AIDANAMy reaction is immediate disgust.Shinee walks into the room, looking back at me, as if I'm going to follow him into his bedroom. I stand at the doorway, staring in at him disbelief. Did he seriously just hear me proudly talk about being a respectable woman, and is now telling me I'm sleeping in his room? There is no doubt plenty of guest rooms in this marvelous estate.As I remain gaping at him, not taking a single step in, Shinee's playful expression erupts into one of pure amusement. Does he think I'm a joke? Folding my arms over my chest, I silently scold my past self for agreeing to this."I'm offering this room to you, as it's the best room here, and you, as my mate, deserves only the best. I'm not going to be staying in here with you," he informs me.My entire body deflates."Oh," I draw off. Suddenly I feel foolish for my assumption, although he led me right into it. Warily, I wander into the room, watching him, and his bed, ensuring there is a few feet of space between
AIDANAAll I know about today, is it's going to be cold.Walking back into the bedroom after being fed a sweet liquid to remove the truth serum from my system, I trudged back upstairs, fuming. I'm not going with him today because his charm sufficed in convincing me. No. I'm going because what other choice do I have? He's going to make it impossible for me if I refuse.And to make matters worse on this entire day, he didn't give me the book. He claimed it wasn't a false promise, and that he knew I was using every fiber in my body to stop myself from being honest with him, therefore, the deal was off. Conniving jerk.I would be more mad about it, if I weren't so distracted by the clothing choice Shinee must have magically laid out atop the covers of the bed.Cold weather clothes. Coats, boots, sweaters.I've seen outside of Shinee's estate, at the snow capped mountains and dainty villages tucked within the valleys of these towering beasts. It makes me wonder whether he created it for his
AIDANAMe.The person who delivered the towels into my room, only moments ago, was me. It took me a moment to recognize my own features in someone else, but there was no doubting that it was me. Or at least, a version of me. I was visibly disturbed for a moment, once my screams ceased and I was cloaked in a veil of silence. Shinee didn’t arrive with the haste I assumed he was, so I stand alone in this bathroom, panicking.Suddenly, a figure appears in the doorway behind me. I’m staring at myself, but a version that has clearly been copied to a lesser, almost sicklier state. This fake has timid eyes circled with darkness, remaining a dull, pale green. Her skin is disturbingly sallow, her hair dead and flat against sunken cheekbones.This person has stolen my body. They have made a poor replica to scare me. And I’m not exactly sure how they did it, but I’m more concerned with my escape."What the hell are you?" I question softly, voice quivering."Pretty little Moon Goddess. Come to visi
"It's not often I see you smile."Shinee's voice startles me. We haven't spoke for the past hour, instead spending our time pouring over notepads full of ideas. So far, most of them are useless. But what it is, is a step forward in the planning that has taken me years, and I don't feel bad about it. Shinee hasn't once hinted at an ulterior motive, and it seems as those he is trying to help.Oddly enough, this has been...fun. Maybe that's not the best word, but I've began to feel excitement, at what this might mean. I lay on my stomach on the floor of my motel room, right at the hearth of a blazing fire. Shinee is on the bed, legs crossed. It's amusing him like this. He taps the end of his pen against his chin, concentrating on the piece of paper be balances on a stray book.It's such a normal action for such an otherworldly man."You get to our age and suddenly it's harder to find the fun in things you typically would," I admit, drawing random patterns across the page. "I thought you
Shedding my clothes is the easy part. Looking at him isn't.I can feel the heat of his gaze, as it passes across each of my bare limb, drinking in the sight of me which I have never bared to any man. My confidence seeps away with every piece of clothing that I let slip onto the floor, until I am completely naked in front of him. I'm doing this to prove a point, which is becoming more and more foggy as time passes by.No longer do I want Shinee to have the upper-hand. I'm always wondering what is going on inside his head, wishing he wasn't such a mystery. Now, my mate is going to look at me and wonder why I'm suddenly so confident. He's going to wonder why I no longer care what he thinks.One foot steps beneath the surface of the water, before being followed shortly after by my entire body. Shinee still stands, completely clothed, staring at me.His eyes glare right into my soul.There's something about the way he looks at me. Those lavender eyes, a trap for the most vulnerable souls,
