All Chapters of The Darkside of the Moon: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Selena approaches the weathered door of Demika's house, her heartbeat quickening with every step. The events of the previous night still gnaws at her, a relentless reminder of her failure. She hesitates for a moment before knocking, a silent prayer on her lips. When the door creaked open, she is met not by her friend, but by Granny Minama, the venerable matriarch among the remaining African-Americans left in Clovis City. Her eyes holds secrets as deep as the forest that surrounds the entire Laketown."Selena, dear," Granny Minama greets with a warm, shrewd smile, her voice laced with the wisdom of countless lifetimes. "Come in, dear. Demika is upstairs, but she hasn’t been herself since last night."Selena steps into the sitting room, the air thick with the scent of dried herbs and the crackling energy of ancient magic. She is almost paralyzed by the scent of mistletoe, a natural herb that is most poisonous to werewolves.Even though Grandma Minama had hurriedly put them away, she sti

Selena leaves Demika’s house, the weight of her emotions pressing heavily on her chest as she strides down the path toward the pack house. The sky is overcast, a low rumble of thunder in the distance hinting at the brewing storm—a reflection of the turmoil inside her. Her steps are purposeful, each one fueled by the anger and frustration that has been simmering since she found out about the attack on Demika.As she approaches the pack house, the grand structure looms before her, its imposing presence only heightening the tension that coils within her.Her mind races with thoughts of Demika—her best friend, almost killed because of a failure in the pack's security, or so she thought. The fact that an omega from the Aramanthian Pack had been able to infiltrate their territory without detection infuriates her. More than that, it terrifies her. If the pack can’t even protect its own, what hope do they have against their enemies? She knows she has to confront Wilson, the Alpha, and demand

The evening air hums with tension as the grand hall of the Pack House fills with a motley assembly of Clovis City’s most powerful. The gathering is a spectacle of power and intrigue, where alliances are as fragile as glass and secrets hang in the air like unspoken curses. The room is dominated by the presence of Alpha Wilson, his authority palpable, as the leaders of various packs, district heads, and even a few distinguished humans convene under his command.Selena together with the cowering Demika—gradually growing confident, especially with her new-found mojo, and a willful she-wolf by her side—strides into the hall, her heart pounding like a drumbeat. The weight of her purpose is heavy on her shoulders. She’s not here to cower in the presence of Alphas; she’s here to make sure her best friend gets the justice she deserves.Her eyes scan the room, noting the stern faces of the council members—22 Alphas in all—each with their own agendas hidden behind stoic expressions.At the far e

Selena’s mind is a whirlwind of emotions, but one thing is clear—she’s in way over her head. This isn’t just about Demika or Charmaine anymore. This is about her, about them, and the dangerous path they’re both treading.“Wilson…” she starts, but he cuts her off with another kiss, more urgent this time, as if he’s trying to drown out the doubts in her mind.She responds in kind, her hands tangling in his hair as she gives in to the emotions she’s been fighting for so long. This is madness, but it’s a madness that consumes her, that pulls her under until she’s drowning in it.When they break apart again, Wilson’s expression is fierce, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that makes her knees weak.“You belong to me, Selena,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re mine.”His words send a thrill through her, a heady mix of fear and exhilaration. She knows she should push him away, should fight the pull he has on her, but she can’t. She do

Alpha Wilson raises his hand, the signal that the execution is to begin. The clearing falls silent, the only sound is the rustling of leaves in the wind. Jason steps forward, his eyes locked on the Omega, his blade gleaming in the dim light. The Omega does not flinch, does not beg for mercy. He stands tall, his chest heaving with labored breaths, his eyes fixed on Selena.“Retribution is a blade forged in the fires of justice, yet wielded by the hands of those with patience and precision. It is not the frenzied slash of revenge, but the calculated strike that waits in the shadows, allowing time to sharpen its edge. True retribution is not blind, but rather it sees with clarity the scales of wrongs and rights, balancing them with an even hand. It is a force that does not seek to merely satisfy the thirst for vengeance, but to restore the equilibrium that was disturbed. It knows that in the act of retribution, the lesson lies not only for the one who receives the blow but also for the o