Moonlight In Chains Novels & Stories

The second her infant cry rent the air, announcing her birth, one of the three chains holding me bound loosened. Today, under the light of the full moon I could feel, she released me from the second chain. I just had to wait a little while longer for her to complete the keys: Blood moon, full moon, new moon. When all the chains are gone, I will awake. And once I am free, I will destroy everyone that was involved in dooming me to this accursed prison. It was the worst fate to be given to anyone. Being forced to slumber while your soul is still tethered to the earth so you are still awake but unable to do anything but think and wallow for years and years.

If my friend was here, maybe this was my chance to break free from this endless cycle of nightmares. I threw back the blanket—and froze. A steel chain was locked around my ankle, disappearing beneath the bed. I tried to rip it off, to wrench it free, but it wouldn’t budge. Meanwhile, Vera’s voice faded into silence. Had she left? No. No, please! I leapt from the bed and rushed toward the door. The chain was far shorter than it had seemed, and I crashed to the floor just a few steps short of freedom. Ruslan appeared in the doorway and looked at me with mild surprise.

He’s changed. “But what if he hasn’t?” she whispered aloud, voice dry and rough as gravel. “What if this is just another cage? Just built with softer chains?” Moonlight spilled in through the arched window, painting silver streaks across the stone floor. Her gaze drifted there, to the edge of the dresser where his pendant hung—the Luna’s symbol, engraved and cold. She rose and walked to it slowly, as though approaching prey. Her fingers trembled as they closed around the chain. It was cold, heavier than it looked, and radiated a weight far beyond its size.

My ankles are fixed the same way, spread wide enough that my body feels displayed rather than restrained. Panic flares, sharp, instinctive. Then it dims. Not because I control it. Because something else does. Chains. They glow faintly where they touch my skin. Not silver. Not steel. Moon-forged. I know it the way you know a storm before it breaks. The links are thin, almost delicate, each etched with symbols that shift when I focus too hard. At first, I think the metal is cold. Then I realize... It isn’t.

"During the full moon, especially the blood moon, the hunger intensifies. It's a primal urge, a transformation we can barely control." She shuddered, a flicker of fear crossing her features. "And the chains?" "The chains," I said, my voice rough. "They're a…precaution. On the blood moon, the pull is strongest. We chain ourselves to something strong, something anchored to reality, to keep ourselves from…" I trailed off, the image of the feral beast I could become too horrifying to contemplate. Skylar's hand reached out, her fingers brushing mine in a gesture of silent support. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt through me, a welcome distraction from the darkness threatening to consume me.

POV: Rhea Mooncrest "Ash... don't look at me. Please, don't look at me." Rhea’s voice wasn't her own; it was a discordant chorus of a thousand shattered mirrors. The silver chains were no longer just metal; they were conduits of ice-cold agony, pumping the witches' restrictive magic directly into her marrow. The Blood Moon above felt like a heavy, lidless eye, staring down at her naked soul, judging the darkness she had invited in.

Except for this one time I was caught by my own demons and then he ran to dine on seven tourists who were so unfortunate to camp near our home on the night of the full moon. And well, last night. But last night’s incident was even more shocking. The chains did not hold on. The chains that always restrained his beast from losing control, the ones that our fathers used. For thousands of years, these chains stood, unbroken. Strong and laced with silver to hurt just enough if it came to that. But they snapped clean. So I did what I could only afford to do. I waited. The night rolled away and the sun rose beyond the horizon.

Only the mark remained, glowing red in the firelight. Flames and screams twisted into something new, yet terrifyingly familiar. The heat faded, replaced by a sudden chill. Smoke lifted, revealing a night sky painted crimson—blood-red and burning with its own light. My heart skipped. The scene grew clearer. The pack house had transformed into the grounds of the mating ceremony. Wolves of Night Crescent gathered in tense ranks, fangs bared—not in celebration, but in fear. At the center, Alec and Amanda stood beneath the rising blood moon, their forms illuminated in a sinister glow.

Inside lay a delicate silver bracelet set with moonstones and a folded note in unfamiliar handwriting. *For when you're ready to know the whole truth. -J* The cryptic message made me frown. I lifted the bracelet, surprised by its weight despite its delicate appearance. The moonstones seemed to glow with an inner light, responding to my touch. "Another riddle," I muttered, but slipped it onto my wrist anyway.

If I don't get out of here now, it would be me next. Slowly, I took some steps backward, looking around for an outlet or a place I could hide. It was past midnight and the moon's light was the only source of illumination. Thorns and woods are what filled my pathway and I didn't know where to turn to. With my mother's last words still reeling in my head, I cleared a path along the woods with my hand as I ran. Ignoring the thorns and rough tree barks, that pickled me, I ran like my life depended on it.