As we entered the hall, I locked eyes with the various members of our family, and my vampire bandmates posted up around the room. Someone I knew was truly loyal to us was watching all the exits, which made me feel safer. The elders and their sons were already waiting on the stage. Christian, Elton, and Otto spotted us and hurried over with concerned expressions.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, skipping any small talk. “Something feels… off,” Christian whispered, beckoning us to an alcove away from others. “Define off,” Sage said. “Beyond that, your families and the vampires are on high alert and watching all the exits?” Otto folded his arms. “They were weird all day. What’s up with that?” Elton asked. “Back to what’s off.” I nodded my chin to Christian. “Our dads and grandads. They... I can’t place it, but they’ve been acting weird the closer we’ve gotten to the ceremony.” Christian whispered. “Spit it out, kid.” I hissed. “Auðr.” Sage elbowed me. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve been weird since I met them.” “Cagey,” Elton said. “They’ve been keeping many things about the oath ceremony to themselves.” Otto “And I only saw my gramps bring the chalice out of my dad’s office ten minutes ago, and he’s been super protective of it. Holding it with gloves only and won’t let me touch it.” Christian explained. “Well, that answers that question.” I scoffed. “What question?” Christian asked. “How they planned to kill Sage and likely me as well.” I sighed. “Wh…” Elton started to exclaim, but Otto covered his mouth before he could draw attention to us. “It’s hard to explain, but I’m not the first Blackburn with an eclipse wolf. Christian’s ancestor from the 1920s killed my ancestor to prevent the prophecy. Now it looks like that’s the plan again, but this time, there’s not anyone of alpha blood to take power, so…” Sage frowned. “The title would go to my dad if I hadn’t been sworn in.” Christian went pale as the realization hit him. “What’s the plan then? You can’t touch that cup, let alone drink from it, but you have to be sworn in.” Otto asked. “We call in Evalyn,” I said, looking around until I found her. I nodded to her to come over. “Who’s Evalyn?” Elton asked. “I am,” Evalyn said. “What can I help with, Uncle Auðr?” “Uncle Auðr?” The boys spoke in unison. I ignored them and focused on my great-great-great niece. She has a rare power that occurs only once every other generation in her mother’s family—a power that will be very helpful. “The boys have just confirmed my suspicions about their fathers and grandfathers. The chalice for the ceremony is tainted. I need you to do what you do best and cleanse it.” I explained, glancing toward the stage where Joar had held the chalice in his gloved hands. “I’ll have to get it from the old man. What kind of cover can you give me?” Evalyn asked. “I can create a mist.” I offered. “I’ll black out the room. Stay close to me, Evalyn, because you won’t be able to see while I can.” Sage said. “Just don’t touch the chalice yourself, Sage. Evalyn has to be the one.” I insisted. “I’ve got this, doudou.” Sage winked, kissing me before they linked arms with Evalyn. With that, Sage’s eyes went purple, and the room fell into a thick darkness that no one could see. I heard some shouts of surprise erupting around the room. I closed my eyes and focused on Sage. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them, and through our bond, I knew their every movement. I knew when they reached Joar because the darkness faded. A shrill scream filled the air, and everyone looked to the stage. Joar was holding the chalice but ungloved and looking horrified at the realization. Sage and Evalyn stood a few feet away. We all watched most of the room in surprise as Joar fell to the ground dead. The chalice rolled toward the other elders who ran from it, knowing what would happen if they touched it. “YOU KILLED MY FATHER!” Sten shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Sage. “Your father killed himself.” Evalyn scoffed as she daintily picked up the cup. “Don’t it’ll…” Elton Sr shouted but didn’t get it out in time. “It’ll kill me? Please. I’m Evalyn Darby, Renée Lavigne’s daughter and Baptiste Lavigne’s granddaughter. Poisons cannot harm me, and now...” She smiled, running her hand over the cup. “It won’t harm anyone. Did you seriously think our family would let you scum hurt our Uncle Auðr or his mate Sage?” She scoffed, offering the cleansed cup to Sage. “All yours, Alpha Sage.” “Thanks, Evalyn.” Sage smiled, taking the cup. As Sage’s hand touched the cup, I saw the expectant looks of the remaining elders and their sons. Their faces fell when they realized Evalyn spoke the truth. Their plan failed. I was already hurrying onto the stage, Christian, Elton, and Otto on my heels. They grabbed their fathers roughly while I prevented Elton Sr and Svein from getting far. “What do you want us to do with them, Alpha?” Christian asked, roughly pulling his father’s arms