The full moon that night was almost mocking in its brightness. She’d left her journal on the kitchen table, open to a sketch of the moon with a tiny crack drawn across it. Next to it, a cup of tea—still steaming, though she’d been gone for hours. The back door was unlocked, and the wind chimes were going wild, even though there wasn’t a breeze. Her slippers were by the door, perfectly aligned, like she’d stepped out of them mid-stride. The weirdest part? The clock stopped at the exact time they said she died, and no one’s been able to fix it since.
The night she died under the full moon was eerie, almost like the universe knew something we didn't. The first clue was the scattered petals—white lilies, her favorite—leading from the garden to the old oak tree. They were fresh, as if plucked moments before. Then there was the music box left open on the windowsill, playing a lullaby she used to hum. It shouldn’ve been there; it was stored in the attic for years.
Near the tree, the grass was flattened in a perfect circle, like someone had knelt there for a long time. No footprints, though. And the strangest part? Her diary was open to a page dated that same night, but the entry was written in ink that hadn’t existed when she was alive. The last line read, 'The moon remembers what the day forgets.' I still get chills thinking about it.
It’s the little things that haunt me. Her favorite scarf was knotted around the porch railing, though she hadn’t worn it in years. The radio in the kitchen kept tuning itself to static, no matter how many times we turned it off. And the photo album? Every picture of her had the same odd blur over her face, like the camera refused to remember her clearly. The coroner said natural causes, but nothing about that night felt natural. The moon was too bright, too knowing. Even now, I half expect to find her sitting in the rocking chair, humming that tune she loved.
After she died, the house felt colder, like the warmth left with her. The most obvious clue was the book left face-down on the couch—'The Moon and Its Secrets,' dog-eared on a chapter about lunar omens. Her reading glasses were perched on top, smudged with something dark. Outside, the garden gate swung open and shut on its own, though there was no wind. And her cat, who usually hid from strangers, sat staring at the moon all night, yowling like it was trying to tell us something.
Clues? Oh, there were too many to ignore. Her silver locket was missing—the one she never took off—but in its place was a single black feather tucked into her collar. The police brushed it off, but I know ravens don’t just drop feathers like that. Then there were the scratches on the back door, deep and deliberate, forming symbols if you squinted. Her tea cup was still warm, though she’d been gone for hours. And the mirror in the hallway? It showed her reflection smiling, even after they’d covered her body. Superstitious nonsense, maybe, but I can’t unsee it.
2026-06-16 10:22:14
12
View All Answers
Scan code to download App
Related Books
The Lost Daughter of Blood Moon
S.Bharuth
10
10.5K
***Sequel to His Blood Moon Queen***
It has been twenty-four years since Dominic and Athena Thunders lost their first born and only daughter to an overlooked enemy, from the rogue pack they defeated, then known as the Night Crawlers. Since then, Athena and Dominic had three sons all handsome, but they longed for their sister to be found alive or dead; their parents needed closure. Athena and Dominic lead Blood Moon to every victory and every loss; their love burned bright despite the loss of their daughter Zephyra; they searched everywhere in the hopes that they would find their lost daughter and bring her home… but have they searched everywhere?
Across the globe in the city of Mexico, life was different for a girl named Zephyra. Trained to be an assassin from a young age, Zephyra is given the opportunity to leave Mexico and the task to kill the Alpha and Luna of Blood Moon Pack, so, what happens when the moon goddess plays her card of twisted fate for you to find your mate, and everything starts to change. What happens when you find out that your whole life has been a lie? What would you do if you found out that you were raised to kill the very people that brought you into this world? What would you do if you found out you are the lost daughter of the blood moon pack?
In a city full of crime and secrets, Detective Evelyn Cross is given a dangerous case—brutal murders that only happen on full moon nights. As she investigates, she makes a shocking discovery: werewolves are real, and someone is using them to kill.
Her search leads her to Damian Voss, a rich and powerful businessman who secretly runs the city’s criminal underworld. The werewolves work for him, but when a new and even deadlier threat appears, Damian gives Evelyn a choice—work with him, or watch the city fall apart.
Now, Evelyn must decide if she can trust the man she was trying to take down. As they race against time, the line between right and wrong begins to blur. And with the next full moon coming, she realizes something even more dangerous—Damian isn’t just controlling the werewolves. He might be one himself.
My mate Jackson died saving me in the great fire.
I couldn't accept the truth that he was gone, so I decided to end my life by jumping into the silver pit.
