"His lips traced the curve of her neck, searing fire into her skin as his hands roamed, claiming every inch of her. Selene gasped, arching into him, her nails raking down his back. “Say it,” Ryker growled against her throat, his breath ragged, his body demanding. “Say you belong to me.” But she wasn’t just his. She was power itself. And tonight, she would show him exactly why." A strikingly beautiful and powerful Alpha, she was raised to lead her pack with strength and wisdom. But on the night of her ascension, she was shattered. Her fated mate—the one destined to stand beside her—rejected her. Publicly. Brutally. And in that moment, Selene broke. Or maybe… something awakened. As the humiliation settles like poison in her veins, Selene discovers a truth long buried—she is Moonborn, the child of an ancient prophecy. With power that eclipses even the strongest Alphas, she is meant to rule not just her pack, but all packs.. Then there’s him. Ryker—a rogue wolf with a past carved in blood. He steps into her territory like a storm, bringing with him danger, temptation, and secrets as deadly as her own. Their attraction is instant. Catastrophic. And though she fights it, Ryker is the one who stirs her deepest desires. But is he her salvation? Or her downfall? Betrayal lurks within her own pack. An enemy from the shadows seeks to claim her throne. The council of elders wants her power erased. And when Ryker’s true agenda is revealed, Selene is faced with the most devastating heartbreak of all. But she is no longer the broken Alpha. A story of rejection, seduction, and the rise of a ruler who will not be tamed. The Lunar Queen is coming. And she bows to no one.
view moreNight had fallen like a shroud over the ruined Ashen Courtyard, torchlight flickering against charred pillars and blackened stone. Nyra stood amid the scattered ashes, her midnight gown torn at the hem, the wind whipping her silver-threaded braids around her shoulders. Every breath she drew tasted of smoke and blood.Before her knelt the rogue prince, Caelum Varis, his robes soaked through with sweat and dust. His once-proud face was pale beneath the scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. Caelum’s steel-gray eyes met Nyra’s, and for a moment all she saw was the man who had betrayed her, forced her into exile, and then ignited a tempest of passion that neither of them could quell.Her hand clenched into a fist. “You led my people into the trap,” she said, her voice cold as a blade. “You sold me into chains. You murdered countless souls with lies and steel.”Caelum’s gaze flickered with regret. His voice was heavy, ragged: “I did what I thought was necessary to protect what I loved.
The moon hung low and full over the Silver Fang Citadel, its pale light spilling through the arched windows of the grand banqueting hall. Long tables of polished obsidian gleamed beneath a canopy of silken banners, each embroidered with the silver wolf sigil of Nyra’s line. Guests from every corner of the realm had gathered to celebrate the fragile peace between the Moonborn and their former enemies, and to honor the triumphant return of Queen Nyra, daughter of Luna herself.Candles flickered along the vaulted ceiling, gilded chandeliers swaying gently as torches flared in the cool night breeze. Musicians tuned their strings in a corner, the low hum of lutes and the soft tap of drums promising revelry. Nyra stood at the head of the hall, radiant in a gown of midnight blue velvet embroidered with starlight threads. Her hair, braided with silver filaments, caught the lamplight as she smiled and greeted her people. At her side stood Selene, her mother, whose own beauty had only deepened
The air in the Drunken Moon was thick with smoke and suspicion. Flickering lanterns hung from crooked beams, casting dancing shadows across rough-hewn tables. Nyra stood at the tavern’s threshold, her heart pounding with a mix of dread and determination. Behind her, Selene’s eyes glowed faintly in the half-light; Ryker flanked her, ever the guardian; Kaelan hovered near the back, blades sheathed but ready.“Welcome back,” rasped Garrick the Scarred, one of the first exiles Nyra had ever welcomed into her fledgling circle. He slid from the bench, the scar across his cheek twisting into a grin. “Heard you’ve been busy.”Nyra swallowed. “You all know why I called you here.” Her voice sounded small in the cavernous room. “The Council has turned on us. Corruption runs through every marble pillar and gilded throne. It’s time we made them answer.”A murmur ran through the assembled faces: thieves, rogues, fallen nobles, and freed slaves. Each had been betrayed by the very Council sworn to up
Morning light crept through the shattered panes of the vault’s east window, painting the smoke‐scarred walls with soft gold. Nyra stirred on a makeshift pallet of furs, the acrid tang of brimstone still clinging to her skin. Her hand moved to her midriff, where the faintest flutter of warmth pulsed beneath the surface, an echo of the ritual’s corruption.She rose to her feet, unsteady, and staggered toward the small basin of cold water. As she cupped it to her lips, a wave of nausea rolled through her. Nyra bolted upright, fisting the sides of the basin. “No,” she whispered. “Not now.”Before her reflection in the cracked glass, her eyes; once bright amber, danced with silver specks, an unsteady shimmer. She pressed trembling fingers to her abdomen, feeling the faint, insistent thrum of life.Selene’s voice, hoarse with worry, drifted in from the corridor. “Nyra, we need to move. Selira’s forces breach the outer walls.”Nyra steadied herself. She mustn’t betray weakness now. She nodde
