The Blood of The Hollow Moon

Noctarion n

pierced only by the pale glow of the Hollow Moon. The moon didn't

it puls

ere the trees whispered secrets and the wind carried emotion like scent.

permission. But Seren wasn't just a werewolf. She wasn't just a witch.

ched for the silver pendant aro

ed when the Holl

hing ancient pressing against her soul. The witches called it the Drift, and Seren had learn

gure stepped into view-tall, cloake

he stranger said, voice li

linch. "Neithe

m not here for you. I'm

The ground beneath

the Hollow, something

-

d leaves. The stranger didn't move. His cloak fluttered in th

eep

Trial of Threads. They were the enforcers of balance, the gua

ng?" she ask

't you? The pull. The hunger. The Hollow Moon

. "I don't know what

d softly. "You'v

bent away from him. The Drift re

ts screamed. Sh

-

red, branches reached. Emotion magic saturated the a

down a mossy slope. Her pendant burned against her chest. The Hollow

of the forest, where the trees thinned an

lapsed to her

r hadn't

ething

round her, soft an

around.

time from within. A memory.

ever meant

-

her-an expanse of silver grass and ancient stones. In the distance,

there. Had to

, she nee

, where the Moonbound wolves kept t

-

n and guarded by scent wards. Seren passed through them

es lounged on stone ledges, sharpening claws, whis

st

ad-shouldered, amber-e

like witche

in Thor

oke the

w a K

ilence

ven. The Hollow Moon is waking. I felt it.

rrowed. "You're

pendant. "Then w

-

n fell

tunnel that opened into a chamber lit by bioluminescent moss. In the center s

d on the stone. I

" he said. "Born during the Hollow Moo

ward. "Maybe I wa

rted. "Or

. "I need to go

. "They won'

'll bre