Novels by Katrina

The woods were still this time of day. The kind of stillness that came not from silence, but from peace. Not the tense hush before a storm—but the exhale that follows one. Two wolves darted between the trees, pelts flashing silver white and black as they raced toward the river. Nova and Atlas—Selene and Theoden. They weren’t chasing anything anymore. Just the wind. Just the freedom they’d fought so hard to earn. They reached the river at the same time, skidding down the bank and crashing into the water with a roar of splashes and barked laughter. A few moments later, two smaller wolves barreled out of the woods, one dark gray with white paws, the other reddish-gold with eyes too clever for her age. Their children. Kael and Lyra. They tumbled into the shallows, wrestling their parents with soaked fur and wagging tails, before the whole family finally shifted back to human form, dripping and breathless. Selene grinned as she squeezed water from her hair. Theoden pulled her close, p

The earth felt still again. Not dead. Not dormant. Just… still. Like the world had exhaled for the first time in centuries and was finally resting. Selene stood at the crest of a hill just outside Silvercrest, the wind brushing through her hair. The sky was soft, the clouds drifting like whispers. Below her, warriors were gathering. Onyx wolves, Silvercrest wolves, and the remnants of what had once been scattered. Now, they were united. Whole. Behind her, Theoden walked up the hill, his steps quiet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked softly. Selene leaned back against him. “I think… I’ve been ready for this more than anything else.” He kissed her temple, slow and lingering. “Then let’s go home.” They returned to Silvercrest first, gathering their things, tending wounds, thanking those who had fought beside them. Cassiel had moved in with the pack. It seemed fitting for the last Elder to be with the pack that guarded t

Theoden stood at the base of the archway, staring up at the massive stone door. It towered above them, ancient and unmoving, but alive in a way that made his skin crawl. The markings etched into its surface pulsed faintly, like the thrum of a heartbeat buried in rock. This wasn’t just a door—it was a wound in the fabric of the world. And they were finally going to seal it. Selene stepped beside him, her fingers brushing against his. “I remember,” she whispered, her voice steady. “I remember the words. The symbols. The rhythm.” “So do I,” Theoden replied. The last time these words had been spoken, it was by a circle of Elders. But instead of sealing the door, they’d used the ritual to erase Selene and Theoden—trapping their souls outside of time, tearing them from the world. The Elders had feared the door, but more than that, they feared the ones born to protect it. This time, the ritual would not erase them. This time, it would fulfill its purpose. Selene turned to Luka and Da

Theoden sat beneath the silver light of twilight, his back resting against the base of a cracked pillar. Smoke still curled through the trees from what was left of the battlefield, and the earth beneath him was scorched, still warm to the touch. But the worst of the fire had passed. The world was still standing. He was still breathing. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly as he pressed a hand over his chest, where the embers of Atlas’s flame had entered him. The skin there still burned faintly—not in pain, but with something deeper. Something sacred. “You should be resting.” Atlas’s voice drifted into his mind again. Still present. Still alive. Theoden smiled faintly. “I am.” “No, you’re brooding.” A breath of laughter escaped him, but it came out soft. Fragile. “Maybe.” A long silence passed between them. “You weren’t supposed to come back,” Theoden said finally. Atlas’s voice was steady, almost too calm. “Neither were you.” Theoden let his head fall back against the ston

Aylexelen shattered into light. It wasn’t like before—no scream of rage, no final attempt at vengeance. Just one long, drawn-out silence as Selene, Nova, and Atlas poured every last ounce of their power into him. The golden light from Selene’s chest merged with Nova’s brilliance and Atlas’ fire, converging like the universe itself had been holding its breath for this moment. And then—he was gone. Ash. Dust. Nothing. The silence that followed felt too heavy to be real. Selene stood there, barely breathing, her power still pulsing at her fingertips. Nova hovered beside her, glowing in her own separate form, but Selene didn’t feel triumphant. She didn’t feel relief. She felt…something. Wrong. Her chest twisted. She turned. And her world collapsed. Theoden was lying in the dirt. Not moving. Not breathing. “No—” His skin was pale. His lips parted just slightly. His beautiful blue eyes—those eyes that had stared into hers with fire and love and life—were closed. And the b

The battlefield was glowing. Golden light and blazing fire twisted through the smoke, dancing across the scarred earth like twin storms. Nova and Atlas moved as if they had always existed separate from their hosts, as if their power had always belonged to this plane. They were magnificent—unstoppable. One, a shimmering beacon of celestial light, the other a relentless inferno tearing through darkness. Selene and Theoden stood at the center of it all, the door looming behind them. A structure ancient beyond measure. Carved from obsidian stone, humming with quiet power. And standing before them—Aylexelen. His silver eyes shone with amusement. And beneath it, something else. Hunger. He raised a hand, and the corrupted creatures that slithered and crawled behind him surged forward. But they didn’t reach Selene or Theoden. Atlas shot through the front line, a living flame ripping into the monstrous shapes, burning them into nothing. Nova followed a second later, glowing so brightl