MOONS OF THE RIFT

– Echoes o

ving, staring at the headstone like it might

side Greyhollow, never to return. The town claimed wolves, but Elara had always felt something deeper had taken her.

sistent, curious - too curious, her aunt always said. The kind of curious that drew h

turned to her small apartment on the edge of town, unaware that fate

unt Yvaren, Lucien Draven paced the cold stone of the hidden den. H

a sharp echo in the silent chamber. "Tw

command, a slender werewolf with pale eyes th

Ashmoor to Ravenhill," she said calmly

e, and he looked into the fire pit, seeing not flames - but his

Just rage. Just... confusion." His amber eyes

d, that wolf was

ietly among humans. He'd taken on the role of a remote IT contractor

as "Mr. Vale," the reclusive software developer. But in the dead of night, when the moo

ntionally, yes - but the blood of

" he whispered to himself every morni

Kael from afar. Koran was loyal - not out of love, but out of blood debt. Lucien had s

elf, "he moves like a ghost, but

aggressive wolf with scars down his nec

ned, "I say we drag him back t

ttled him. He'd seen eyes like that before -

ic. Dusty, wrapped in aged leather, and bound with a claw-shaped clasp. Inside

ught as she t

arth and Lunaris align and swap spiritual inf

l is this?" s

unfinished, but t

the heart of Earth, balance ma

from the journal.

ked from the rain, ho

a slight smile. He'd offered to fix h

er eyes. "You're

ale," h

ds brushe

ancient stirre

, Lucien gazed

. "Koran. Thorne. The Blood Fang tw

ead. "You believe

him. Like poison in my veins.

g shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more beast than man. His scars

hing primal in Lucien. He stepped away from the flames and approached the stone wall that overlooked the val

what lives beneath t

will. If war comes again, they

horizon. "This time, we don't

d to the Blood Fang twins. I want the old magic reawakened. If he's

st slightly. "You'd ris

from the hole he's hiding

way from Elara's apartment and disappeared into the trees, hi

to himself than to Thorne. "There's something

mirked. "Doesn't matter. Broken o

ng red tattoos down their arms and glowing yellow irises that shimm

host," one of them said,

ghosts always come w

bed. The ink shimmered faintly under the moonlight spilling through h

y return - or

ard the trees outside. For a brief moment,

hey we

ng stirred. Something that had bee

et, but she was more

as th

l's fu

ien's

te of bot

n Rift was

-