behind his back. “For attempted murder?” Sage tapped their chin. “Is there a dungeon to put them in for now? I want to sleep on it and decide later.” “Yes, we do. It hasn’t been used long, but we can escort them to the cells.” Otto smiled. I think he was enjoying getting to lock up his dad and grandfather. “We’ll escort these two for you, Uncle Auðr.” Ruben and Daxton offered. “Thank you. Follow the boys. They know where they’re going.” I nodded. “We should address the pack.” I nodded to the crowd. The pack watched in confusion and fear as their elders and current-ranked wolves were escorted to the dungeons, and another elder died on the ground. Sage turned to the crowd, gripping the cup tightly as they realized we would need to address everyone. I gently took the cup out of Sage’s hand to hold their hand instead. Sage sighed, the bond doing what I wanted it to—relaxing them. “We apologize for what you’ve just witnessed,” Sage said, their voice initially soft but growing louder. “Tonight is meant to be a joyful occasion for us all. Auðr and I had reason to believe something nefarious was afoot. Joar, Elton Sr, Svein, Sten, Elton II, and Jöran plotted against us and this pack. Tonight was meant to bring the pack together and restore harmony after Dane and, more importantly, Vilma Solberg’s deaths. Instead of wanting that for all of you, they only thought of themselves and the power they could claim as their own with us out of the way.” Sage spoke clearly and with such poise. It looks like the months of training in Bloodmoon were paying off. Their public speaking was much better, though I’m betting that was learned from John more than Logan. “Joar paid with his life. I will discuss what will happen to the others and decide their fate tomorrow, but no matter what the decision is, the outcome will be the same. When Christian, Elton II, and Otto return, we shall take our oaths, and we will continue with the celebration as Steelcrest once more has an Alpha.” Sage declared. The crowd was still uneasy, but Sage’s words reassured them. We had the medical staff remove Joar’s body. His widow, as well as the mates of the others, were taken away as well. It wasn’t likely Joar’s mate would live much longer now that he was gone. The other mates would be questioned to understand if they were in on the plans. If they were, they’d face the consequences. If they weren’t, well, they might be given the choice to leave their mates and escape tying their fate to them. We proceeded with the ceremony once the boys returned to the hall. I was still adjusting to being able to communicate with Sage and their family telepathically, and now I have a whole fucking pack of wolves in my head. By the night’s end, I could at least keep everyone but Sage’s thoughts out of my head. I’m perfectly happy to let Sage in my head and to hear their thoughts. I wasn’t in the meetings and interrogations the following day, but I was there when Sage made their decision. The two elders were put to death while the sons were going to remain in the dungeon for ten years, and then we’d revisit the situation. They weren’t happy about it, but I felt it was fair. In my opinion, they should’ve died too. Sage was kind because they believed the three idiots were influenced by their fathers more than they were in it for themselves. I didn’t push. Sage is a good judge of character. Sage trusted Christian, Elton III, and Otto, which worked in our favor as they more than proved themselves the night of oath-taking. Our place in Steelcrest was secured that night, or at least it began that night. Miles was right that we’d need to secure our line. However, he was wrong that it was impossible. It was a topic discussed on and off for a couple of years. We’d initially thought we’d just be able to hand the title to a child River and Leo could someday have, but the pack was adamant that they’d feel more secure if it was Sage’s heir, not their twin’s. Surrogacy worked for Madonie’s Alpha André and Aleph Darren. Finding a surrogate was the easy part. I had zero interest in being a biological father to a vampire-werewolf hybrid, but Sage wanted my genetics. Evalyn volunteered to be the egg donor and surrogate. Sage agreed since she was a Darby, and the pack approved because the heir would be a pure-blooded werewolf. It was a win-win for everyone. Before you start questioning how Evalyn’s mate felt, she hasn’t found one yet. Plus, Evalyn is a lesbian. So, I don’t think she would be too up in arms about it if she had her mate. So, with successful IVF, Evalyn carried our heir to full term. At 11:59 pm on Halloween, three years after we’d become Alpha and Aleph, we welcomed Salem Miles Carlisle. He’s the first grandchild born in Sage’s family, but being on the opposite side of the country, he won’t be spoiled by Hale and Erin.Nothing is ever easy or conventional with these two. A five-part epilogue, but we made it to THE END and thier happily ever after as leaders of Steelcrest and parents to baby Salem.
