1 week later *Zac* “Nick ! Nick ! I need you”. I call through the house ... where the hell did he go ? I told him that I need him for this. The door open and LZ comes in, he takes one look at me and grab his phone, snapping some pictures. “This ... you in an apron, that is just too good not to eternalise”. “Have you seen Nick ... the bastard deserted me”. I make a face. “I have no idea how long to bake this”. He sends me a cheeky grin. “Why are you baking ? Is there someone you want to kill ? Because I am sure there are easier ways then”. “Well actually right now I do have this urge to kill someone ...”. I huff just as the door opens and Nick walks in. “Nick ... help ... how long should I bake it ?” He looks into the oven and then he starts to laugh rather uncontrollably. “God Zac, that recipe was for 12 small or 6 normal cupcakes ... it said so on the top of the paper, you need to read it all”. “Ohh ... I thought it looked a bit big, but I can just bake it longer right ?” O
*Cynamon* Right now I am regretting telling Zac I can do this alone, because being 25 weeks pregnant and carrying five boxes of miniature cupcakes are ... let's say it as it is ... not easy, and being me of course I wanted to carry them all at the same time, because ... Well I am lazy. And Zyka is going. ‘Watch out, curb ahead … don't tip them’. Doesn’t help. I am in Austin, at a kinda cake, candy and chocolate trade show, convention thing. It’s a great place for getting you things noticed and tomorrow there is a competition I am entering. Zac had wanted to come to support me, but I told him no, too big of a chance of getting noticed. “Oh wow ... let me give you a hand there doll”. I hear a friendly and melodic voice. “That’s a lot you are carrying, especially in your condition ... oh I really hope you are pregnant or I just like totally fucked up ... here let me take some”. The three top boxes are lifted away and a beautiful young blonde woman is smiling at me. “Thanks, and I a
3 weeks later *Zac* I have to admit that I am tired, but also rather excited when I pay and exit the taxi outside my home. I have been away for three days for some work on a tv show and I was not supposed to get home before tomorrow, but when we finished filming earlier than expected I decided to take an evening flight and surprise Cynamon. So here I am, sneaking into my own house at half past one in the night, expecting to find my pregnant fiancee asleep in our bed. Only, she isn’t, instantly making my anxiety flair. “Darling ?! Cynamon ?!” I call, walking through the house, after having put my bags down. Where can she be. She is nowhere to be seen, and I realise neither is Blue. Can she be walking the dog at this time ? Or has she gone somewhere and taken him with her ? But if she went somewhere wouldn’t she tell me ? Walking outside I see that the light is still on in the small guest house where LZ is staying, probably he is editing some pictures or film on his computer. So
*Cynamon* I look at him, nervously waiting for a reaction, beside staring at me with his mouth hanging open in a rather unattractive way. ‘I fear we broke him’. Zyka mumbles. ‘I really did try to be nice’. This was not how I wanted him to find out. ‘Give him a moment, it’s a rather huge thing for humans’. “You … you…”. He swallows hard and try again. “You are …”. I guess it’s a big plus that he hasn’t run away yet. “Yes, I am a werewolf …”. “I was going to say naked”. He looks rather sheepish. “But that too … you are not gonna eat me, are you ?” “If I wanted to eat you don’t you think I would have done that a long time ago”. I give him a cheeky smile, but his expression tells me that it might be a bit too much for him with jokes. “No Zac I am not gonna eat you, and neither is Zyka”. He blinks a couple of times. “Zyka ?” “Zyka is my wolf … she likes you”. I am kinda using a tone like he is a scared animal that might bolt”. “Oh she does ?” He looks at me like he isn’t sure if
5 weeks later *Cynamon* “Well hello there my most beautiful fiance”. Zac’s arms slides around me from behind, landing on my bulging belly. “And my little jelly bean ... how are my two best … Uhm three best girls ?” ‘Aww he remembered me’. Zyka purrs. ‘He is just the sweetest sweetheart’. I lean against him, breathing in ... he has just showered after his work out and he smells so amazingly fresh and clean. “I am tired and she is having fun using my blatter as a bouncy castle”. “Jelly bean be nice to mommy, she is working hard on growing you”. He says softly, caressing my stomach like he can actually touch her through my skin. I am actually surprised how Well he has taken this whole, ‘sorry babe I am a werewolf’ thing. Once in a while he seems about to freak, but then it is like he takes a deep breath and gets himself under control. “I think she likes your voice ... she always goes calm when you talk to her”. I mumble. I love this. Our small private intimate moments, honestly Z
*Cynamon* “Why are there so many decisions to make ... I mean it’s just a small intimate wedding”. I sigh as me and Evie walk out on the back porch after spending two hours with the wedding planner. “Well, weddings are like … super complicated, but hey at least you are not one of those bridezillas ... and Zac actually seems to want to be involved, even though I am not really sure how much you should let him decide, I mean his colour scheme was ... no ... definitely no”. Evie laughs. I giggle. “I love Zac dearly, but that colour ... awesome ... It's pretty but not for a wedding, too bright. I prefer more muted colours”. ‘It would so clash with my fur’. Zyka moans. “I didn’t even know there was a colour called awesome, I mean that is kinda awesome but ...”. She goes quiet and her eyes blow wide. “Oh hello handsome ... who is that ?” “Who ?” I look up to see Nick and LZ walking over the grass, they are both laughing at something. “Uhm you mean Nick, he is Zac’s friend ... canadian,
