Tangled Sun Novels & Stories

The moon painted his new tattoo like it had been waiting to meet it. “Together,” he said again, and the bridge agreed. Sable’s bead-hand twitched, lazy but ready. Elder Max’s rod lifted a fraction, patient and terrible. “Proceed,” he said, and the word fell into the river like a coin. I inhaled and it felt like the house inhaled with me. “Sun,” I said to the ledger, to Sable, to the door we built and to the girl I had been who used to sing because she had to. “Always sun.” And then the signers crossed the line.

Spark howled beside her, her voice faint but warm, the sunlight reflecting in her amber eyes, the clearing a sanctuary, the warmth a shared memory. Tess looked at Finn, her hazel eyes glowing with love, her voice steady, the sunlight illuminating her face, the warmth of the clearing a mirror to the heat in her heart, the air thick with their shared legacy, the clearing a sanctuary, their bond a radiant flame. “Protect them, Finn,” she said, her shield pendant catching the sunlight, the sunlight dancing on her face, the clearing a haven, the warmth a shared joy. Dawn howled beside her, her voice faint but clear, the sunlight reflecting in her amber eyes, the clearing a sanctuary, the warmth a

"It feels like the sun is inside my skin. Like I’m part of the flowers." "The sun burns things, Anna," she said, her voice softening as she went back to my hair, though the tension in her shoulders remained. Behind me, I could hear the faint clink-clink of metal. She wasn't just braiding my hair; she was weaving a cage. Between the strands of my blonde hair, she was threading thin, shimmering wires of silver. They were cold, biting into my scalp, acting as a tether for the power I so desperately wanted to let out.

A faint glow touched the eastern sky— barely bright, barely rising. But it was enough. Dawn was minutes away. His muscles tensed. The Pact, old and unbreakable, whispered at the edges of his consciousness: When the sun rises, the girl becomes untouchable. Unclaimable. Unreachable. If any part of him wanted to pretend he didn’t care— The sharp spike of hatred at the thought proved otherwise. The idea of that thin line of sunlight severing the bond still forming between their marks made his breathing turn jagged, his fingers lock more tightly around her.

It read in big letters: "Sunstone" And below it in smaller writing: "Honey, on New Year's I'm your possession. Don't care if I say 'no'. If something goes wrong, I will say the word above. If I don't say it, you do whatever you want! Love you!" I couldn't believe it. I collapsed on the floor. I couldn't stand the horniness; I almost cried...

But now, the children were enraptured by Freya's voice as she spun an old tale, her words weaving through the air like threads of an ancient tapestry. "And so the first moon, Tvaran, was born—the Moon of Beginnings. It is the swiftest, appearing first in the sky, ushering in the start of each cycle." Freya’s voice was smooth yet firm, seasoned by years of storytelling. She paused, letting the words settle before continuing. "But the sky could not be ruled by one alone, and so came Sarun, the Constant Moon. Unlike its kin, it does not wane, does not fade. It watches over all, steadfast and unchanging. It is the guardian, the ever-present eye."

The relief was instant and overwhelming. The garden seemed like the most secure spot to be, so I took my coffee and went outdoors. The breeze was fresh, and the morning sunlight filtered through the tree branches. I inhaled deeply and experienced a brief sense of peace. That moment didn’t last. “Tough morning?” I looked over and saw Kane a few steps away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his worn jeans, a familiar smile playing on his lips. His hair was slightly tousled like he had just gotten out of bed.

Chapter 11: The Fallout Still Burns The sunlight spilled across Lana’s apartment like an intruder, warm and unwelcome. She sat hunched on the edge of her couch, the plush silk robe she wore wrinkled from a sleepless night. Her phone buzzed again on the glass table, lighting up with another message from Mia. Lana ignored it. The headlines were everywhere. Dominic Voss resigns. The woman in red revealed. Silk scandal. Her name was now synonymous with betrayal. Not of vows, but of image. Reputation. Voss Corp’s clean perfection cracked open because of her—and him.

To say the air was unnatural would have been an understatement. I had grown used to feeling the natural flow of the currents of the wind but as we grew closer to the barrier those typical well mapped twists were swirling as if they had developed a mind of their own. “Wow!” Sage stopped just shy of that tinted opaque wall that shimmered with the setting sun stretching so high we couldn’t see where it crested back to a dome.

"Mom, don't tell me anything about Connor anymore. I don't care." I hung up. Jamie happened to knock on the door just then. He was holding my favorite cake. It was the kind that tasted amazing but was notoriously soft and easily collapsed. Jamie had protected it carefully. It still looked as good as when it left the bakery. "I was passing by the bakery and recalled you liked this, so I bought you one." Looking at his sunburnt face, red from waiting in line under the sun, I couldn't help but laugh. Sure, if "passing by" was a nineteen mile detour.