Dear Readers, Thank you for taking the time to read this Anthology. I hope you have enjoyed all the stories it contained. With the conclusion of The Hybrid’s Vampire, we have come to the official end of this Anthology. I will take the rest of November off to work on a project. You can follow me on social media to stay current on what I'm working on. I will return to Goodnovel in December with Her Second Chance Mate, Alex Whitland and Holly Boland's story. Bring tissues! See you son and thanks for all your support! Bryant
Dear Readers, Love has a way of surprising us—especially when fate steps in. Thread of Destiny is a story about friendship, longing, and the magic of fated mates. It’s a sapphic paranormal romance that blends the thrill of unexpected love with the warmth of a second-chance connection. If you’ve been following my stories, you may already be familiar with Evie and Sophie. Evie Rock is the younger sister of Rohan Rock, whose love story with Shikoba Thorn unfolded in Cult of Love (featured in The Genius Delta). Sophie Blanchett was first introduced as the French nanny caring for Rohan and Shikoba’s twin daughters. Their paths crossed in the past, but they were just side characters in someone else’s love story. Now, it’s their turn. Evie also made a small cameo in Her Second Chance Mate, and some of you may remember last year’s Valentine’s novella, A Moonlight Valentine, where love took center stage. This year, fate is weaving a new thread, one that connects two hearts who never expected
Winters in Bloodmoon have always been beautiful, but it’s the kind of beauty best shared with someone else. I had no someone else. I was alone in my tiny apartment, in that awkward in-between place where my wolf demanded companionship I still hadn’t found. I’m eighteen, living on my own for the first time, enrolled at the University of Portland for music…and mateless. It was lonely in ways I couldn’t describe to my friends. At university, my classmates saw a seemingly normal freshman, a girl with a bright smile, wavy brown hair, and a knack for the cello. They didn’t see how my wolf, Noria, prowled inside me, restless and craving that fabled mate bond. It was a Friday night, one I should have spent partying or doing anything with friends. Instead, I planned an evening of tragic solitude. I’d just flopped onto my sofa, halfheartedly scrolling through N*****x. My reflection in the dark TV screen caught my eye first: hair tumbling past my shoulders in loose brown waves, warm-toned skin w
Standing in my childhood bedroom in Paris, I considered canceling my flight for a Valentine’s Day mate gathering in Silverclaw. My father insisted I wouldn’t meet my mate if I stayed in Les Hurleurs Sanctifiés, the pack I grew up in. At twenty-one, I was well past the age when many wolves find their mates; friends had found theirs by eighteen or nineteen. My mother encouraged me, saying the bond was worth the effort. So, as Valentine’s Day approached, I gave in and booked my flight to Portland, Oregon, the nearest major airport to the Silverclaw Pack in Washington. It all made sense on paper: attend the mate gathering, meet wolves from other packs, and perhaps walk away with the partner fate had promised me since birth. In my heart, though, I was nervous. What if it turned out the same as all the other mate gatherings? What if I left, still feeling that lonely ache in my chest? I pushed away the thought as best I could. The flight was long—from Paris to Amsterdam and then to Portland
I stood in the doorway of my apartment, my heart pounding so loudly that I was sure Sophie could hear it. The overhead lamp cast a warm light across the living room, illuminating the scattered evidence of my messy lifestyle—music sheets, guitar cables, and a precariously tilted cello case. She and I had come all this way—quite literally, on her part—and the reality that she was truly here, in my space, felt surreal. Sophie’s breath fanned across my cheek as she leaned in, and the tension in the air crackled with electric anticipation. My pulse raced, every inch of me straining toward her. The fresh scent of her skin—warm and a little sweet—curled around my senses, chasing away the lingering chill from outside. Her gray-blue eyes searched my face, and I realized she was waiting for me to close the final gap between us. I whispered her name, unable to control the tremor in my voice. The corner of her mouth quirked with the slightest hint of a smile, and I felt a surge of daring race th
Evie placed her hands on either side of my head, trapping me against the door. My heart fluttered, filled with anticipation. Her gaze dropped to my lips, the questions swirling in her mind. Before she could speak, I gripped her sweater and pulled her closer, our torsos bumping together. A soft gasp escaped her, and our restraint snapped. We kissed hungrily, with a fervor that bordered on desperation. All the pent-up longing, the nights I’d lain awake in France, imagining my mate and our first night together, now guided every motion. The taste of her lips intoxicated me, and I sighed against her mouth, letting her slip her arms around my waist. A strangled moan escaped my throat when her fingers skated under my sweater, brushing the warm skin beneath. Between kisses, we shed more layers. First, my sweater, then hers, tossed onto the floor. A flush heated my skin when I realized I was standing here in my bra and pants. Under normal circumstances, I might have felt self-conscious, but E
