The only way to break the curse...is to kill the one you love. Alyenna was never meant for our world. They stole her. One moment, she is surviving the life she knows on Earth. The next, she awakens in Tendaara. A world of ancient magic, living steel, and creatures that should not exist. She does not know what she is. Tendaara does. In Tendaara, magic is not a gift. It is a part of you. A part of the world itself. Here, you do not just forge blades. You forge souls. Power here does not come freely. It is earned. through training, through survival, through spite, and the will to never let go. Alyenna did not escape her keeper. She was moved. To a world where he has more power, and to where the Queen who owns them all reigns. Scelestra the Queen of Many Faces walks unseen, wearing the form of the ones you trust most. One touch is all it takes. One moment of hesitation. One question. One loss of control. The General Aethorien misses nothing. Not a moment. Not an opportunity. Not a chance to shape her into the weapon the world will need to survive him. Because in Tendaara, power always asks for something in return. The more it grows, the harder it becomes to choose who survives, and who pays the price.

A Moonbound Saga - Book One Apparently, being safe means surrounding me with wolves who could break me in half and acting surprised when I don't feel like behaving. Silvercrest Academy sits between forest and sea, wrapped in wards older than mercy and rules carved into stone. It pretends to be civilized while training us to survive things that don't knock, don't warn, and don't leave witnesses. I'm supposed to focus on discipline. On control. On pretending the moon doesn't feel like it's watching me. Instead, Silvercrest teaches me something else entirely. Pressure. Jacob is the Alpha assigned to oversee my protection. Which is a polite way of saying he sees everything without hovering, speaks rarely, and makes the air feel heavier just by standing there. He doesn't threaten. He doesn't need to. His restraint is the warning. Kyle is one of his Betas. Kyle treats restraint like a suggestion. He crowds my space, smirks like he already knows how I'll react, and provokes me just to see what breaks first. He calls it curiosity. I call it dangerous. We're both lying. They don't argue over me. That would be simple. They circle. They test. They wait. As if I'm something feral they're deciding how close they can stand beneath the same moon without getting bitten. And then there's the other thing. The presence that slips into my dreams and follows me back out. The hush that falls just before bodies move wrong and joints bend like suggestions. The way pain isn't rushed only arranged. It doesn't threaten. It doesn't chase. It demonstrates. I've watched mouths pulled too wide to scream. Bones turned with careful patience. Someone I knew stopped being human while I was forced to stay awake and witness it. Silvercrest insists I'm protected. Jacob doesn't correct them. Kyle just smiles like he already knows better. Because whatever waits beneath the white moon doesn't care who stands beside me. It isn't watching the wolves. It's watching me.