Novel & Cerita Moonstruck Souls

And I have to let them. Wren nodded. Luan looked at her hands. At the grey skin. At the scars. Then I find another way. There is no other way. Then I make one. She stood up. She walked outside. The moon was high. Full in five days. She looked at the sky. I'm not letting anyone else die for me, she said. The moon did not answer. But the wolf did. It howled. And somewhere in the darkness, something howled back.

The moon hung low in the sky, its light pale and eerie, casting long shadows across the clearing. I could feel its pull deep inside me, just beneath the skin, wrapping itself around my every thought, my every breath. The power was there—growing, swirling, demanding to be unleashed. And yet, it terrified me. I had spent so long running from the truth, pretending that I could stay hidden from what I was becoming. But Maya’s words echoed in my mind, and Kael’s too—the mark, the Heartstone, the others.

Tonight, its grey walls are bathed in the soft shimmer of bistro lights strung across the grounds. But the brightest light of all is the one above us—the full moon, hanging clear and silver in the sky. A formal event beneath a full moon… with a werewolf. It feels almost too much like a fairytale. And yet, I can’t ignore what the stories say about werewolves on nights like this.

Alpha Reese must have also decided on having some of his men join us here and I don’t think it was a bad idea, especially if we fail on trapping the Moon Witch in her own realm. The first to step out of the SUVs was Christopher and he helped his mate out of the vehicle. It was crazy every time that I saw Luna Rayne’s mother because she was the spitting image of her and it was like she had barely aged, but being trapped in another world or realm may do that to you.

“No. Don’t even think it. There must be another way.” Iris shook her head. “I was reborn for this.” Scene 2: The Blessing of the Moon Spirit As Iris turned toward the Sacred Tree that had survived the carnage, a faint glow pulsed from its heart. A dying Moon Spirit emerged, a small wolf pup limned in silver light. It staggered forward, its tiny body weak. “Iris,” the Spirit whispered, its voice like a breeze through glass. “I have watched you… and chosen you. My light… my soul… will strengthen your Hollow Star.”

I don’t understand and look up at the moon-goddess. “Snows any Abby's healing ability was that they could heal would and scars from silver.” She looks at me with soft eyes. I turn and look at the wolf souls. “Thank you. I promise I will take good care of Moon.” They purr again, then slowly turn and walk away. I look back to the Moon-goddess who is smiling at me. “They never leave each other, they are the perfect match. Just like Moon and Hunter.” She says smiling and I nod my head.

The monsters within Hot breath floated in the darkness beside me; bittersweet from the lumpy, pink fruit being shoved into the bleeding mouth hungrily. A fresh scratch ran over a flushed cheekbone, the exposed wound being smothered with the juices of the fruit that dripped along the path underneath our feet. Sparkling eyes locked onto mine; so full of life and the ugliness of the world they had witnessed. How on earth did they belong to someone dead? “Pay attention, Moon” Royce gasped between mouthfuls of fruit, shining the torch he held over the area before us “this is no time to be dawdling.”

“Where is her soul now?” The Priestess walked toward the sacred moon basin. “Selaria's spirit was scattered after Malrik cursed her, but echoes of her power remain — sealed beneath the mountain where she once bound him.” “We will need to perform a ritual,” she continued. “One only possible under the Blood Moon — which rises in three nights.” Autumn nodded fiercely. “Tell me what to do.”

The first line snagged my breath: “Where the Lock bleeds and the Keyhole binds, the Door will open. And beyond it waits the Nameless Moon.” My throat tightened. I read on, entranced. “The Nameless Moon is not a god. It is not a beast. It is what remains after the First Wolf devoured the sky and choked on the stars. It is hunger, memory, madness. And it does not knock. It waits.” --- Ronan I hovered behind her, my hand resting on her back, anchoring her as her breath quickened with danger. “This is what Mason wants to resurrect,” I spoke in a hushed tone.