The basement was more of a game room or lounge. There was a wet bar, pool table, and large TV, all accented by deep, rich tones and leather furniture. Just add a singing fish and it’d be a perfect man cave, if I had learned anything from binging streaming services. Bram had claimed a chair and had his body positioned away from where Isaac and I sat on the couch. Everything was tense and awkward, and had been for nearly half an hour. No one was talking, and I was growing bored. With an exasperated sigh, I stood up and headed toward the bar. It was well stocked, but with a manly collection of booze. It took a little bit of thinking, but I had a few pretty colored drinks made up eventually. I garnished them with tiny umbrellas because it’s impossible to be mad when you have a froo froo colored drink with an umbrella in it in your hand. Once they were handed out to two very confused lycans, I took mine over to the pool table and started racking up. “Hey Bram, I betcha ten dollars I c
If it weren’t obvious enough, the pool game was abandoned. It was a nice idea to alleviate tensions and get Bram at least willing to talk, but it had served a much different purpose than I intended. Blair’s arrival saved the day, and also allowed me some much needed time away from all the testosterone. Locked away in the guest room I had laid claim to, Blair and I were curled up in the cozy sitting area while the boys were on the phone with Kaleb to devise a plan. The way the lycan pack ran was weird. Isaac was the king, obviously, but it varied enough from a normal werewolf pack setup that I couldn’t determine who was beta, gamma, et cetera. This place also didn’t seem to have a luna, which confused me just as much as it made sense. However, I think we could all agree the patriarchy needed to take a step back. Blair had snuck out to obtain snacks while I perused through more books she had brought up for me. When she crept back in with chips, salsa, and wine, I was reminded how
Isaac POV As one who submitted to the powers of fate, I spent a long time researching the meaning behind names in my younger days. You quickly saw a pattern - a name was almost a prophecy in and of itself. Margaret, my Princess’s given name, means pearl. A pearl is a gem developed from dirt, grime, and bacteria, but is traumatized into a coveted thing of beauty. I stared down at my pearl, my gift borne of darkness, disgusted with everything about her. The half lives that brought her into existence, the turmoil that polished her edges, and the trauma that made her beautiful. She was everything I wanted, and everything I couldn’t have. The new prophecy left no room for negotiation. We would not be mates. I had failed her in that regard. There had been twenty three eclipses over her lifetime, and the only time I searched her out and gave us the opportunity to fulfill our fate, I left, so certain there would be another chance with better timing. If I had not been so dumb and blind,
Have you ever woken up, and just refused to move because you are that perfect temperature of warm, the blankets are just right, and the pillows are in a perfect smoosh position? You’re far from tired anymore, because you just had the most restful sleep of your life, but shifting even the slightest bit would be nothing short of a sin, as if fate was telling you your one and only purpose was to stay in bed all day. I hated fate with a passion, but in this moment, I could come to a temporary truce with her. Everything keeping me comfortable shifted, but pulled me with it. I refused to open my eyes as I was moved around against my will, moaning softly in protest. I tried to wiggle myself deeper into the security such bliss provided, until whatever was emitting such tantalizing prickles of heat laughed softly, reverberating through my skin. “Princess,” a voice whispered against my hair. “I know you’re awake.” “No,” I mumbled. Hands came up, massaging my scalp. “C’mon, you have trai
Training review: It was not that horrible. At least, it wasn’t that horrible yet. After varying warm up exercises, it seemed to be mostly circuit training. Nothing I hadn’t done before. Maybe tomorrow would be different, but for now, I was thankful it was over. Isaac had abandoned me once we entered, and I soon discovered that was because he was leading training. Apparently, it was usually Kaleb’s job, and self led when they both were gone. I had stuck to myself the entire time, simply following instructions. “Folks!” Isaac called, just as I was attempting to sneak out the door before getting roped into an awkward conversation. “We’ll have one sparring match today. Noah and the runt.” I turned slowly. It seemed like the seas were parting, and all eyes were on me. I had picked up on all the attention I had gathered throughout training, as everyone was curious about the runt that had shown up. I wondered if they knew who I was, but given the tittering and snickering I heard from
I diverged from the lycans, heading to Isaac’s cottage while they made their way to the packhouse. Outside the door, I shifted and dashed up to my bedroom. I barely noticed Bram as I ran by, but he respectfully kept his eyes trained on his book. Blair, however, was a different story. She whistled at me, cocking one eyebrow. “What?” I snapped, glaring at her as I dug for clothes. “You’ve seen me naked before.” “I haven’t seen you naked and covered in hickies, though,” she laughed. I took half a second to glance at myself in the full length mirror on the door to the closet. “Training bruises.” Her sidelong glance told me all I needed to know: the witch didn’t buy that for a second. She placed her book down and stood, heading for the door. “I have to head to the packhouse with Bram. You’ll be fine here alone, right?” “What?” I demanded. “No, I’m coming!” “I promise, I’ll tell you everything if you just appease these guys this once,” she begged. I looked down at my shirts, decidi
All eyes were on Kaleb, his claim silencing us all. “What do you mean by that?” Blair asked cautiously. He sighed, scrubbing his hands across his face. “I don’t know prophecies, so I’m probably wrong. But, it started changing when Maise got involved in the mix. Prior to that, it was only Isaac that knew about it, and he was doing everything by the books and following procedure to keep the peace. It was Maise - or more specifically, the curse of the rogue - that changed the game.” Bram grunted. “You may have a point,” he conceded. “But that’s an ambiguous thing to base an entire strategy around.” “It’s more than anyone else came up with,” Isaac grumbled. “And it’s something that can be done now.” The tension rolling off everyone in the room was palpable. It was silent, but it seemed like just the smallest little spark would cause everything to combust. That spark, however, seemed to be when Isaac brushed a strand of hair out of my face and studied the way I worried my lower lip
Isaac POV The Princess had deemed her work was done, slipping out of the room while I still held everyone’s attention. I had quickly learned she would give just enough information to do damage, then wait to see if the way we rebuilt from the destruction that information caused was what she thought was correct. I should have known. The past eight years I had been focused on my Princess. Her past eight years had been focused on her people. She had a plan, and all she had done was make small suggestions to the right people to get that plan working for her. She held all the power here, because her desire for power had not been selfish. It was in this way lycans usually died. They began to think selfishly, devising how to use their near immortality for personal gain. I had been doing that, struggling to find a way to spend Maise’s forever with her. If I had read my history books correctly, I had a minimal amount of time to right that wrong before the moon decided my gift of being a l