Giulietta

The Last Touched is a haunting fantasy of bloodlines, broken fate, and the perilous cost of power.

Elsbeth MoonChild is the last of the touched—the final descendant of a cursed lineage bound to the flame. As Alpha of the shattered 12th pack, she bears the ruin left by her father’s crime: the murder of the queen. Branded by his betrayal, hunted by her former chosen mate, and driven into exile with the last of her people, Elsbeth has one desperate path forward—to survive, she must stake her claim in the Rite of Queens, an ancient trial that demands strength, sacrifice, and the will to rule.

But the Rite does more than test her body and mind. It pulls her backward in time, submerging her into the forgotten life of her ancestor—the first queen. As memories bleed into dreams and dreams into waking, Elsbeth begins to unravel a long-buried truth: the flame in her blood is not just magic. It is a weapon. A curse. A gift once traded in blood and sacrifice to end an age of chaos.

And she is not the only one who carries it.

Julia, her estranged sister—exiled, fire-born, and half-mad with hunger—is no hybrid. She is the living echo of the power their bloodline tried to bury. Ruthless, charismatic, and driven by the belief that the throne was stolen from her, Julia is building a gospel of grievance and flame. Her army grows in the shadows, fed by secrets and stolen children. And with each ritual, the ancient seal weakens, waking something that was never meant to rise again.

Torn between duty and desire, Elsbeth clings to the one thing that keeps her tethered—Fen, her true mate, a being older than he appears, hiding a divine truth of his own. Their bond runs deeper than fate, but it terrifies her. To surrender to it would mean choosing love over the kingdom. And if she falls too far, the flame inside her might burn her from within… just as it did her father.

As old gods stir and the fire in her blood begins to answer the call of something watching from beneath the ice, Elsbeth must decide: will she become the queen her people need? Or the weapon her blood was meant to wield?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
It's come to my attention that I accidentally set my privilege chapters to start too early, to make up for this (since I'm unable to change that) I've set up an 80% Privilege Chapter Discount launching May 2025 for all privilege tiers.  I hope you still give my book a chance so that you can fall in love with the characters as much as I have while writing it.

The Last Touched: Rite of Queens

The stone chamber was cool and damp, the air thick with the scent of wet ash and scorched skin. It wasn't a dungeon exactly—those were deeper still—but it was no guest room either. Just a circular holding cell laced with old runes and fitted with reinforced stone water troughs that pulsed faintly with magic.

Her wrists were shackled behind her back, and her ankles were lashed with silver-threaded iron, bare feet resting in one of the shallow, rune-laced water bins. She winced every time the liquid touched her skin, but she didn't cry out. Even now, with half her tunic burned away and a streak of dried blood across her cheek, she stared at me like she still had the upper hand.

Bright gold eyes. Sharper than glass. Angry as fire.

She didn't flinch as I entered. Just lifted her chin, refusing to look away.

"Comfortable?" I asked, folding my arms.

A Different Tune