*Zac* “Hi darling ...”. I stop in my tracks seeing LZ and Evie sitting close together looking at his laptop. I lean in kissing Cynamon on the cheek and letting my hand cup the baby bulge. “Soo what’s happening with those two ?” She smile softly, placing her hand on top of mine before whispering back. “Young love in progress ... she saw him and ... according to her he is the most handsome and amazing man she ever saw”. “Aww ... that’s sweet. I mean LZ totally deserves it. I would probably just have thought Nick was more her type”. To be honest they do make a cute couple and LZ is smiling even wider than usual. “She told me she likes smaller guys ... apparently they are easier to cuddle”. She whispers softly. “Look at them, so cute together”. I wind my arms around her, pulling her as close as her belly allows. “Well I happen to think I cuddle pretty well, despite my size”. “Oh you do Zac ... you give the best cuddles”. She leans up to kiss right under my ear. “And me personally,
*Evangeline* I look at myself in the mirror ... jeans and a striped button down shirt, not very fairy like but LZ had sent me a text saying I should wear something casual that would work for inside and outside, and as it’s a pretty warm spring day, so this seems like a good choice. Also I am not about to tell him my secret, not yet. I have made the mistake of telling a guy to fast one time. He called the government, wanting money to deliver me for experiments, Luckily for me they thought him insane and locked him up. My doorbell ring and I go to open, finding a smiling LZ wearing jeans, sneakers and a nice hoodie ... just as I expected. “Hi LZ, you could just have ... like honked, I would have come out”. “No way ... I am not delivering a pizza, I am picking up a beautiful woman”. He leans in to ghost his lips softly against mine. “So ready for a fun and interesting afternoon ?” “I am and you are just the sweetest”. I can’t help smiling, sweet, handsome, smart and a true gentlema
*Zac* The sun dips low on the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as laughter and music spill out of our backyard. I glance around, soaking in the vibrant scene before me. The air is thick with the mouthwatering scent of Cukier’s famous barbecue, and I can already hear the sizzle of meat on the grill. “Is everything ready, Cukier?” I call out, catching a glimpse of my brother-in-law, his brow furrowed in concentration as he flips burgers and hot dogs with the finesse of a master chef. “Absolutely! Just about to throw on the corn,” he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. There’s something about his determination that makes me smile. He seems to always be the responsible one, but tonight, he’s relaxed, enjoying the moment with all of us. I turn my attention to the rest of our guests. The yard is a tapestry of familiar faces: Cynamon’s family, the werewolves who’ve come to celebrate. Her Aunt Elowen is chatting animatedly with LZ, her laughter ringing like m
*Cynamon* It feels so good to be home. I am standing on the back porch with Zac, hearing Cukier and Nick bickering like an old married couple inside in the kitchen, as they are cooking dinner. But one thing is missing, my baby. Then it is like the air shimmers and a small tickling reaches my ears and there is LZ and Evangeline. A bundle nestled in LZ's arms. I pull away from Zac, a warm glow blooming in my chest. The world around us is shifting… freedom for my kind is within our grasp, and yet, right now my heart races only for our little girl. “Clementine,” I murmur, my eyes darting to the grass where I see LZ cradling her with such tenderness. I can’t help but smile at the sight. ‘She’s safe, Cynamon. Breathe,’ Zyka whispers softly, her voice like a gentle breeze brushing through my mind. I nod, feeling the reassurance wash over me. Zac squeezes my hand, grounding me. “Let’s go see her,” he says, and I can hear the eagerness in his voice. We make our way over to LZ, who is
*LZ* I sit on the soft mossy floor of the sanctuary, Clementine nestled against me, her tiny body rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. The gentle glow of the flowers around us flickers softly, like tiny stars caught in a moment of stillness. I don’t know how long we’ve been here in this place that feels like a dream, but there’s a strange comfort in the uncertainty. Each day is a blend of wonder and worry, punctuated by the need to keep Clementine safe. As I absently stroke her hair, my eyes wander to the enchanted window. Outside, the world bursts with life. Creatures of all shapes and sizes dart through the twilight, their calls ringing like chimes in the wind. A small, furry creature with bright blue fur and large, curious eyes hops by, stopping to peer at us as if assessing whether we’re friend or foe. I chuckle softly at its antics, and it seems to sense my amusement, giving a playful leap before scampering off into the underbrush, leaving behind a trail of sparkli
