(Hilda) The early morning rays of the sun is just starting to cast shadows on the training grounds when I arrive.I notice immediately that Arlo’s already there, deep in conversation with Percy. As if his size isn’t enough to make him an imposing figure, there’s also the raw power he exudes. I swear I’d be able to sense his presence from a mile away.As always, seeing him fills me with clashing emotions. A confusing blend of gratitude and resentment. He’s been nothing but kind to me, but his constant presence is both a comfort and a reminder of my unresolved feelings. It’s easier to breathe when he’s not around.Falling asleep in his arms last night was a torturous blessing. I’d spent long minutes feeling jittery with anticipation, more than half certain he’d make some kind of move. When I finally realized he was really just going to hold me, I fell asleep quickly, feeling more than a little bereft.I have to tune out the noise in my head and focus on my training and nothing else tod
(Soren)The camp is a flurry of activity when I get back, my mind still reeling from the encounter with King Arlo and Hilda. My heart aches at the memory of Hilda’s words and her obvious pain.As I approach the edge of our camp, I see Cerelia waiting for me, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where have you been?" she demands, crossing her arms over her chest defensively."King Arlo summoned me," I reply, trying to keep my voice calm as I explain my absence. "He wanted to talk about Hilda." Cerelia's eyes flash with anger. "Hilda again? What does she have to do with us?""Nothing," I say firmly. "King Arlo's just being paranoid. He thought I was trying to take her back." Cerelia's expression softens slightly, but her eyes still hold a hint of doubt. "Are you?" she asks uncertainly."No," I tell her, shaking my head. "Hilda and I are over. I'm with you now, Cerelia. I made that clear to King Arlo and to Hilda." Of course I don’t add how awful that made me feel.She turns to walk away, bu
(Hilda)My days are filled with a newfound sense of purpose and I immerse myself in training and the packs’ daily activities, striving to carve out my place among them.Arlo is joining our training sessions as frequently as his duties will allow it and there’s no denying the effect his presence has on me. He seems to draw my eyes like a magnet and send my body heat soaring like he’s my own personal heatwave. Worst of all, he seems to know exactly how much his presence affects me, judging by the swagger in his walk whenever he catches me gazing at him.Thank goodness for Percy’s friendship. As determined as I am to guard myself from being hurt again, I haven’t been able to resist letting my guard down around him. Soren isn’t the only person responsible for breaking my heart. Alec’s betrayal hurt nearly as much and I keep telling myself I should be wary of trusting in anyone at all.I’m not made for solitude though and compared to the blistering effect Arlo’s presence has on me, spendin
(Hilda)I can’t sleep and I’m sick of tossing and turning as I replay the conversation I had with Arlo earlier. I can’t deny the frisson of excitement I feel every time he says I’m his, but I’m not about to let him think he can order me around. On top of that, I suspect Percy’s been avoiding me today and that can only mean Arlo had a word with him.I’ve been lying here, hoping he’d come to my room to say goodnight, as he does most nights, but it seems I’m not the only one feeling a little grumpy after our talk.Fine. If he won’t come here, I’ll go to him. I’m not a ‘wait and see’ kind of girl. Taking the bull by the horns is usually far quicker and less traumatic in the long-run.When I reach his door, I hesitate for a moment, gathering my thoughts before knocking. I know exactly what I want to tell him, I just need to make sure the brain fog he always seems to inspire doesn’t get me."Arlo, it's me," I call out when I’m met with a terse, “Go away, I don’t need anything.” We’ll have t
(Soren)The camp is shrouded in early morning mist when I wake up, the remnants of a restless night lingering in my mind. I can feel the heavy sense of anticipation hanging in the air and I know Damon’s been talking to the warriors.I find Cerelia waiting for me in the kitchen, her eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and worry. "We need to talk," she tells me, her voice low but firm. In a camp full of werewolves, it’s not always easy to keep things to yourself."Soren, we need to discuss Hilda," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We can't ignore the fact that she holds valuable information. If you’re going to challenge King Arlo, we need every advantage we can get. I don’t want you walking into danger if she can help keep you safe."I hesitate, the thought of involving Hilda stirring a mix of emotions within me. "Cerelia, I don't know if that's a good idea. Hilda's already caught in the middle of this mess. Dragging her deeper into our plans could put her at even