But the Alpha David saved me—twice—while making his rounds among the soldiers.
He stayed by my side, comforting me, afraid I might try to take my life again.
Slowly, I began to accept the idea of being claimed by him. But then, at his birthday party, I overheard something that shattered me.
"I want to claim her as my Luna," he said, "but I still can't compete with her deceased mate, even after being with her for three years. She always pulls away when I get close, and I give up each time because I don't want to force her. But if she were to die for me... my wolf would be overjoyed—he would finally have found his fated mate, someone willing to die for him."
I was stunned—especially by the plan he revealed next. So, before he could put it into action, I decided to fake my own death.
That day, dressed in a wedding gown, I walked into the sea right in front of him.
Later, I heard he went mad, deploying every soldier he could to search for me.
But when all efforts failed, he was left alone, kneeling by the shore, sobbing like a broken mate—
the sea answering him with only silence.
The Moon has ruled the werewolves for centuries—granting power, choosing Alphas, crowning Lunas, and demanding obedience.
Nyxara was never meant to exist.
Born without a howl, without a lunar mark, and without the Moon’s blessing, she should have been weak. Instead, the Moon grows dim whenever she draws near. Rituals collapse. Alphas lose control. Wolves feel hunger where faith once lived.
Hidden by the Moonscar Pack and condemned by ancient law, Nyxara is whispered about as a coming disaster—until Kaelion, a Moon-bound Alpha raised to serve prophecy, crosses her path. His authority falters in her presence. His bond to the Moon fractures. And for the first time in werewolf history, the Moon does not answer its chosen Alpha.
As the night sky begins to darken and packs turn on one another, forbidden truths rise from buried myths: the Moon Goddess is dying, and Nyxara is not a curse sent to destroy them.
She is the vessel meant to replace her.
To survive, the werewolves must choose between clinging to a fading god…
or kneeling before the woman who was born to end an age.
Three year after my death, my former mate returned—
not to mourn me,
but to make use of me one last time.
It was the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year—the night when wolves whispered to the dead.
“Where’s Mira Thorne?” Rowan demanded as he strode downstairs into the tavern beneath the den. “Her lived here—Gavin’s sister. I need to find her.”
Dorian, the tavern keeper, glanced up slowly. “Mira?” he repeated, wiping his hands on a cloth. “She’s gone, Doctor. Died three winters ago. Same night the Moon rose red.”
Rowan’s brows knit. “Dead? That’s impossible. There’s no record.”
Dorian’s voice softened. “The family from that healing case—remember them? They found her in the alley behind this inn. Tore her apart before dawn. The healers couldn’t even retrieve her wolf.”
Rowan froze, a flicker of disbelief passing across his face before irritation took over.
“No. She’s pretending. She’s doing this to make me feel guilty.” he said sharply. “She’s hiding. She always was weak. Tell her if her doesn’t come out within three days, I’ll stop sending money for brother’s treatment.”
He turned abruptly and left, the tavern door slamming behind him.
Dorian sighed after him., shaking his head.
“brother? Her brother died before the healers even arrived… there was never any money for treatment.”
The silence that followed was heavier than snow.
Dorian watched the falling snow and murmured to the empty air, “No one pretends death, Doctor. Not when they’ve already lost everything.”
During Frostpine Pack’s winter hunt, rogue scent crossed the northern border.
Celia heard the warning, but she still cut off my retreat. She escaped with a rogue-tainted gash across her forearm. I fell into an ice ravine, and my wolf nearly died from cold and blood loss.
My fated mate, Adrian Blackwood, Alpha of Frostpine Pack, carried Celia away and never looked back.
I survived seven days in that ravine.
When the patrol finally found me, my wolf was almost silent. Adrian stood over me, furious.
“You should be grateful Celia’s arm can still heal. If her wolf had been damaged because of you, dying on the border wouldn’t have been enough.”
“The bonding ceremony is suspended. Admit you broke formation and got Celia hurt, or I won’t mark you before the pack.”
He thought I would cry and beg.
I only nodded.
“Fine.”
He didn’t know the Moon Goddess had come to me while I was dying.
When the next full moon rose, she would take the most precious things I had left.
My love for Adrian.
Every memory of him.
After that, I would leave Frostpine Pack and begin again somewhere he did not exist.
Whether he still wanted to mark me no longer mattered.
By the time they found my body, the Elena who loved Adrian Blackwood had already died in that ravine with her wolf.