It doesn't feel good to be home.As soon as it was possible for me to return back here, I did, much to Shinee's dismay. It seem quite evident at our farewell that he was appearing impassive; a mask atop any real feeling, to not appear weak. But he will miss me, I'm sure, and I will miss him. As much as it pains me to admit, the past few days have been ones I've cherished. In fact, I'm quite looking forward to returning to him, to see what more could ensue.The moment I return to my quarters, I notice that everything appears exactly how it would have been, if I had just come back from dinner. The space looks lived in, but still relatively clean. Of course, this must be Hermione's doing, ensuring nothing appears any different for an eye as watchful as the Moon."Hermione, I have returned," I call out softly, wandering through my living space and into my bedroom. Oddly enough, as much as I search, there is no Hermione to be found.Typically, she would be at here reading nook by the fire,
I keep the book close to me.My plan is to read through it entirely, to understand every inch of it. The question is, is it predicting my life like it sounds? I slept on what I read, dreaming about it. My mind can't help wandering back to Shinee, and what he would think about it. I'm not sure whether I should share this with him or not, since it seems so personal to just me. At least I now know how Damon knows seemingly everything about me.Waking is more difficult this morning, than usual. Fluttering my eyes open, I realise my curtains are closed and the lights are off. Sitting up, I breathe in for the smell of rose water, to find nothing. My usual morning has been disrupted, and it only takes me a moment to realise why.Hermione isn't here.Sitting up, I quickly step out of bed. Hermione has been gone since last night, but at the back of my head I assumed she was dealing with business elsewhere, pretending to be me in my absence. Not to mention, I was distracted last night by the bo
I’m stunned.Shinee leans back against my pillow, flipping through a book. Damon, poised with his hip against my dresser, stares me down with that unnerving milky white gaze. The situation seems so… odd. Seeing these two incredibly powerful immortals causally existing in this rather insignificant space makes it all the more surreal. I surely assume I would see Shinee in person for a few more weeks at least."Someone better explain," I say shakily. Hermione strifes into the room, brushing past Michael as she goes to stand by my faux window. She's putting herself between me and Shinee. It was brave of her, since Shinee has been trying to get his hands on my powerful little guard for awhile. Thankfully his attention is switched to me."You first. Do you have a thing for white panties only or...?" I hear Damon muse.Flicking my attention back to him, I realise he’s opened the top draw of my dresser, rifling through my extra personal belongings. My face drains of all colour."This agreemen
The council chamber buzzed with tension as the pack leaders gathered for an emergency meeting. The news of the skirmish between Moonshadow and Nightwalker wolves had sent shockwaves through the packs, threatening to undo the fragile progress they had made.Rayka stood at the head of the room, her gaze sharp and unyielding. Sylvester was by her side, his presence a steady reminder of the unity they were fighting to preserve.“All right,” Rayka began, her voice cutting through the murmurs. “I want a full report. Who was involved, and how did this happen?”A scout stepped forward, his expression grim. “The incident occurred near the southern border. A Moonshadow patrol and a Nightwalker patrol crossed paths during their rounds. They accused each other of trespassing, and things escalated into a fight. No serious injuries, but tempers flared on both sides.”“Names,” Sylvester demanded. “Who led the patrols?”The scout hesitated. “Daren for the Moonshadow patrol. Talia for the Nightwalker p
The forest was alive with the sounds of pack life as Rayka walked through the stronghold. Wolves bustled about, carrying supplies, sparring on the training grounds, or chatting in small groups. To the untrained eye, everything appeared harmonious, but Rayka’s instincts told her otherwise. There was a tension in the air, subtle yet unmistakable—a quiet unease rippling through her people. Sylvester met her at the edge of the training field, his brow furrowed. “Do you feel it too?” he asked without preamble. Rayka nodded, her gaze sweeping over the busy grounds. “Something’s off. I’ve heard murmurs—discontent, whispers of doubt. It’s not open rebellion, but it’s there.” Sylvester’s jaw tightened. “Any idea where it’s coming from?” “Not yet,” Rayka admitted. “But I’m going to find out.”
The morning sunlight spilled across the Moonshadow Pack’s stronghold, bathing the forest in golden light. The sounds of nature surrounded the settlement—chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the soft murmurs of pack life. For once, there were no urgent meetings, no strategies to plan, and no enemies at the border. It was a rare day of peace, and Rayka intended to savor every second of it.Rayka stood in the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves as she examined the collection of ingredients in front of her. Cooking wasn’t something she often had time for, but today she decided to indulge herself. Kael’s soft coos echoed from his crib in the corner of the room, bringing a smile to her face.“Are you sure you remember how to do this?” Sylvester teased from the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.Rayka shot him a mock glare. “I might not be a master chef, but I can manage breakfast without setting the place on fire.”
