By S. M. Reine
The nice woman has turn into the massive undesirable wolf... Rylie survived a werewolf chew. She strikes to her aunt's ranch within the hopes she will be able to sign up for a brand new highschool and quietly proceed her life-- other than that she transforms right into a monster each moon and struggles to regulate her murderous urges. with out many werewolves left, it's demanding to stick in hiding. A kinfolk of hunters—Eleanor, Abel, and Seth—recognize the symptoms and stick to Rylie to her new domestic.
They are looking to cease her ahead of she murders a person, and the one approach to do it truly is with a silver bullet. Seth quickly realizes the werewolf is Rylie, the single monster he didn't kill. Worse but, he's nonetheless in love along with her. Torn among relatives and love, Rylie struggles to reconcile her emotions and keep watch over the wolf inside whereas Seth fights to do what's correct. yet what's right... obeying wish or accountability?
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Additional info for All Hallows' Moon (Season of the Moon, Book 2)
Glim, missing an arm; Glim, headless; Glim bound in chains and about to be thrown overboard … Something rattled at her door, and her heart actually skipped a beat. She‟d always thought that was just an expression. She stood, fingers knotted in fists she didn‟t really know how to use, waiting. The door opened, a snout appeared, and large reptilian eyes that sagged deep in their wrinkled sockets. “Captain,” she said, making her voice as cold as possible. “We‟re in deep water,” he grated. “Don‟t be foolish and try to swim for it.
I think it bit me,” she said. “No,” he said, squatting to examine her. “If it had, you wouldn‟t have a leg. ” She brushed her eyes and looked around. They weren‟t on land—at least, not the mainland. Instead they rested on a tiny island hardly more than a few inches above the water. Indeed, at high tide it would certainly be below water. “She‟s too big to follow us in here,” he said. ” “Yes, well at least I‟m bleeding,” Annaïg managed to quip. “Yah. ” But if there were sharks around, they didn‟t fancy the taste of Breton blood, because they made it to the shore without incident.
Vague, gibbering cries, unholy shrieks of agony and fear, babbling in languages she did not know. It sent scorpions down her back. ” She strained at the jungle floor below the island, where the sounds seemed to be coming from, but couldn‟t make anything out through morning haze, distance, and thick vegetation. She turned her attention back to the island, to the glowing strands it trailed. They might have been spider silk spun from lightning, some flashing briefly brighter than others. She realized they weren‟t trailing, but dropping down from the center of the base, vanishing into the treetops, flashing white and then withdrawn into the island‟s belly.
All Hallows' Moon (Season of the Moon, Book 2) by S. M. Reine