LOGINSixteen-year-old Vera Moonlock has survived the slums of the imperial capital by wit and stealth—but when a drunken soldier targets an innocent child, her dormant power erupts in a flash of psychic fury. Branded the “dream witch,” she’s dragged to the feared Judgment Tower, where the empire confines its most dangerous Alphas. There she meets Lucien Thornehart, the legendary Mad Wolf King, whose mind teeters on the brink of madness. Bound by necessity—and a fragile pact woven in the dream plain—they shatter their chains and ignite a rebellion under the rising Blood Moon. From the Howling Spire to the storm-lashed heights of Skyforge Citadel, Vera and Lucien must master their mismatched gifts: her star-blood dreamcraft and his feral alpha wrath. As they breach iron gates, outwit psionic dampeners, and rally hybrids and humans alike, they discover that the true enemy is not a single tyrant but the systemic fear that binds them all. In a final reckoning on a frozen lake, they redeem a fallen prince, unite former foes in the Constellation Accord, and found Ember Tower Academy—where the next generation will learn to guard freedom with fang and dream. *Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon* is an epic saga of power, mercy, and the unbreakable bonds forged in shared nightmares.
View MoreShe was running through the woods laughing at the game she was playing, looking back every so often to see how far behind her sister was, and then she saw The Man. She came to a halt, almost tripping over a tree branch in the process as her hair whipped forward and she stared at him. He was dressed in nothing more than a simple gray t-shirt with blue pants and what appeared to just be regular boots. He seemed like a harmless man, but the way he stared at her made her want to run and hide from him.
He was standing and staying still, breathing heavily, reeking of something that made her gag. “Little girl,” he had slowly said to her.
His own voice startled him and made him gag when he smelled his own breath. The man he had feasted on was drunk, so Thomas hadn’t the need to knock him out after drinking from him. Clearly, the smell of his alcoholism had lingered on Thomas' breath along with the man’s blood as well.
But it only bugged Thomas for a moment as he saw the girl before him, described as her sister had said.
She had long red hair that was starting to turn brown, suggesting auburn hair in the future. Her eyes so wide with fear were starting to dull from a blue to a brown, making them a dull hazel color for now. Her sister had said that she would be six years old, but what Thomas saw was something completely different. He saw her for what she truly was. A warrior ready to defend her family, ready for anything that was thrown at her and ready to defend whatever was necessary. People only saw the six year old girl, the girl that loved playing outside, the girl that was still playing with Barbie dolls at home in her room. But Thomas saw much more than that, he saw past her looks and into the future of what she was to become.
He saw his one and only love.
Finally, the girl seemed to remember what he said to her. She gulped before replying, “Mama doesn’t want me talking to strangers.”
He roared with laughter. “Well,” he said. “My name is Thomas.” His laughter cut short and Thomas smiled mischievously. “I guess we’re not strangers, although I do not yet know your name.”
“Tam-Tammy,” she stuttered. In three long strides Thomas was in front of her. Yes, the plan was working perfectly so far as Tammy’s sister had suggested. Tammy shifted uncomfortably as he sank his nails into her shoulder where he was gripping her currently.
“Can you please let me go,” she asked nervously. She squirmed a little and wished the man would let her go so she could go back to mama for sparklers; it was almost time to light them. Annabeth would come looking for her soon, wouldn’t she?
“What’s the rush, kiddo?” he grinned at her. He could feel her anxiety to get back home. Oh, wouldn’t they be surprised when she was suddenly ill for the next few days? The transformation called for her to be sick as the venom would try to take over, but her body would try to fight it off like any other disease.
“Yes. Can you let me go now so I can return back home and-” Tammy was cut off as he bit down onto her left shoulder instead of on her neck. Tammy cried out in pain, and saw images she didn’t understand. A woman with two different shades of eye color… a big man wearing a suit looking disturbed… two crying infants, and then toddlers chasing each other…
He then laid the six year old on the ground as she whimpered in pain and he breathed in her face a little until she was knocked out cold. He stood up and wiped his mouth as his fangs retracted back into his mouth. “Welcome Tammy, to the Vampire world,” he whispered. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as her hair started to transform colors more, making it now a visible auburn color. He opened up her eyelids and saw that her eyes had now become a bright hazel color and he smiled to himself; the venom was winning the battle already.
A half hour later, her sister –Annabeth –found Tammy curled up into a ball crying. She immediately went to her knees in front of her sister, “Tammy! Tammy, what happened baby?” She gently pulled her sister's head into her lap and willed her to open her eyes soon. Tammy stirred for a little more, moaning in her sleep before finally opening her eyes and making Annabeth gasp with shock at her eyes.
Her sister licked her lips and asked in a hoarse whisper, “Is the man gone, Annabeth?”
Annabeth shivered; she knew what happened and she was prepared for this moment.
“What man honey? All I see is you,” Annabeth replied. She smelled the air and noticed the blood, and examined it more closely. Already the wound was starting to heal at a rapid pace. Annabeth picked up her sister with ease and said, “Come on baby girl. Let’s get that cut cleaned up, okay? Then we can light some sparklers for you.” Tammy nodded and held out her arms for her sister, and Annabeth picked her up and headed home.
