Under A Gilded Moon Novels & Stories

The night was perfect, the full moon casting its gentle glow over our Moonlight Pack's territory. The air was filled with the comforting scents of roasting meat and fresh pine, and the sound of laughter echoed through the trees. It was a night of celebration, a night to honor the moon goddess, Selene, and the bond we shared as a pack. I stood among my fellow pack members, a warm sense of belonging filling me as I watched them enjoy the festivities. The bonfire roared in the center of our clearing, casting flickering shadows on the faces of those I held dear.

THE WIND HOWLED from the sea, bringing the coldness into the air around the houses built along the shore. It echoed in Xurden’s ear as they stood on the roof of one of the abandoned warehouses overlooking the length of white sand. Above the sky, the round moon glowed bright hiding from the thick clouds. A few blocks away from where they were, the party had started early on the rooftop of a five-story building. He could see Yric standing in the corner, even from a distance. The younger guy looked so lost holding a red disposable cup.

He asked curiously. "Yes. He wants me to sign a contract to be his Luna for a month and if I'm still not in love with him, then he'd reject me and let me go forever but I told him that can only happen in his dreams." She explained her discussion with Harris to the Major. "After a deep thought, I realized the moon goddess is actually on our side." He announced, confusing Kat. "What do you mean, sir?" She asked. "Assuming you agree to the contract, will you actually fall for him in a month? After all, you both have been intimate for…"

"Brilliant. Absolutely savage." I couldn't help it—I let out a quiet laugh too, sharp and breathless. There was something darkly satisfying about it all. A bite of justice, finally mine. We chatted briefly, then went our separate ways—two she-wolves heading in opposite directions. As the plane took off, I glanced out the window one last time. Above Ethan's estate, fireworks bloomed across the sky—brilliant, dazzling. One final performance. A belated apology. Too late. Too far. Too hollow.

The Sanctuary of the Moon stood like a fragile jewel under the twilight sky, its marble pillars glowing faintly with silver runes. Iris stood at the highest balcony, her gaze sweeping over the sprawling halls below. Wolves of all shades—fur white as snow, black as pitch, and every hue between—milled restlessly in the courtyard. What had once been a haven of unity now throbbed with a dangerous undercurrent, as though the air itself bristled with the scent of war.

Killian’s kiss was hard and hungry: a promise that no human ghost and no digital virus would ever take what belonged to the Silver Moon. The triage of the abyss was about to begin: and as I looked at the Sun Stone glowing in the depths: I knew the next shift would be our greatest excision yet.

“No regrets? The Moonlight Covenant can’t be undone.” I looked up at the silvery beam filtering through the temple’s vaulted ceiling. “Regret?” I whispered. “For leaving a man ruled by guilt and duty? For walking away from a pack built on control? No. I only feel… free.” Lynn nodded once, solemn and sure. He gripped his insignia like it was an oath. As the ancient runes shimmered to life across our hands beneath the moonstone’s glow, Lynn carefully rolled both scrolls and placed them into my mother’s lap.

She had, in her own charming way, called me poor in twelve different languages. "What if Joanne sees us?" The thought leapt out of me before I could stop it, my gaze shooting toward the main door. Gina, however, remained entirely unbothered, her fingers drifting lazily through the hanging garments. "Don't give her a second thought. As far as she knows, I'm still at school — and knowing her, she's busy fussing over her little kitty party group, reciting verses from the Silver Moon." The Silver Moon — the ancient scripture said to hold the sacred chronicles of Selene. It struck me as oddly surprising that Joanne, with her rigid bearing and severe manner, would count herself among the goddess's

Her chin was tucked, her shoulders were slumping in her perfect porcelain disguise, but through the dark curls of her hair, her eyes met his—wide, awake, and burning with a terrifying, shared brilliance. The empire was bleeding, the vanguard was turning on itself, and the Ghost was finally holding the knife.

What did he pay you? His hand stopped. "I don't—" "To keep me under while they cut out my pup's marrow. To end my bloodline." I turned my head. He stepped back. "What was the weight of the gold?" His shoulders sagged. He thrust release papers at me. I marked them with unsteady fingers. "Stay through the waning moon," he murmured. "Your spirit is barely anchored." "I'd rather walk into blizzard than breathe here another hour." I gathered my blood-stained clothes and walked out. My legs shook, but rage kept me upright.