It was well into the evening when persistent knocking pulled me from blissful sleep. My body felt heavy, and I blinked in confusion, slowly realizing that Sophie’s bare back lay beneath my hand. Memories of our bond flooded back—her teeth at my neck, the thrill of becoming mates. The knocking came again, sharper this time. As I lifted my head, I noticed Sophie sleeping peacefully, her dark hair splayed around her. I almost ignored the sound to stay curled around her warmth, but my wolf, Noria, grew annoyed. My phone lay dead on the sofa; I had missed any calls. Reluctantly, I slipped from her side, pulling on some clothes and tying my messy hair into a ponytail. I glanced at my reflection—happy but tired. I shut the bedroom door quietly and moved to the front door, where the knocking continued urgently. I peered through the peephole and recognized my parents, Andrew and Roxanne. A wave of unease washed over me. My parents rarely showed up unannounced. Taking a deep breath, I open
The bathroom mirror reflected Evie and me standing side by side, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but marvel at how surreal everything felt. My soft pink lace dress hugged my figure, the delicate floral appliqués shimmering faintly under the warm bathroom light. The fitted bodice gave way to a flowing A-line skirt, and the soft curls of my hair framed my face, half pinned up at Evie’s suggestion. It was rare that I felt this beautiful, but tonight wasn’t just any night—it was Valentine’s Day, and for the first time, I had someone to share it with. Evie adjusted the sweetheart neckline of her lavender mermaid gown, and I turned to watch her. The dress hugged her figure like it was made just for her, the appliquéd beads catching the light with every slight movement. Her brown curls cascaded over her shoulders, soft waves framing her glowing amber eyes. She caught me staring and smirked, her cheeks flushing faintly. “You’re staring again, you know.” “Can you blame me?” I teased, step
The bathroom mirror reflected Evie and me standing side by side, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but marvel at how surreal everything felt. My soft pink lace dress hugged my figure, the delicate floral appliqués shimmering faintly under the warm bathroom light. The fitted bodice gave way to a flowing A-line skirt, and the soft curls of my hair framed my face, half pinned up at Evie’s suggestion. It was rare that I felt this beautiful, but tonight wasn’t just any night—it was Valentine’s Day, and for the first time, I had someone to share it with. Evie adjusted the sweetheart neckline of her lavender mermaid gown, and I turned to watch her. The dress hugged her figure like it was made just for her, the appliquéd beads catching the light with every slight movement. Her brown curls cascaded over her shoulders, soft waves framing her glowing amber eyes. She caught me staring and smirked, her cheeks flushing faintly. “You’re staring again, you know.” “Can you blame me?” I teased, step
It was well into the evening when persistent knocking pulled me from blissful sleep. My body felt heavy, and I blinked in confusion, slowly realizing that Sophie’s bare back lay beneath my hand. Memories of our bond flooded back—her teeth at my neck, the thrill of becoming mates. The knocking came again, sharper this time. As I lifted my head, I noticed Sophie sleeping peacefully, her dark hair splayed around her. I almost ignored the sound to stay curled around her warmth, but my wolf, Noria, grew annoyed. My phone lay dead on the sofa; I had missed any calls. Reluctantly, I slipped from her side, pulling on some clothes and tying my messy hair into a ponytail. I glanced at my reflection—happy but tired. I shut the bedroom door quietly and moved to the front door, where the knocking continued urgently. I peered through the peephole and recognized my parents, Andrew and Roxanne. A wave of unease washed over me. My parents rarely showed up unannounced. Taking a deep breath, I open
Evie placed her hands on either side of my head, trapping me against the door. My heart fluttered, filled with anticipation. Her gaze dropped to my lips, the questions swirling in her mind. Before she could speak, I gripped her sweater and pulled her closer, our torsos bumping together. A soft gasp escaped her, and our restraint snapped. We kissed hungrily, with a fervor that bordered on desperation. All the pent-up longing, the nights I’d lain awake in France, imagining my mate and our first night together, now guided every motion. The taste of her lips intoxicated me, and I sighed against her mouth, letting her slip her arms around my waist. A strangled moan escaped my throat when her fingers skated under my sweater, brushing the warm skin beneath. Between kisses, we shed more layers. First, my sweater, then hers, tossed onto the floor. A flush heated my skin when I realized I was standing here in my bra and pants. Under normal circumstances, I might have felt self-conscious, but E
