The Rite 2 Novels & Stories

Her refusal to let fear win again. The grove was dark and still. The stone pillars stood silent. The runes on the ground were dark but the air felt thick with old power waiting to be woken again. They stepped inside the circle. The bond flickered harder. A howl of pain reached them from far away through the link. Another bond breaking somewhere in the pack. Damien turned to her. "The rite requires us to be joined when the blood touches the stone. It must be willing. It must be us choosing each other against the unmaking."

​The clause read: "The Bondholders (acting under the advisement of the Independent Risk Assessment Body) require a verifiable, non-human, algorithmic integrity review..." ​“The Bondholders didn’t order Cortex; the Independent Risk Assessment Body (IRAB) mandated it,” I realized. “They are the true mechanism of oversight. They are the external necessity.” ​The Independent Risk Assessment Body (IRAB) ​The IRAB was a non-profit, internationally funded organization tasked with evaluating systemic risk in critical global infrastructure projects. They were supposed to be the most objective layer of financial analysis in the world—faceless, transparent, and absolutely incorruptible.

“Together. I will not… I will not let you walk into whatever that is alone.” The afternoon moved forward in a blur: Lucian came with his maps and quiet orders, Rowan came and went with men; the witch arrived and unrolled herbs and silver bowls, her hands steady and sure. The room where the rite would take place was set apart — no maps, no tomes, only a ring of salt and a single iron stake driven into the ground. A place for truth to be forced through or to stay veiled. The way they prepared made the air thinner.

Then, I saw Vivian being sent out on a stretcher, struggling to breathe. Horace dragged me to her, and that's when I saw the rashes on her body, red splotches painting her skin. "I didn't…" I tried to defend myself, but Horace threw me onto the ground. "I shouldn't have brought a venomous witch like you home in the first place!" And so, I was left there on the cold marble floor, no one caring about the blood seeping from the back of my head. As the ambulance sped away, its siren blaring, the house fell into dead silence once more.

The Alpha Dominion Rite reached its peak in the moonlit amphitheater. The air crackled with raw power as King Vortigern and several other dominant Alphas performed the ancient displays — deep, vibrating growls that shook snow from the trees, ritual combat forms showcasing strength and control, and the symbolic marking where an Alpha would press his palm to a woman’s throat or wrist, leaving a temporary glowing sigil of claim. These rites traced back to the manor’s earliest days, when dominant spirits and mortal Alphas sealed pacts through raw possession and unbreakable dominance.

Holding a worn scroll… and dripping wolf’s blood onto the soil. The second rite had begun.

I say to the man, who raises his head and lets the fading daylight wash over his face, which is shadowed by his hood. Artyom’s unearthly bright blue-silver eyes meet mine, startling against his deep brown skin, before his gaze meets Ella’s. “The act of the Rite is considered sacred, and those that perform the ritual are said to be blessed by the Goddess. It’s an honor on her pack to have been chosen, and rare, given that the honor is normally reserved for a female of witch blood.”

I force my hands to unclench. “What do you hope to achieve,” I ask, “beyond theater? The Rite was designed to sever half‑formed bonds. Not this.” I tap my chest once, over the place where she lives. “You try to carve this out. You’ll break more than you know how to fix.” “The Rite predates any one curse,” Malric says. “It was crafted to cut what needs cutting. You give it too little credit—and your Luna too much.” Cassian growls, low. I feel the sound in my spine.

I wasn’t sure what the proper phrasing was supposed to be, so I pulled from the exchange used between new wolves and alphas on their first moon. Dmitri caught me as the rush of thousands of minds linked to mine all at the same time and my legs gave out from under me. It wasn’t just these alphas I accepted. I was now king to every member of their packs as well. Now I had to figure out how to win a war without getting all of them killed. ~End of Book 2: Rite of Power~ Book 3 Rite of War should start posting around December of 2023

The treason had been purged, but at a staggering cost. Silas was in the dungeons, and Kael’s body had been sent back to the Iron Claw borders as a grim warning. But the moon was full, and the night of the Lunar Rite had arrived. ​The Lunar Rite was the holiest night for the Silver Bane. It was a night of instinct, where the human mind stepped back and the wolf took the lead. For an Alpha, it was the night they renewed their bond with the land. But for Rhea, it was something else. It was the night the mate bond would become undeniable.