Moonlight poured through the fractured sanctum windows as Nyra stumbled back onto the cold stone floor. Her chest heaved, still echoing with the chorus of her own ragged heartbeat. Selene knelt beside her, one hand pressed over the glowing void‑shadow mark on Nyra’s wrist, the other hovering as if to shield her daughter from the world’s pain.Ryker hovered at the entrance, sword drawn but unused, eyes flicking between Nyra’s trembling form and the gaping archway that had spat her out. Kaelan stood silently in the shadows, arms crossed, watching the blood‑stained rune burn slow beneath Nyra’s skin.Nyra drew a shuddering breath. “I… I made her bleed,” she whispered, staring at her own palm as though it belonged to someone else. “She marked me.”Selene’s voice was soft but urgent. “You survived the mirror realm because you embraced your power. But this mark…” She bent closer, concern creasing her brow. “It’s a challenge, Nyra. A lethal one.”Ryker sheathed his sword and knelt, pressing
Dawn’s pale light spilled through the shattered windows of the Silver Fang Citadel, but the crimson eclipse that draped the sky lent every surface a sickly red sheen. Nyra stood on the threshold of the throne room, her breath ragged, heart pounding like the drums of war. Selene, Ryker, and Kaelan flanked her, war‑torn and bruised... yet unbowed.Before them, something impossible gleamed: an obsidian mirror, freestanding in the marble antechamber. Its surface drank the red light, swallowing it into depths that seemed to shift and ripple. It had not been there yesterday."This mirror was never here before," Nyra breathed, stepping forward on unsteady feet.Selene’s hand closed around her arm. "It reflects… something else."Ryker chuckled, but it was hollow. "Looks like trouble."Kaelan’s amber eyes narrowed. "It pulses with void magic."At her command, guards formed a cautious circle, yet none dared touch the frame. The mirror’s surface shimmered, and Nyra’s reflection blurred. For a he
The torchlight trembled across Nyra’s brow as she pressed deeper into the Vault of Ancients, Ryker’s hand firm at her elbow. The air here tasted of dust and memory, of a lineage not hers. Behind them, the echo of Selene’s warning rang in Nyra’s ears: “This knowledge may free you… or bind you forever.”They emerged into the Hall of Echoing Scrolls, an arched chamber lined floor to ceiling with cracked tomes and faded parchments. At its center stood an obsidian pedestal, upon which rested the Codex Umbrae, a forbidden manuscript rumored to hold the secrets of every bloodline forged by the dark gods.Nyra’s pulse thundered as she approached. “Ryker… are you sure about this?” she whispered, her voice raw with a mixture of dread and resolve.He offered her a steadying smile. “You asked me to stand by you no matter what truth we found. I meant it.”Nyra brushed a trembling fingertip over the Codex’s cover. Runes glimmered faintly in reaction, as though recognizing her presence. She inhaled
Dawn’s first pale fingers slipped between the ancient oaks of the Moonlit Vale, turning drifting mist to silver smoke. Damp earth released its sweet, loamy breath, and pine needles still heavy with dew whispered beneath Nyra’s boots. She paused on a moss‑covered stone, eyes tracing the ruined pedestal where once stood the lost statue of the Lunar Queen. The brand along her lower belly throbbed as the runes pulsed once more, faint and urgent.Ryker waited at the clearing’s edge, the dim light glinting off the silver threads woven into his leather vest. His bare arms flexed, muscles corded like living stone. Ghost‑white fur sprouted along forearms and throat, a sign that his beastblood gift had awakened fully. In the cool air, his breath hissed like steam. He offered a crooked smile that carried both warmth and warning.“You’re later than the moon’s own rising,” he called, voice low and amused.Nyra slipped the hood from her hair, letting damp strands fall across her forehead. She nodde
Moonlight filtered through shattered battlements, casting pale shards across the ruined courtyard of the Silver Fang Citadel. The air still pulsed with distant war‑horns, a grim reminder that Selira’s forces pressed ever closer. Inside the half‑demolished great hall, Nyra stood atop the fractured dais, sword in hand, eyes burning with defiance and exhaustion. Behind her lay the bodies of allies and traitors alike; before her, the flagstones ran slick with blood and shadow.A muted gasp echoed through the hall. Nyra turned, blade lowering in sudden caution. There, in the lingering gloom, stood Myrra, her twin sister, cloaked in ebony silk, face half‑hidden by a silver‑filigreed hood. Myrra’s eyes, sharp and calculating, glowed like embers. “You summoned me,” she said softly, the words curling like smoke. “Now watch.”Nyra’s heartbeat thundered. She had expected invasion, betrayal; anything, except her sister’s arrival at her most vulnerable hour. “What do you want, Myrra?” Nyra’s voice
Chapter 1: The Mark of RejectionThe moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a pale silver sheen over the Midnight Howl Pack’s sacred grounds. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration. Selene's twenty-first birthday, the age when a wolf finally senses their fated mate. She stood at the heart of the moonlit glade, wrapped in a gown the color of raven feathers, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like stardust. Her long obsidian hair flowed down her back in soft waves, catching the light of the full moon. Her striking violet eyes, unusual even among wolves, gleamed with excitement, hope, and the unspoken longing she had buried deep for years.She wasn’t just beautiful! She was ethereal.Around her, the pack gathered, their murmurs a quiet hum of reverence and anticipation. Alpha daughter. Warrior. Future Luna. Selene had earned every ounce of respect, not because of her title, but because of the blood she’d spilled for them; wolves and rogues alike. She’d trained harder, fought f...
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