Children of the Moon (Through The Wolf's Eyes Book 1)

A blood moon rises. A forgotten legacy awakens.

Marked by mysterious tattoos and pursued by monsters, Azalea is thrust into a hidden world of lycanthropy, shadow magic, and ancient bloodlines. When her twin brother is taken and her own powers begin to spiral out of control, she's forced to confront a destiny tied to an ancestral war and a monstrous heritage she never wanted.

As visions blur reality and loyalties fracture, Azalea must train with those who would just as soon see her fail—including a stoic wolf warrior burdened by secrets of his own. Every choice she makes pulls her deeper into a conflict that spans realms, threatening to consume both the human world and the supernatural one.

Gripping and immersive, Through the Wolf’s Eyes is a dark fantasy about identity, transformation, and the bonds that shape who we become—even when blood says otherwise.

Start reading Through the Wolf’s Eyes and discover the legacy that could save two worlds—or destroy them both.

Excerpt from the book

The Echoes of the Past

“Splish, splash. Splish, splash.”

There once was a girl and her little brother who found themselves at the foot of a house’s patio on a rainy day. They didn’t remember how they got there.

One minute, they were asleep, wrapped in warm blankets on their beds at home—the kind of sleep so deep it almost hurt to wake from. The next, they were clinging to the thick, damp fur of a giant white wolf as it bounded silently through a forest shrouded in mist. Rain tapped gently against their faces, cool and rhythmic, and the wind whispered lullabies through the trees. Azalea remembered blinking up at the sky, trying to catch the drops on her tongue. Aziel clung to his waist, wide-eyed but quiet, as if he too sensed the magic—or the dream—in the moment. Neither spoke. Neither screamed. It felt too real to be imagined, yet too strange to be anything but a dream.

By the time their bare feet touched the cobbled stone at the patio’s edge, the wolf was gone. As if it had never been there. Their father was already knocking on the door.

It was a tall, two-story house, with roses blooming in mismatched colors all across the garden. Smoke curled lazily from a chimney to the left. Vines crept down the gray walls like veins, covering most of the house’s face. Two windows stared outward, curtains drawn, but the glow of light hinted that someone was home.

The children rubbed their eyes, blinking away sleep and rainwater, just as their father knocked one last time. They could hear rummaging from the other side. Someone was coming.

He turned, crouched to their level, and pulled them both into a tight embrace. The warmth of his coat, the scratch of his beard against their foreheads—it all felt like goodbye.

“I know this is all too sudden, and I’m sorry that I have to do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking with guilt. “Azalea…” He placed something firm and sealed into her hand—an envelope. “I need you to take care of your little brother, Aziel. I’m going to be leaving for a while, and this person… she’s going to look after you while I’m gone. I trust her with all my heart. And I trust you.”

He kissed them both on the forehead again, lingering a moment longer than usual while trying his hardest to hold back the tears that were swelling up in his eyes.

Both children cried out to their father not to leave them. They even held onto his legs as if to beg him to stay. The father stood up and lovingly unlatched their hands. He got on one knee again and gave them another warm embrace. The children couldn’t tell if there were streams of tears running down his face or if that was just the water from the rain.

“We love you, Papi. Please don’t leave us,” said both children, almost in unison. The father hugged them tighter as his lips began to quiver.