Moonlight Sculptor Novels & Stories

It rises higher and higher, light glinting off the surface of it. The surface that holds a sculpture like nothing I have seen before. It is one of the Moon Goddess and her wolves. In her hand, she holds the moon, which is shaped like a bowl, glowing with soft ethereal light. The wolves around her seem to hold the moon with her...or bear the weight of it with her. Chancellor Vesper stops a couple of feet away from her, but the Grand Mistress stops right in front of it. Her hand rises to hover atop the bowl and her voice cuts across the stadium, raspy and ancient as she chants in a language I don't understand.

Drake Calloway still picked on me, followed by cold laughter from the other boy and the wolf. “Stop it, Drake.” Nathan came between us. “Why don’t we all go to the spring? I heard the Moon Goddess sometimes appears in the Full Moon.” “You still believe that bedtime story?” Bryan Waltz, the one with curly hair, chuckled. He patted the wolf next to him. “I think even Elliott no longer believes it—and he’s only ten.”

Running in heels isn't that difficult, I must say. I held a small box in my hand wrapped with some shiny paper and yellow ribbon on top, the birthday girl's favorite color. The only present that I could afford for her was this handmade pendant that was her name molded with metal wire, with a rose quartz shaped as a crescent Moon, fixed on the top of her name's last 'A'.

Then the strangest thing happened, slowly the moon began to descend from the sky right before my eyes and as it did, it got small and smaller until finally, it came in through the open roof and went straight into the orb that was in the woman’s hand. The orb gave off a soft silvery glow at first before it exploded with a bright light that made me shield my eyes. The eye of the statue lit up too and then it spoke to me, “Javier, the first mate of the chosen one.” I still shielded my eyes until the light dimmed and I could see again, “Who the hell are you? What am I doing here?” “I am Lunar, the goddess of the moon and the mother of all werewolves, Lycans, and otherwise.”

Each arch shimmered with a different color. Blue, rippling like a river. Red, flickering like flame. Green, alive with curling vines and the smell of fresh soil. White, moving with invisible currents of air that made Luna’s skin prickle. At the center, where the Moonlight struck, lay a simple stone disc, etched with the crescent that had once burned itself into her skin. Luna’s breath caught. Her heart hammered. No one else stood with her. No Orion. No pack. No ancestors, visible at least.

The crowd grew quiet, waiting as she began to speak. “Under the full light of the Moon Goddess, we gather,” she intoned in a calm voice. “To bind two souls in unity, strength, and eternal loyalty. Tonight, Alpha Alec of Night Crescent Pack and Amanda Graymoon of the Graymoon Pack join as one — bound by blood, by vow, and by destiny.” Elder Rowan stepped forward and dipped his staff into the glowing moonwater. He lifted it, letting droplets fall onto the altar stone, making a hissing sound before turning into a thin silver mist.

They screamed warnings, urgent and insistent, like drums pounding to war. Selene looked down at her hands, trembling in the pale glow. The moonlight clung to them like a second skin, dripping and curling along her knuckles. They were beautiful, terrifying, as though sculpted from silver fire. Once she had taken comfort in this intimacy with the moon, in the way its light had always felt like a companion. The moon was her confidante, her constant, her unseen mother. She had spoken to it since she was a child, asking questions of its silent face and receiving comfort in the hush that followed.

And I couldn’t stop staring, drinking in the sight of that sculpture of masculine beauty and power. If one didn’t know, they’d think that he is the Blood Moon Alpha. The worst is: even with all those clothes, all I could think of was that hot, sinewy bod underneath. The Moon Goddess had struck again. Here I am giving my warmest welcome hug to my future step-aunt while lusting over her mate. I’m in hell.

Dorian froze mid-motion, wiping grease from his hands. “Mira?” he repeated softly. “She died three Winter Solstices ago.” “You’re lying.” Rowan’s face twisted, disbelief flickering into anger. “I can smell her scent in that room.” “I’m not lying.” Dorian pointed toward the alley beyond the tavern. “three Winter Solstices ago, the family from that malpractice case cornered her there—under the blood moon. They used silver-forged blades, cut deep until her wolf couldn’t heal.

The moon hung low in the sky, its soft, lunar glow bathed the landscape in an ethereal light, casting long shadows that stretched like dark fingers across the ground. The balcony, where Reyes stood tall and still, vulnerable and exposed, was bathed in a silver radiance that highlighted the contours of his naked form. His silhouette was stark against the moonlit backdrop, a study in contrasts of light and dark. The shadows danced around him, like dark spirits swirling at his feet.