Of course, I didn’t get any sleep before my shift in the tower. My head is one useless mess of conflicting emotions. The full moon is tomorrow, at any moment the Rogues and Mireille could appear. All I can think about is the fact that my wolf raged in jealous fury for Ryan. My mate. The one I should be fighting for. Who I know doesn't suit my personality and desires.Who could arrive any day now. Or not. I could be left in limbo. I could have killed her. My control was so limited when I grabbed her neck, my wolf’s fury pressing me to take it further and further to protect our bond. It’s terrifying.Mainly because there is a tiny seed of fear growing in my mind. What if Ryan is the one to stop me turning into someone violent and cruel? I never hit people before? I didn't swear to kill and get bloody revenge on leaders. Have I unravelled because of being underground or because I've lost sight of my mate?Stil, being an utterly callous bitch theae days, I used the last of my waning str
My fathers words leave me breathless. I try to break down his thoughts sensibly. Take the emotion out of it.. Unfortunately my first instinct is to run away and scream he’s a fucking idiot into the howling wind. I loved the fact Cal wants to make my old villa at Finley perfect for us. Is that such a bad thing, to return to a place I always enjoyed living? To be marked under the stars and live contentedly? Happily ever after. That's meant to be the fucking goal! I shove the letter into my pocket and do another scan of the horizon with my binoculars.Some of his words do prickle at the back of my conscience. Cal definitely has courage. No doubt about it. He ran into a hail of bullets and shifted to try and tackle Ervin for a start. Then I came unstuck. Loyalty? He has openly hated being under Reu and Elvie. He flirted with the idea of joining Ervin for real I’m sure, at one point.He believes in the superiority of his alpha bloodline yet is content to be a sexy as sin, hammock-lazin
I only slept because I knew Cyrus was there. Just inhaling that rosemary scent of his calms every nerve in my body down. He must be so tired. He’s huge and brimming with strength, but he’s not indestructible. Waking just as dawn started to break, I was aware of him watching me. It made every inch of my tingle. “Morning,” I smile. Cyrus leans over and strokes some of my silvery hair from my face. His face is paler, circles around his eyes where exhaustion is finally creeping in. Then I remember what Dee did, and my smile dropped. The deadly revenge she took without either of us having a clue. “What are we going to do?” “There are only six of us now. It’s up to you, Angel.” “We’re so close, I don’t understand why she would do something like that.” “Quinn is right, though,” he answers with a heavy sigh. “How much can we really judge?” He is right. In my head, Cyrus is composed of several compartments. There is the tattooed, brooding, possibly unhinged Lycan killer. That version of
Watching the shambling, slow-moving figures had been hypnotising. All four of us were glued to our binoculars, trying to recognise faces or shapes in the shadowy darkness ahead. Vera had a small brass telescope, Rey, Elvie and I, binoculars. My eyes were drawn to the tall one. Well, how could they not be? He moved differently to the rest, his steps were lumbering but powerful, his whole body swaying into the deep snow. His stride must be enormous. “There’s more than one woman in that group, look at the legs, the cut of the coat,” I whisper as Elvie and Reu nod in agreement. “Mireille must be one of them, she has to be,” Elvie added, not flinching in her observance for a second. When the full moon completed its ascendance and activated its powers all of us took in a deep breath. My heart tugged. Even more painful than normal. My wolf is unbearably restless. The frustration of missing Cal is getting to us both. The frustration of Cal in general, to be more accurate. “Shit, wait, w
My gun is already over the side, I have no tricks to try. The narrow high walkway promises a broken leg if I try to jump off. Mixed in with the smell of bonfire, gunfire and Elvie’s blood is that intoxicatingly fruity scent. I inhaled a stronger waft. It’s melon. It’s the scent that once made my wolf jump and skip with pure excitement. Vera looks at my confused, struggling face and laughs.“Little Hope. Always the victim, always needing rescuing. Oh I’m so sad about my mother. Until Ryan came on the scene. Oh I’m so sad about my mate leaving me, and there’s Cal! You’re pathetic.!” Mistaking my shocked face for distress, the sting of her hatred burnt painfully. “Well, I’ve ended up with absolutely nothing. Just like you!”“We are not the same. You were always nothing,” she spat, “You’re the child of nobodies. A psychotic Beta and a rankless mother. You know the only reason you’re not dead right now?”“Why?”“Because I promised your precious Papa that his allegiance would keep you al
I’d used every last bit of reserve energy to surge towards Mireille. My mate. I had pure joy coursing through every cell that the Goddess had seen me worthy of her. For as long as I am lucky to live, I will make sure I deserve that blessing. And then some fucker shot me.The coat Mireille crafted made me feel like a king. I didn’t realise it had turned me into an immortal God. The sheer force of the bullets ploughing into my chest, a few skirting past my forehead, sent me flying to the ground. Dazed and dizzy, when I came around, it was to the shouting mayhem of Sven. He and Quinn were slapping my face and pinching my nose to try and rouse me.“Wake up we need to fucking move! We need the guns! There’s no blood so get the fuck up!” Quinn shouted, delivering another blow across my jaw despite my eyes being wide open. In the background I heard Dee slapping and shaking Mireille who lay on her back in the snow.She had been shot too?That was the end of me lying on the floor. My Lycan w
I felt so foolish letting my tiredness overwhelm me like that. My wolf nudged and pressed me to keep my eyes shut however hard I fought against it. It took my wolf suggesting the babies were in danger if I kept trying to stand up to finally slump into the frozen air. My tired wolf spirit sternly reminded me of the days and nights trudging through the snow, restless sleeps, poor or no food too. Underneath my coat, there is a sizable bump now. Every day, I tread a little closer to entering another alien land. Parenthood. I swing between terror and excitement. Trudging through the snow, I tried thinking of names and came up with nothing. Yet in my dreams, I smell rosemary, entwined with warm baking. I’m busy at a wooden kitchen island. Cyrus leans over it, watching. Baby babbles in the background. His sun-dappled face is silently studying me, his huge arms resting on the wood. Pure strength and power. Honey glinting in his hazel-eyed gaze. Every muscle begins to relax. He's my mate.
