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
Raggedly panting, staring at our red, flush faces in the mirror, I let out a soft giggle. Instead of smiling back, Cyrus immediately reached high above me for a towel and soaked it in cold water. Applying it lovingly to my reddened cheeks, I stood up, watching his movements in our shared reflection. His rugged face was a mix of desire and guilt. “You need to use the safe word, you know. If I were to ever hurt you-” “If I ever needed to, I would. But why would I stop you when it feels so good?” “Don’t,” he growled darkly, planting kisses on my collarbone, “you’ll fill my head with ideas.” I leaned backwards, resting the top of my head on his chest so my eyes gazed up at him. Gold still flickered in his eyes as he took in my naked body, his seed was rapidly escaping between my thighs. He growled again as I slid my hand between my legs. “Ideas like what? Tell me?” “Angel…” Furrowing my brow, I whispered, “What are you scared of? Look at me," allowing my other hand to snake up into
The drive back up north was awkward as hell. Waiting around for everyone to pack up their goods didn't help. It wasn't my camp, but I volunteered to load heavily wrapped supplies thrown at me with menace by the grey-eyed Fabian. All these men are so ready to help Reu, Elvie, and The Light. They won't have a bad thing said about them. Their stern, roughly bearded faces are set with absolute certainty they are doing the right thing. It just makes me feel hollow. Dozens of men briskly prepping, the camp buzzing with anticipation. Ready to rain hell on anyone threatening The Light. Even if a few do worry about the possibility of Mireille murdering everyone. Throughout the pack-up, Dill and Fabian watch me closely, presumably because I'm still under suspicion in their eyes. Because I left. Correction. Because I'm a fucking idiot who abandoned the bunker. I should have lied and said I was a brave scout. Too late now. "Can we get going now?" I hissed at my father, it took me so long to
Even though Mireille is apparently useless at hiding her sore, presumably well spanked ass by gliding onto the mattress as awkwardly as a three-legged bull, her advice was sound. I can do it. I just need to set everything up. Reject Ryan, make a quick, painless getaway, and start living for me. Easy as pie. Sneaking past the dining hall, dominated by a huge stone fireplace and long wooden tables, I caught sight of Ryan eating breakfast. Sat alone, just rubbing his beard in thought, stirring his porridge with a sour expression. Turning away from the door threshold, a familiar pair of hands grabbed me, and I found myself looking straight at my father. His green eyes sparkled to see me, quickly pushing some stray tendrils behind my ears and cupping my face. “Hi,” I whispered. “I need you to do something for me.” He nodded, tapping his heart in ready willingness. “I need Arlen. He has the key to the snowmobiles? Then I want you to stand guard while... I reject Ryan, just in case he
The moments after Ryan’s departure were pure chaos. Arlen gingerly stood up, wiping the snow from his face and shaking his arms vigorously as guards rang bells and air horns blared. All of us are too late to help Hope now. “He jumped me, little shit. Reu, do we have spares?”“No and all the trucks were lost before the Freeze.”Cyrus stiffened before asking, “Do we shift? Track and trace?”“They’ll be hours of straight driving, I doubt even you could follow at their speed,” Arlen sighed, looking out into the distance.“What about Howen?” as I saw Quinn and Dee running out, the windows of the towers jammed with the faces of old people nosey enough to stare but not venture outside. They won’t feel the cold again until next winter. They almost turn into tortoises and hibernate away in my parents' lodgings.“What about him?” my father asked suspiciously. So he hadn’t apologised for doubting him yet then.Arlen panted, waving away my fathers attempts to help. “Howen knows she’s left. He wa
I couldn’t have gotten this more wrong. Hope is there and I’m my fucking wolf form. My so-called rescue has turned into a sick joke. If I shift back I’ll be dead in half an hour. She’s staring at me with her iris ablaze with rosy-pink colour and it takes my breath away. It might actually be a good thing I’ve shifted because I’d have already grabbed her and babbled desperate nonsense before trying to kiss her. I need to get this right. One shot, one desperate opportunity to try and earn forgiveness from a woman who still mumbles about beating the shit out of Elvie in her sleep. I don’t think about Ryan. The taste of his blood is fresh in my mouth, scraps of his once-warm remains are wedged under my claws. That's kinder than he deserved. Her bruised eye and swelling jaw tell me everything I need to know. Even if she hadn’t got to rejecting him yet, the guy didn’t deserve to live a second longer. My father said he would be disappointed in me, if I took a life. I can live with tha
Mireille quickly filled me in, full of giddy excitement about the younger of the two men. Cal apparently.As soon as they pulled in and turned off the engines, Mireille walked quickly towards him, “you’ve just missed her! Ryan was chasing her in your direction. Did you not see Hope!” “I did,” he snapped back, and if his face hadn’t looked so broken I’d have had words with him about his tone towards my angel. “What?” she continued as Reu and I noted the snowmobiles were ours, not new machines. It meant Declan making hand gestures to leave Cal alone were not seen as she pressed on. “So where is she then? Has Ryan hurt her? She rejected him, you know, you can be together!” I stepped towards them, as Mireille turned to look at me in pure confusion at Cal’s stoney, dark-eyed silence. His jaw muscles are working overtime, his teeth gritting venomously. My angel had imagined a fairytale. Reject Ryan and gain Cal. I don’t know the man, but it’s clear that hasn’t panned out. My wolf picks
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,