*Zac* I can hardly believe my eyes as a helicopter's blades slice through the air, kicking up a storm of dust and debris. My body tenses, not sure if this is good or bad. The moment I see the figure stepping out, my heart skips a beat. It’s President Karina Horton, flanked by Nick and Cukier. They managed, they got to the actual president. The small group stride forward with an air of authority that demands immediate attention. "Let him go!" Karina's voice booms, cutting through the chaos like a knife. The guard holding me tightens his grip, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The President’s presence is magnetic, and even the bravest of men can feel their resolve wavering in the face of such power. "You are not in charge here… I take my orders from Braxton Hayes or Syler Smith only," the guard barks back, but I can see the sweat beading on his forehead, his confidence faltering with each passing second. “I am your President, and my orders outrank any other,” Karin
*Cynamon* I am sure this is where my life ends but suddenly, a piercing alarm shatters the tense silence of the room. The doctor's head snaps towards the sound, a mix of irritation and urgency crossing his features. He rushes to the intercom, pressing the button and speaking into it, but the blaring alarm drowns out his words. I strain to catch any hint of what's happening, but it's useless.He returns to me, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "It seems your human mate has made an appearance," he says, the syringe still in his hand. Then he mutters, mostly to himself. “What an idiot.” I trash against the restraint, “Zac is here, at the compound?” "If that’s his name, yes and you should be happy. You'll see him again soon, in the afterworld… or wherever freaks like you go,” he says. Panic surges through me, a tidal wave of fear and desperation. They can't hurt Zac. Not him. Not my mate. Clementine will need her father. Inside me, Zyka stirs, her presence growing stronger, fueled by
*Evangeline* The pain in my wing is sharp, a constant reminder of the bullet that tore through it. I grit my teeth, focusing on the road ahead while my magic works to heal the wound. It's more severe than I let on, but I can't show weakness now, Zac needs me to be strong. I know the magic will mend it in time, but for now, every movement sends a jolt of pain through me. Zac's voice breaks through my thoughts, a mix of concern and urgency. "You don't have to come with me, Evangeline. I know it's dangerous, but I... I can't wait any longer. But if you stay behind, I'll understand." I glance at him, seeing the fear and determination in his eyes. He's worried about dragging me further into this mess, but he doesn't realize that I'm already in too deep. "I'm coming with you, Zac. We're in this together," I say firmly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The thought of what might happen at the compound sends a shiver down my spine, but the risk is worth it if it means saving Cynamon
*Zac* The air crackles with the sound of gunfire. I see Evangeline's face, I am not sure I have ever seen anyone look that furious, but her eyes are full of determination, as she throws that paperweight. Then, it feels like the world is a blur. One second, I'm staring down the barrels of several very scary-looking guns; the next, I'm falling. Falling really fast to a certain dead. The wind screams past my ears, a deafening roar that drowns out the shouts and the still-echoing gunfire. As the ground rushes up to meet me, I close my eyes, hoping for a miracle. Suddenly it is like time slows, or actually I slow. My eyes springs open and Evangeline is there, holding me, her face pale, but her eyes blazing with relief. Those goddamn fairy wings are unfurled, shimmering like iridescent stained glass in the twilight. She looks strained, almost burdened by something heavy. Me. Her breathing is slightly laboured. She lets out a groan, and I feel like apologising for my size,
*Evangeline* The polished floor gleams under the harsh fluorescent lights of the corridor. My hand, still clasped tightly in Zac's, feels clammy. Each step echoes, amplifying the tension that coils in my gut. This place… it reeks of sterile efficiency, a thin veneer masking something far more sinister. Zac’s words about horrors still hang in the air, a chilling echo in the silent, imposing hallway. We're led into a vast, minimalist office. Braxton Hayes, the CEO, sits behind a massive desk, his face a mask of controlled composure. He looks like a hawk, sharp and predatory, his eyes scrutinizing us. “State your business,” his voice is smooth, devoid of any warmth. It's the voice of a man accustomed to power, accustomed to getting what he wants. Zac steps forward, his jaw tight. “We know about the werewolves.” The CEO raises an eyebrow, a barely perceptible movement. “I assure you, you have the wrong end of the stick.” His voice is laced with a disarming calm, a deliberate
*Nick* A week. A week of dead ends, each one a fresh stab of despair. Then, a crumpled napkin, discarded near an overflowing ashtray in a dimly lit bar… a name scribbled on the back: Miles Kendrick. Low-level security, gambling debts visible in the tremor of his hand, and a weakness for expensive bourbon. Cukier’s eyes, usually hidden behind a screen of nervous energy, gleam with predatory amusement. “Our key,” he murmurs, the words a low purr. “A little… persuasion, and Kendrick will be more than happy to unlock the President’s private suite. For a price, of course.” The Grand Hyatt looms, a steel and glass monolith against the bruised twilight sky. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scent of polished marble and expensive perfume, a stark contrast to the stale beer smell clinging to Kendrick. Cukier, a chameleon in a perfectly tailored suit, moves with a practiced grace that borders on supernatural. He isn’t just walking; he is gliding, his presence subtly erasing itself from t