The instant we turned and saw my crestfallen Papa and Arlen, my heart shuddered.. He’d heard everything. How disappointed Rue was in him. How a friend from his teenage years could happily murder him, considered his existence a thorn in his side. His hair is still mostly the same fiery, wild red as my own, but his face is so sad it hurts to look at it.Beta Arlen is not a tall man. He doesn’t command a room with his presence or ego. He is a quiet force. Someone who has spent a lifetime content to follow. A lifetime before that surviving brutal treatment and hiding his love for Sol. But right now, he is seething. “Howen told me everything. He knew Vera was scratching around for allies. He didn’t want anyone else getting hurt, so he made sure down here was set up with blankets and food just in case it took longer than expected to sort her out.” “She’s dead. Not sorted out. She’s dead. Shot in the head.” I whispered out of nowhere. Arlen nodded with grim understanding as Ryan squeezed
Standing in the courtyard, I can feel my heart racing. It’s a strange feeling to know you’re going to die in a few minutes. I made my vow to Mireille all those years ago. I’ve been an Alpha of the North, overseen peace, and brought up our beautiful children, but this is the vow that matters. Because this promise was the one that eased my angel’s mind. Knowing we would have this final offering to the Moon Goddess and pray it is enough to free our children. /I love you/ I whisper to her, noticing her hands shake. I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. /You don’t have to do this/ she links back, her voice still as soft and light as the day I met her. Age has barely touched her. I am most definitely grizzled and rough around the edges. She is ethereal. Her pale green eyes shimmering with love and sadness, her white hair plaited tightly. She’s wearing a simple white dress. I insisted on wearing my huge winter fur. It seemed the right thing for me. /Wait, I want something/ I urge. I h
The last twenty years have been a rollercoaster, to say the least. That night in the hail, when Cyrus pulled me back from the brink and I spilt every single woe from the bottom of my soul to him, was the turning point. Since the triplets' birth, I had walked around with lead weights in my shoulders, dragging me down. Guilt chipped away at my self-confidence. To the point when I didn’t even feel I could be a Luna. Standing at the top of that tower, thinking the isolation helped clear y mind when it only bogged me further down in the doubt. Cyrus changed all of that. He took my guilt and made a solemn vow. Twenty years. If we can’t fix it together in twenty years, we will offer ourselves to the Moon Goddess. After that night in the hail, I cried for two days in a row. Once whipped away from the beam, the full horror of what I’d almost done was crushing. I couldn’t look at the children without damning myself all over again. Cyrus though, he became the Alpha. With everyone’s bl
If it wasn’t for the three women I lived with and little Opal I’d have lost my mind. Delilah hadn't changed from our blessed childhood friendship. Morgan’s mate Nell was full of bizarre ideas for preserving food and practising emergency drills. Lyra remained stoic and calm. Our lighthouse of sense and hope. Opal cried for her Daddy, and I had to try not to join in with her. I had to promise her he would come back, based on nothing but pure, desperate hope. It turned into full-scale war out there. The various Rogue armies were enormous, but they never quite made it to Filney. We were prepared, though. Thanks to Nell, we each had a gun safely stored by the bed. Escape routes planned. Little Opal still slept with me, keeping her close to my heart. Finally, one day, they returned. Trucks pulling in to Lyras white walled villa woke us up. One by one, we all screamed with excitement. Cal didn’t even try to trick or provoke me. He just pulled up the truck and sprinted towards us.