(Hilda)I wake up to the first rays of dawn filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Arlo’s arm is draped possessively over me, his breathing steady and calm. Last night's intense emotions has given way to a quiet intimacy, and for a moment, I feel a sense of peace.Unfortunately I can’t stay in bed forever; there’s a whole new world waiting for me outside. I carefully scoot out from under Arlo's arm, doing my best not to wake him as I dress quickly and quietly, taking a moment to watch him sleep before stepping out into the hallway. The pack house is already bustling with activity. I follow my nose to the main hall, where the enticing smell of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee is wafting from. A few pack members are seated at the long wooden tables, enjoying their breakfast. My heart sings when they greet me warmly, their smiles genuine."Good morning, Luna," a young woman says affably, her eyes shining with warmth. "Would you like to join us for brea
(Soren)Cerelia’s words about using Hilda as a spy is playing on repeat in my mind as I move through the dense forest, each step careful and calculated. Early morning mist clings to the ground, adding an eerie quality to the already tense atmosphere.I hate the thought of putting Hilda directly in the path of danger, but Cerelia’s right. In the end, I may need her help in order to save her. I’ve been fruitlessly attempting to mind link Hilda, to no avail. Our bond is well and truly severed and she’s no longer a member of my pack.We need her inside knowledge, which will mean finding someone loyal to King Arlo, who could be bribed, or convinced by some other means, to carry a message to her. My search doesn’t last long. The snap of a twig alerts me to the fact that there’s someone close by. Crouching low, I move stealthily towards the sound. Peering through the underbrush, I see him. One of King Arlo's men, a scout named Rolf. He’s young, barely old enough to be a guard and his nervou
(Hilda)Arlo didn’t come to bed last night and I’m not spending another day in an agony of uncertainty.Nixie isn’t at the training grounds, so I head to the garden again. Barely noticing the way the morning sun filters through the trees, casting dappled light across the flowers.The vibrant colors of the blooms seem to mock the unease that gnaws at me. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the conversation I’m about to have. “Nixie,” I call out so I don’t accidentally startle her by suddenly popping up out of nowhere. She looks up, her surprise giving way to a warm smile. “Hilda! What brings you here?” she asks.“I was hoping to talk to you about something,” I say, my heart racing a bit now that I’m about to confront her with what I overheard. “Is now a good time?”“Of course,” she replies easily, setting aside her gardening tools and getting to her feet. “What’s on your mind?”“Do you mind if we sit?” I ask, pointing to a shaded bench under an old oak tree. I need to see her eye
TaraThe temple ruins loom before me, bathed in moonlight, the crumbling stone swallowing the bright glow. My breath catches as I step inside, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against my spine. I don’t want to be here, but Morgana wills it, and I have no choice but to obey.My fingers twitch at my sides, my hands already numb from the chill radiating from within me. I don’t belong in this place. It doesn’t want me here any more than I wish to be here, but I keep walking. Putting one foot in front of the other, going toward gods know what.In the heart of the ruins, half-buried beneath rubble and centuries of dust, lies the relic Morgana seeks. A jagged piece of polished bone, unnaturally smooth, carved with runes that pulse like a heartbeat. Dread curls through me as I reach for it with shaky hands.The moment my fingers brush the surface, a searing heat explodes through my skin. I gasp, biting back a scream, but I can’t let go. My hands burn like they’ve been set aflame, the pain s
HildaI lean my head against Arlo’s shoulder, basking in the joy of his undivided attention. We’ve managed to slip away without anyone seeing us and demanding our time. Strolling through the woods with him is a rare treat, and I intend to enjoy every second of it.Arlo’s hand is warm in mine, his thumb brushing lazily over my knuckles. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, his voice thoughtful and so sincere I immediately suspect something is up. “Since we still haven’t decided on a name, how would you feel about something unique?”I glance at him suspiciously. “Unique how?”“Something with force. Something that commands respect. Something worthy of a child who will undoubtedly be fierce and brave. ” He pauses dramatically, before asking with a straight face. “What about Fang?”I snort. “Fang? Are we living in children’s book?” He frowns at my barb. “Or Claw,” he continues, nodding as if he’s genuinely considering it. “That has a certain something. Oh, wait, no, I have it, you’re going to lo
