It's a simple arrangement.

Wolves show up at Melori's door bleeding, growling, occasionally trying to bite the woman stitching them back together. She fixes them. They leave. She doesn't ask why they keep coming back.

She probably should have asked.

When her cottage is attacked, her best friend turns out to be a werewolf, and every wolf Melori has ever fed table scraps to walks back into her life on two legs. None of them are happy she knows about them. Especially not the alpha. The one with the scars. The one with the missing eye. The one she's been spoon-feeding rabbit stew for years.

Keer doesn't trust humans. He doesn't want her in his territory, doesn't want his pack depending on a healer who argues with him in a voice pitched high enough to shatter glass, and definitely doesn't want to think about why he can't stop watching her hands while she works.

But the same flowers Melori uses to save lives are being weaponized to take them—and she's the only one who knows the difference between the poison and the cure.

War is coming. The pack is splintering. And Melori, who chose this quiet life on purpose, is starting to wonder if she was alone out here all this time—or just waiting.

Moonbright is a standalone werewolf romance featuring a healer who thinks in spirals, a one-eyed alpha, found family, inverted lunar mythology, a pink chicken named Nugget, and a slow burn that earns every spark.