**FOUR YEARS LATER** I don’t know how time flew by so quickly. Everything Cal promised me has come true. We have bickered, disagreed, and walked down the beach in a huff. Mainly me each time, knowing he would be sat on the porch waiting for me with an amused smile. That lopsided grin that makes my stomach flip. We never stopped fighting for each other. Not for a second. It's been everything and more. That first morning, dozing in the hammock together, I woke up with a start. Realising the time, how late I was for retrieving poor Button made me scramble and swing so violently he crashed to the floor all over again. “You know I might ban you from my lovely hammock,” he groaned. I just laughed and pulled him up, pretending to rub his muscular shoulders, back, chest better until he growled and finally bent me over that porch. It was perfect. Of course, Button was absolutely fine with Declan and Lyra. They were already playing on the beach with her, Declan, having his toes burie
“Shit, the weather look,” she whispers, lifting her head up from my bare chest. From our cosy tower room, we can see wind is starting to howl, hail pelting the glass. The first savage winter snowstorms have begun.“It’s time to start prepping,” I grunt with disappointment, sitting up to get a better look. My beautifully naked angel sits in between my legs, allowing me to start nuzzling my chin against her neck. Her hand absentmindedly trails up and runs through my dark hair, keeping me close to her. “We’ll be underground for the first moon,” I add, which is the only thought that makes the idea of humping all those supplies down below bearable.“Hmm, you might be right. Let’s see how it goes,” she whispers back in a soft little voice before turning to plant a loving kiss on my grizzled cheek. “Better get dressed,” she groaned before pushing me down back onto the mattress and climbing on top of me. My fingertips brushed against her still red, warm asscheek and she jumped at the sensat
** TWO YEARS LATER **The first snows have landed. The next full moon is a fortnight away, but we will probably be underground before then. No pilgrims have arrived this month either. Things are a lot quieter at the Fortress these days. The grand days of my parents' first few years have definitely waned. A trickle of pilgrims instead of floods now make the dangerous journey over the mountain tops.I still stand at the top of the fortress and watch the sun descend. Every night, I stare at the black ridges of the mountains. I did it as a child. I did it the night before the rogues arrived and turned my life upside down. Now I stand every night we are above ground and observe its fiery descent and try to be thankful for what I have. Three wonderful children. A mate who worships me. Loyal, wonderful friends and family who made the last two freezes more than bearable. At first, I struggled with my survival. When Cyrus held me in his arms and told me dozens of times how he doesn’t need
“Hey there,” wasn’t the smoothest opener, but there was nothing else I could say. In the same way he knew my heart would melt for the flowers he put in the inn, he must have known that I would make some kind of entrance. My coppery hair is down, catching the breeze. For once I felt like a queen in my black dress after leaving Button with her kind-of adoptive grandparents. It’s tight, strapless, hugging my curves and showing off my long legs just as I intended. I don’t want my reunion with Cal to be about Button, as much as I love my little wonder. We'll get there, after tonight. After all, this moment has been a few days in the making. Cal’s not the only one capable of making plans. In fact, the first people I saw were Lyra and Declan. When I produced Button from out of the passenger seat, I felt a surge of panic. “She’s not Cal’s,” I said too quickly to sound polite. Then, allowing her to scamper off merrily towards the sand, I added softly, “She’s technically not mine either. I’
It’s a good job Hope was still asleep when I left. Otherwise, she might have caught up to me parked on the side of the road, still completely torn in two as to whether my gesture was romantic or insane. I ran my hands through my shaggy brown curls so many times it’s a wonder I wasn’t bald when I finally pulled up to the shoreline. Nine months after setting off I’m finally home. I raced home in dangerously quick time, panic-stops excluded. Because I have a home to build. A life to prepare. Howen and Pearl’s old villa at Finley is still magnificent, but it hasn’t been lived in for over five years. When I knocked on the door, there was only my mother there. Half a second of shock was followed by fifteen minutes of being almost throttled by her cuddles and kisses. Her long black hair was wavy from her morning swim, her gentle face full of worry. She quickly explained that my father had left to help Mireille and Cyrus after being summoned.. “So…what happened with Hope? I’m guessing tha
Only after she fell unconscious did the room check who was actually capable of performing such surgery. Sven and Quinn immediately pointed to me and my heart sank to its lowest, darkest depths.Slicing open her soft, perfect skin was terrifying. The tautness of her bump meant every cut felt far too deep yet not enough. Plus, if I didn’t hurry, the medication would wear off and leave her enduring more pain at full volume.With my poor angels whimpering cries finally silenced, you could hear nothing but the tearing, slicing sound of raw flesh as I cut ever deeper. With everyone's eyes burning into me, the blade shook in my hand.. “Hurry, this is no time for hesitation,” Arlen insisted. Stifling a growl, I steeled myself and made a sweeping horizontal incision. Then it was a mad rush to gather the babies. Cords were snipped, Arlen telling what to remove and what to stitch. I blindly followed, vaguely aware of tiny cries in the background but unable to do anything but care for my pale,