The air in the Moonshadow Pack’s territory carried a quiet peace that felt foreign after so much conflict. For the first time in years, Rayka allowed herself a moment to breathe, her shoulders no longer heavy with the constant weight of impending battles. Yet the scars of their struggles remained etched into the land, their people, and her heart.Sylvester leaned against the doorway of their shared quarters, the healing wound on his side a stark reminder of how close they had come to losing everything. His presence was a quiet reassurance, a steady force beside her as they faced this new chapter together.“Morning already?” he asked, his voice low but warm.Rayka nodded, glancing at the horizon where the sun rose, casting a golden hue over the dense forest. “A new day,” she murmured. “A new era.”Sylvester stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “And what kind of leaders will we be in this era, Rayka?”“The kind who learn from the past but don’t let it define us,” she replied without
The prophecy had haunted Rayka since the moment it had been uttered. The old seer’s voice echoed in her mind, a chilling combination of truth and warning: “Under the blood moon’s shadow, a bond shall be tested, a leader shall fall, and a child’s cry shall signal the dawn of a new fate." For weeks, the pack had lived in the shadow of these words, their meaning elusive yet ever-present. Rayka tried to convince herself that they were mere ramblings, but as the pieces of their world began to align in ways she couldn’t ignore, she feared that fate was finally calling its due.The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, jagged shadows across the forest. Rayka stood on the high balcony of the Moonshadow Pack’s stronghold, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Sylvester joined her, his steps silent but his presence unmistakable. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch warm despite the chill in the air.“The scouts reported movements near the western border,” Sylvester said, his voice h
The dawn broke over the forest, a hesitant light filtering through the trees as if wary of what it might find below. Rayka stood on the balcony of their stronghold, the cool morning breeze brushing her face. From her vantage point, she observed the daily bustle of the pack below. Yet, a gnawing unease had taken root in her heart, one that Sylvester had voiced just the night before.“You feel it too, don’t you?” Sylvester’s voice cut through the quiet. He approached from behind, his presence grounding yet tinged with the same worry that plagued her.“Yes,” Rayka admitted, her gaze fixed on the training grounds where warriors sparred. “Something’s not right. There’s a disconnect, a tension I can’t quite place.”Sylvester leaned against the railing, his sharp eyes scanning the scene. “We’ve been so focused on external threats, perhaps we’ve neglected what’s been festering within.”Their suspicions were confirmed later that day during a council meeting. The room was filled with voices, som
The air was heavy with tension as Rayka and Sylvester arrived at the neutral territory where the meeting was set to take place. This stretch of forest, untouched by either pack or faction, had served as a sanctuary for those unwilling to take sides in the recent conflict. The trees stood tall and ancient, their intertwined branches creating a canopy that muted the afternoon light. It was a place steeped in history, where deals had been struck and truces forged over centuries.Sylvester stepped ahead, his eyes scanning the dense underbrush for signs of movement. "I don’t like this," he murmured, his voice low enough for only Rayka to hear."I don’t either," Rayka replied, her gaze fixed on the clearing ahead. "But if there’s a chance to secure their support, we have to take it."The "they" in question were the Silver Veil, a reclusive and enigmatic group that had always remained on the periphery of pack politics. Neither fully aligned with the dominant factions nor entirely independent
The battle's aftermath left a silence that felt foreign, almost unnerving. Rayka stood atop a ridge overlooking the main settlement of their pack, the soft orange hues of dawn casting long shadows over the valley. For years, conflict had been her constant companion—each victory accompanied by loss, each step forward shadowed by doubt. Now, as the dust settled and the echoes of war faded, she realized that peace was an even more daunting challenge.The village below bore the scars of their struggles. Buildings stood in varying states of disrepair, some barely more than skeletons of wood and stone. People moved through the streets, their steps heavy with fatigue but underlined with determination. For every broken window, there was a group working to patch it. For every torn banner, there was someone sewing it anew.Sylvester joined her, his quiet presence a balm to her restless thoughts. "It’s a strange sight, isn’t it?" he murmured, his voice low as if unwilling to disturb the fragile s
The aftermath of battle hung over the battlefield like an oppressive shroud. Smoke coiled into the air, rising from the scorched earth, and the groans of the wounded were muffled by the crunch of boots over broken ground. Rayka and Sylvester stood on a ridge overlooking the smoldering remains of the battlefield, their eyes scanning the horizon for signs of enemy movement.The tension was palpable, the allied forces weary but prepared for another clash.“They’ve gone quiet,” Sylvester remarked, his sharp eyes darting toward the distant enemy camp. “Too quiet.”Rayka nodded, her instincts buzzing with unease. “It’s not like them to retreat without regrouping. Something’s not right.”As if to punctuate her words, a lone figure emerged from the enemy’s camp, holding a white flag high above their head. The sight drew murmurs from the allied forces, the realization spreading through their ranks like wi