The rebuilt Howling Spire—now Ember Tower Academy—rose like a white flame against the twilight sky. Lanterns of crystal cast soft violet halos across the courtyard; laughter and chatter drifted from the classrooms below. Vera Moonlock stood on the academy’s upper balcony, leaning against the carved stone parapet, her silver-threaded gown glowing in the last light of dusk. Beside her, Lucien Thornehart flexed his armored gauntlet, watching the young initiates practice dreamcraft and sentinel drills on the tiles below.“Listen,” Vera murmured, voice soft with pride. From the courtyard drifted the hum of a dozen dream-silk generators—trays of silvery thread humming with students’ fledgling energies. “They’re weaving the Circle of Shared Pain.”A group of fifteen children—human and hybrid—stood in a ring around a low crystalline pool. Their voices rose in harmony:> “By moon and fang, by silver tide,> We bind our hearts and cast aside> The fear that lingers deep inside.> In
The amphitheater lay in ruins, its marble seats cracked and overturned, ash from the Spire’s destruction settling like gray snow. At dawn’s first light, a provisional council had gathered on the kaleidoscopic mosaic of the arena floor: defected Sentinels in battered armor, hybrid elders draped in dream-silk stoles, human guildmasters in soiled robes, and former slaves bearing scars of crystal collars. Above it all hovered the shattered constellations of Ember Hollow’s dream-lanterns, their violet glow flickering against the pale sky.Vera Moonlock stood upon the dais’s fractured dais—once the execution stage—her obsidian fang pressed at her throat scar. Beside her, Lucien Thornehart’s wolf-pulse radiated a steady warmth; his chains had been reforged into a massive symbol of unity draped across his shoulders like a mantle. The council’s murmurs hushed as Vera raised her hand.“Friends,” she began, voice clear and resonant, “we stand upon ashes and snow. Tonight, we shattered tyran
Vera led Lucien across the snow-blanketed uplands, the wind howling like lost spirits through skeletal pines. Below them, the frozen lake stretched like shattered glass, its ivory expanse framed by jagged cliffs. At the far shore, Magnus waited—his polished black armor gleaming beneath the red-tinged sun, a circle of loyalists forming a silent ring behind him.“Brother,” Magnus called, voice echoing across the ice. “Come claim your birthright—or perish where you stand.”Lucien’s crimson eyes flared. He flexed his gauntlet claws as he strode forward, cloak flapping in the gale. Vera fell back, cloak drawn tight, the obsidian fang at her belt glowing faintly with dream-silk warmth.Vera stayed close behind him. “Be careful,” she called, voice firm. “He wields diluted Star-Sleep power of his own.”Lucien nodded, jaw set. “I’ve trained for this.”They stepped onto the slick surface. The frozen lake groaned beneath their boots, fracturing in radiating lines. Magnus grinned, r
The forest’s edge gave way to a windswept plateau, its grasses crunching under Vera’s boots. Dawn’s pale light filtered through skeletal pines, casting long shadows across frost-glazed earth. She paused, breath steaming, to secure the obsidian fang at her waist and pull her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Beyond the crest lay Ember Hollow’s southern gate—her rendezvous point—and the last survivors of the purge still clung to hope beneath its arches.Vera inhaled the crisp air, tasting pine and ash. Lucien’s tracking scent had faded behind her; the creek valley swallowed his passage. Now she would draw the imperial hounds away, baiting their search into the eastern wilds. If all went to plan, refugees would slip north under cover of dawn.A distant crack made her heart stutter. She whipped around as a column of six armored riders emerged—a patrol of Gamma cavalry, visors down, lances poised. They fanned out in a semicircle, horses stamping and snorting in the brittle grass.
The Ember Hollow’s stellar chamber was hushed beneath a canopy of carved constellations. Torches set into radial niches cast dancing shadows on the vaulted ceiling. Selene’s circle of scouts—Orion, Vera, Lucien, and two defected Sentinels—gathered around a holo-map projected above a stone dais.O
Vera’s fingers tightened around the cold iron bars of her intake cell. The damp stone floor seeped through her thin leggings, and every gust of wind rattled the barred window high above. She rose on shaking legs as the cell door clanged open. Two Inquisitor guards stood at attention, their pauldrons
Vera pressed her back into the cold stone wall of the chapel’s ruined nave, each breath ripping at her lungs. Dawn’s pale light slanted across broken pews. Outside, shackled feet scraped on flagstones. The net of suppressor chains that bound her rattled whenever she dared to shift. She’d fled deeper
Vera Moonlock crouched beside the cold stone hearth, her fingers sifting through a handful of candle embers. The Riverside chapel lay in ruins—a dozen shuttered pews, a collapsed roof beam, and a single brazier someone had left burning. She fed the embers one brittle scrap of wood at a time until a


















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