Moon Of The Crusted Snow Novels & Stories

The Moon Goddess turned slowly, fury colder than winter itself. “You dare.” The creature smiled sweetly, cruelly. “I do.” THE SHATTERING The Goddess unleashed a howl of pure lunar wrath. The moon overhead tore through the clouds. Silver rivers of light poured down from the heavens. The ground crystallized into glowing frost. Every pack for miles felt the surge. Every wolf dropped to its knees, bowing by instinct. Every living thing trembled. Except— the creature. It lifted Aria’s hand. White fire spiraled outward, eating the light.

Selene’s voice was barely a whisper, a thread of sound in the vast, still air. The crater was a perfect circle of fused quartz, glowing with a faint, residual heat. In the very center, where the pillar of nothingness had stood, there was no body. There was no blood. There was only a single, vertical sprout of a tree, its bark as white as bone and its leaves a shimmering, translucent silver. And nestled in the crook of its first two branches was a small, scorched wooden wolf. The Audit of Peace Months turned into seasons. The "Great War of the Crescent Moon" became a story told to children to keep them from fearing the dark, rather than a living nightmare.

He bared his sharp teeth, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. Rohan, a lone and ruthless rogue wolf, stood at the edge of a cliff, his eyes fixed on the night sky. The full moon illuminated his rugged features, revealing the weight of memories etched on his soul. He was lost in the past, reliving the fateful day when his family was banished from the Moonstone Pack by Ryder's father, Alpha Damien.

She just continued to act based on his order. “Come here, tribute. And tell me what you see.” Arkhael guided her to the observation deck. From that height, Nesca could see the snow-capped mountains covered in black mist, their peaks piercing the crimson clouds above, as the light of the blood moon reflected from the sky. Arkhael stood beside her, his long black hair flowing behind him as the cold wind swept through the tower. His eyes remained fixed on the foot of the mountain, where an enormous barrier shimmered faintly under the Blood Moon.

It was a cozy quiet room and it smelled like old books. Lyle walked straight to the desk and pulled the desk chair out. Amaris could see the desk in front of her was a carved ornate piece, that was most likely very old. It too, like many of the things that she had seen in this place, had scenes depicting trees and woods and wolves on mountain tops. While Lyle was doing something at the back of the desk, Amaris took the time to look at the carving in the center of the front of the desk. It was a wolf who appeared to be glowing on a mountain top under a very large full moon. Further down the piece, there was a wolf clearly injured at the glowing wolf’s feet and below that there were men and wo

Shadow wolves howled. And an ancient force, long buried beneath the Frost Mountains, began to stir. —A SIGN FROM THE MOON As Ava slept, the moon bled crimson overhead. She woke breathless. And in the night sky, drawn in clouds of glowing silver flame, she saw it: A symbol of two wolves. One in fire. One in frost. Circling. Colliding. And in the center… a crack in the heavens.

The coven wanted to get closer, as did Esmee and Rodolf, attracted by its power. ‘Stay away from it!’ Moon warned fiercely. Her look was concerned, but her eyes also sparkled with the appeal of the crystal. Maddie took it in her hand and turned to Omem, Liza, Anke and Jente. Esmee had Rodolfs hand. ‘Chriostail dhubh mura h-eil e (Black crystal if not clear) Seall do dath fhíor (Show your true colors) Air a ghlacadh ann am boghafrois

That's the kind of person I strive to be, and that's what keeps me fighting, clinging to this fragile thread of life with all that I am. In the encompassing darkness that envelopes my vision, the moon's celestial radiance pierces through, unveiling the divine presence that stands before me. It's as if the moon itself has taken form, radiant and ethereal, with fur that shimmers like stardust, and an aura of maternal warmth that envelops me. This is the Moon Goddess, the legendary figure woven into the tapestry of werewolf folklore. And here she stands, materialized before me, in all her majestic glory.

“Though I should warn you, the Tea contains elements that are rare outside the southern territories. Moonflowers that bloom only under specific lunar phases, herbs that grow only in the high meadows of our territory.” “We’ll find them,” Lukas assured her, his hand finding mine and squeezing gently. “Whatever it takes.” “Tell me more about the Crescent Moon Pack,” I said, the words emerging before I’d fully formed the thought. “About... where I’m from.” Something softened in Alara’s face, a tenderness that made her look suddenly maternal despite her ageless beauty. “Our territory lies in the southernmost reaches of werewolf lands, nestled within the Silver Crest Mountains. Three crystal-clear

“You didn’t even last a week without him and you’re back in the gutter! What a Luna!” “You don’t know a thing about it Corina! Now shut up!” “I wonder if I’ll be able to hear the whip cracks from here…” I waited for hours. Right up until dawn I held out hope. My face went numb with the cold, painfully sticking to the metal at one point. The almost circular moon was yellow for a change, appearing mystifyingly warm above the crisp, white snow.