Syosetu Nocturne Novels & Stories

The banquet ended past midnight. Luke sat in the front passenger seat of his Rolls-Royce, pressing his index finger against his temple. He had long, artist's fingers. The glow of the streetlights cast just the right shadow over his face, making his nose bridge more prominent. He looked like a sculpture straight out of a museum. "It's late now. The curfew would already be in effect by the time you return to your dorm."

Azalea's POV The events of last night unraveled like a series of blurred, mesmerizing scenes—so strange and captivating that they felt like a dream. "Mommy! Mommy!" Alvin woke me up, climbing on top of me and shaking my body. I struggled to fully awaken. "Oh, honey," I mumbled, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the window. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, blinking away the brightness.

The night was a sanctuary where dreams took flight, where love knew no boundaries, and where the whispers of stories past and future echoed in the silent spaces between sleep and wakefulness. With a soft smile on her lips, Mama Hazel surrendered to the embrace of sleep, her heart filled with the echoes of tales untold, dreams yet to be dreamed, and the infinite beauty of a world where love and imagination reigned supreme. In the sanctuary of the night, she found peace, joy, and the gentle promise of a new day filled with the magic of storytelling and the enduring power of love.

I began chanting words in a language I had never heard myself speak before. "Lysso, Velká Lysso, žádám tě, abys mi udělil požehnání síly. Prsten na Měsíci před tebou je můj a teď tvůj. Mohu vzývat vaši moc a vy můžete volat mou službu. Bohyně Šílenství, Temnoty a Zuřivosti vyšla ven a byla ke mně připoutána vzájemnou zuřivostí a nenávistí. Nebudu plýtvat tvou silou, má bohyně!" I chanted.

the journalist asked curiously. "Yes, it's called 'Tales of the Moonlit Grimoire'," Luna revealed with a smile, subtly bringing the interview to a close.

I tell myself to find the bad, to find the tainted traces that are not Valen, and get them out. “I believe in you,” Valen whispers. And with his affirmation, I touch the sides of Valen’s head, and I let myself fall down into his mind. It’s dark. So dark. I hear screams. I hear a language I do not recognize. I feel sand all around my body. I see dozens of worlds and various ships. I see Neron blue. I see red blood. I suck in a shallow breath. I press my fingertips tightly into Valen’s temples. I shift in the bed, better balancing myself.

So I stay close enough to the surface to hear it coming. The cabin was cold in the way mountain cabins got cold when autumn decided it was done pretending to be summer. The fire had gone out around three in the morning and I hadn't bothered to restart it. Cold didn't trouble me the way it troubled most. One of the smaller advantages of what I was, what Silver Dawn had made me, or maybe what I'd always been and the Circle had simply named and handed back to me with a training manual attached. I lay on my back in the narrow cot and ran the day's report through my head the way I always did before sleep and after waking. A habit so old I couldn't remember learning it. Some people counted sheep.

Promise. Suzie pitched forward, aware of the pain in her bare knees as they hit the ground. Her vision was blurring even more, the meadow in front of her becoming like a magic carpet ride she would take to dreamland—except she was already there, wasn’t she? Oh, this was so confusing, and she didn’t have the energy to try and work it out. Suzie yawned. The longest, loudest yawn she’d ever done.

Rising from her bed, she made her way to the nearest bathroom, unknowingly disregarding the presence of a set of eyes shimmering with desire in the dim corner of the room. As midnight descended, the silver hue of the moon draped the world in a gentle, mystical radiance. A tapestry of silver moonlight adorned the floor of the penthouse balcony, casting a soft, unearthly glow that illuminated the path ahead. The night remained calm and uncannily quiet, devoid of the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures or the rustling of wind through the trees. Unexpectedly, a chilling breeze disrupted the tranquil night, causing the ivory curtains to sway gracefully. A mysterious figure appears in Sumire's bed

She was told, her whole life, that she was broken. A wolf who couldn't shift. A healer's helper with no voice of her own. Aurelia Vane learned to stay quiet, take up little space, never hope for more. Then the Lycan King rejects her in front of his entire court. Draeven Thorne never makes mistakes. But when his wolf claims the quiet healer as his fated mate, he panics — and humiliates her in front of every pack, calling her protection. The rejection doesn't break the bond. Instead, a black mark blooms beneath her collarbone. Her wolf wakes up for the first time. And Council leader Malric Drake goes still — because he knows exactly who she is: the last of the Noctari, a bloodline he perso