I stood in the doorway of my apartment, my heart pounding so loudly that I was sure Sophie could hear it. The overhead lamp cast a warm light across the living room, illuminating the scattered evidence of my messy lifestyle—music sheets, guitar cables, and a precariously tilted cello case. She and I had come all this way—quite literally, on her part—and the reality that she was truly here, in my space, felt surreal. Sophie’s breath fanned across my cheek as she leaned in, and the tension in the air crackled with electric anticipation. My pulse raced, every inch of me straining toward her. The fresh scent of her skin—warm and a little sweet—curled around my senses, chasing away the lingering chill from outside. Her gray-blue eyes searched my face, and I realized she was waiting for me to close the final gap between us. I whispered her name, unable to control the tremor in my voice. The corner of her mouth quirked with the slightest hint of a smile, and I felt a surge of daring race th
Standing in my childhood bedroom in Paris, I considered canceling my flight for a Valentine’s Day mate gathering in Silverclaw. My father insisted I wouldn’t meet my mate if I stayed in Les Hurleurs Sanctifiés, the pack I grew up in. At twenty-one, I was well past the age when many wolves find their mates; friends had found theirs by eighteen or nineteen. My mother encouraged me, saying the bond was worth the effort. So, as Valentine’s Day approached, I gave in and booked my flight to Portland, Oregon, the nearest major airport to the Silverclaw Pack in Washington. It all made sense on paper: attend the mate gathering, meet wolves from other packs, and perhaps walk away with the partner fate had promised me since birth. In my heart, though, I was nervous. What if it turned out the same as all the other mate gatherings? What if I left, still feeling that lonely ache in my chest? I pushed away the thought as best I could. The flight was long—from Paris to Amsterdam and then to Portland
Winters in Bloodmoon have always been beautiful, but it’s the kind of beauty best shared with someone else. I had no someone else. I was alone in my tiny apartment, in that awkward in-between place where my wolf demanded companionship I still hadn’t found. I’m eighteen, living on my own for the first time, enrolled at the University of Portland for music…and mateless. It was lonely in ways I couldn’t describe to my friends. At university, my classmates saw a seemingly normal freshman, a girl with a bright smile, wavy brown hair, and a knack for the cello. They didn’t see how my wolf, Noria, prowled inside me, restless and craving that fabled mate bond. It was a Friday night, one I should have spent partying or doing anything with friends. Instead, I planned an evening of tragic solitude. I’d just flopped onto my sofa, halfheartedly scrolling through N*****x. My reflection in the dark TV screen caught my eye first: hair tumbling past my shoulders in loose brown waves, warm-toned skin w
Dear Readers, Love has a way of surprising us—especially when fate steps in. Thread of Destiny is a story about friendship, longing, and the magic of fated mates. It’s a sapphic paranormal romance that blends the thrill of unexpected love with the warmth of a second-chance connection. If you’ve been following my stories, you may already be familiar with Evie and Sophie. Evie Rock is the younger sister of Rohan Rock, whose love story with Shikoba Thorn unfolded in Cult of Love (featured in The Genius Delta). Sophie Blanchett was first introduced as the French nanny caring for Rohan and Shikoba’s twin daughters. Their paths crossed in the past, but they were just side characters in someone else’s love story. Now, it’s their turn. Evie also made a small cameo in Her Second Chance Mate, and some of you may remember last year’s Valentine’s novella, A Moonlight Valentine, where love took center stage. This year, fate is weaving a new thread, one that connects two hearts who never expected
Dear Readers, Thank you for taking the time to read this Anthology. I hope you have enjoyed all the stories it contained. With the conclusion of The Hybrid’s Vampire, we have come to the official end of this Anthology. I will take the rest of November off to work on a project. You can follow me on social media to stay current on what I'm working on. I will return to Goodnovel in December with Her Second Chance Mate, Alex Whitland and Holly Boland's story. Bring tissues! See you son and thanks for all your support! Bryant
As we entered the hall, I locked eyes with the various members of our family, and my vampire bandmates posted up around the room. Someone I knew was truly loyal to us was watching all the exits, which made me feel safer. The elders and their sons were already waiting on the stage. Christian, Elton, and Otto spotted us and hurried over with concerned expressions. “What’s wrong?” I asked, skipping any small talk. “Something feels… off,” Christian whispered, beckoning us to an alcove away from others. “Define off,” Sage said. “Beyond that, your families and the vampires are on high alert and watching all the exits?” Otto folded his arms. “They were weird all day. What’s up with that?” Elton asked. “Back to what’s off.” I nodded my chin to Christian. “Our dads and grandads. They... I can’t place it, but they’ve been acting weird the closer we’ve gotten to the ceremony.” Christian whispered. “Spit it out, kid.” I hissed. “Auðr.” Sage elbowed me. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.