Veil of Lunar Secrets

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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The crimson moon hung low over Solhaven, its eerie glow casting long shadows across the forest floor. Eira Callen crouched in the underbrush, her breathing shallow as she scanned the tree line. The chill of the night seeped through her cloak, but she ignored it. Nights like this-when the moon was full and blood-red-were dangerous for everyone, especially for someone like her.

Born of both werewolf and vampire blood, Eira was a mistake. An abomination. The kind of creature that shouldn't exist. The Veil Keepers, the unseen rulers of Solhaven, made sure of that. If they ever found her, she would be executed on sight.

Her silver eyes darted toward Jonah, her only friend and accomplice in the hunt for answers. He was human, young and scrawny, but his loyalty was unshakable. Tonight, he looked even more uneasy than usual.

"You shouldn't be out here," he whispered, shifting uncomfortably. "The Veil Keepers are patrolling. If they catch us..."

"They won't," Eira interrupted, her voice firm. "I'm careful."

Jonah frowned, glancing at the blood moon above. "You say that every time, but tonight feels... different. The elders warned about this eclipse. They say it's a bad omen."

Eira snorted. "The elders see bad omens in their soup. I'm not going to hide because of some superstition."

"Superstition didn't kill three people in the last week," Jonah retorted, his voice rising slightly.

Eira shot him a sharp look, and he fell silent. She didn't need reminding of the recent murders. She had smelled the blood in the air, felt the unease rippling through Solhaven. Someone, or something, was hunting.

Before Jonah could say more, the sound of snapping twigs broke the stillness. Both of them froze.

Eira's senses sharpened. She smelled it before she saw it-blood, thick and metallic, mingled with something darker, more sinister. A figure stumbled into the clearing, collapsing onto the damp earth.

Jonah took a step forward, but Eira grabbed his arm. "Wait."

The figure groaned, rolling onto their back. Their cloak was soaked in blood, the fabric clinging to their body. Eira's instincts screamed at her to leave, but something held her in place.

"Help... me..." the figure rasped.

Against her better judgment, Eira approached cautiously, her hand resting on the hilt of the dagger at her waist. Jonah followed hesitantly.

As she got closer, the figure's scent hit her like a slap to the face-vampire. Her grip on the dagger tightened.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The vampire's eyes snapped open, glowing a vivid crimson. In a blur of motion, it lunged. Eira barely had time to react. She sidestepped, drawing her dagger and slashing out. The blade caught the vampire's arm, but it didn't slow down.

"Eira!" Jonah shouted, scrambling backward.

The vampire snarled, its fangs glinting in the moonlight. Eira braced herself for another attack, but before it could reach her, a massive black wolf burst from the shadows, tackling the creature to the ground.

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