smidgen of control and in unison they raise their heads, staring at me. I gasp when I see their sharp canines fully protruding out of their mouths and their eyes… Their eyes are stained purple. “She will never accept us,” Blaze’s friend growls in a strained tone. “The Moon Goddess has cursed us by fate, testing our loyalty to both her and our pack.”

they say in unison, bending at the knees with their veiled heads bowed. No one but the Mystics call me High Lord. I’m not even sure what they mean by it. Occasionally, I’m addressed as High Priest, but only by them. To the Order of the Moon Goddess, the priestesses of the Church, I’m just Prince Blake. But the Mystics are something else entirely, despite being able to live in unison with their religious counterparts. It’s a symbiotic relationship, I suppose. The Mystics divine the stars and heavens, and the priestesses bear witness to their findings, relaying it to the world at large.

Maybe the gods think I look pretty this way. A gasp escaped me as I turned my neck to get a better view. My fingertips brushed against a beautifully intricate design that adorned my skin. It was a crescent moon, its delicate details awash in an array of enchanting blue shades. Stars, each unique, encircled the moon like constellations painted by a celestial artist. At the edge of the crescent, a pitch-black wolf stood, head thrown back as it howled at the moon. My mate’s initials are written below the mark.

I was halfway through the stairs when his voice boomed. "Goodnight too Marvelous thanks for signing a deal with the devil." I turned back to look at him. He winked going to the opposite direction. Signing what? And sure from that night, I knew I indeed signed a deal with the devil himself. ...

someone whispered. "It’s a 'V'. For Varkane," I said, my gaze meeting Lucien’s. "From every angle, the stars realign to show who owns the light. And with a single flick of the clasp, the crescent moon sigil expands into a full-moon blast radius." The room went silent. Then, one by one, the advisors began to clap. Lucien didn't clap. He just sat there, his eyes burning with a dark, satisfied pride that felt like a brand on my soul.

Mason stood up without another word and plugged the main transformer link into the wall, instantly illuminating the compact living space with the warm, brilliant glow of a dozen white snowflake displays. “You know what?” he said, clapping a heavy hand against my shoulder to ground my senses. “This winter cycle, we are establishing a solstice celebration that belongs exclusively to our circle. No arrogant, corporate Alpha husband. No terrifying matriarch lurking in the shadows.” I tracked his attempt to project an air of absolute pack authority, and for the first time in weeks, a genuine laugh cleared my throat. “Deal.” I silently resolved that I would navigate my way to St. Mary’s Private Ho

The tattoo was his art, his design, and also the image of what he carried inside him every day the image he now carried on his back, that moved with him. Nikolai name was inked with intricate, beautiful calligraphy letters, while nico name was bold, broken, and bleeding into the flames. He loved his brother, but hated himself. There was a single crack in the headstone right at the top of the cross. The flames that engulfed the cross from the ground were blood red, angry shades of orange, its only goal to destroy while his name suffered its wrath.