TaraThe voices are getting louder. Not just Morgana’s, but others, threading through my thoughts like smoke, slipping through the cracks in my mind. I can’t always tell where they end and I begin.I don’t remember walking to the gathering, but I’m here. The firelight flickers, casting shadows over familiar faces. Pack mates are laughing, sharing food, their bodies relaxed in the easy comfort of their home.I used to feel that warmth, too. Now, all I feel is the cold coil of something ancient curling through my veins. I rub my arms, trying to shake the sensation.The night air is thick with the scent of roasting meat, the distant murmur of the forest beyond our territory humming beneath the chatter of the pack. Everything feels distant. Like I’m watching through a window, separated by something unseen.Pay attention, little one. Morgana’s voice slithers through my mind, low and silken. You wouldn’t want to be rude, or arouse anyone’s suspicions.I stiffen. My vision blurs at the e
HildaSleep eludes me. Even within the warm and comforting confines of my mate’s embrace. What was that earlier? I’ve never sleep walked in my life and the thought of it happening again scares the crap out of me. Can Arlo sense that I’m wandering off while I’m asleep?I lie in bed, staring at the wooden beams above, my eyes tracing the familiar knots and imperfections in the ceiling, as if finding a pattern will quiet my mind. It doesn’t. My body is exhausted, yet my thoughts are restless, refusing to settle.Arlo sleeps soundly next to me, his breathing deep and steady, an anchor of warmth against my side. For a few minutes I trade the boring expanse of the ceiling for his magnificent form. I don’t think he’ll ever stop taking my breath away with his beauty.I should close my eyes and let myself drift, but that feeling of something evil slithering through the air, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike, refuses to let me go. I can’t let down my guard or it will com
TaraThe first thing I notice is the cold. It seeps into my bones and curls around my limbs. My breath comes in quick, sharp gasps, fogging in the frigid air. I don’t remember leaving my room. But I’m sure as hell not there anymore.The stone beneath my bare feet is smooth, from years of being walked across. The air is thick, charged, humming with something ancient and evil.The temple looms around me, its high, crumbling walls stretching into darkness, the massive stone pillars casting jagged shadows in the moonlight streaming through broken shards of glass.I swallow hard, my pulse pounding against my ribs. I have to get out of here right away. But once again my body isn’t my own. My hands twitch, fingers curling, tracing patterns in the dust that I don’t recognize, yet my mind echoes with familiarity.My heart stutters when I hear the voice commanding, Deeper. It’s silk and shadow, curling into the hollow spaces of my mind. Morgana. Her presence is a phantom touch at the edges of m
HildaThe first thing I feel is the cold. A sharp, creeping chill that seeps into my bones, settling beneath my skin like frost in the dead of winter. It’s wrong. Unnatural. The kind of cold that isn’t caused by wind or lack of warmth, but by something evil spearing you with its gaze.I force my eyes open, but the darkness is suffocating, thick and impenetrable. The kind of black that exists only in nightmares, where light doesn’t dare to reach. My pulse quickens as I shift under the blankets, reaching instinctively for Arlo, but his side of the bed is empty, the sheets still warm.The sensation of being watched tightens around me like a noose. I hold my breath, listening, my fingers curling around the dagger I still keep stashed under my pillow. I know better than to ignore instincts like these.The room is silent. There’s no wind rattling the windows, no rustling of leaves outside, not even the distant howls of patrolling wolves. Just an absolute, unnatural stillness. And then, the
NixieI find Hilda sitting on the porch of her cabin, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The bruises from her fight with Damon are already fading, but the exhaustion lingers in the set of her shoulders. Even so, she looks up as I approach, her lips curving into a welcoming smile."Daily visits now, you’re checking up on me," she accuses before I can even speak. I snort, stepping onto the porch. "I like to think of it as an unannounced wellness inspection. Making sure my Luna stays out of trouble."Hilda chuckles, scooting over to make room for me. "I’m fine, just bored out of my skull. Arlo’s being very overbearing and forcing me to rest."I sit beside her, stretching my legs out. "You almost died. Humor him." She shrugs nonchalantly, "I’ve almost died plenty of times before. It’s all part of being a warrior.”"So is knowing when to take it easy," I counter. Hilda looks at me shrewdly, “So you’d be fine staying in bed for a week after one little fight?” I roll my eyes, “I’m
HildaTara’s cottage is on the outskirts of the pack lands, a modest, weathered place half-swallowed by the creeping forest. My boots crunch over the frost-stiffened ground as I approach, the sense of unease that’s been gnawing at me sharpening with every step.I knock, then push the door open when I hear a quiet, “Come in.” Tara is sitting at her kitchen table, her hands curled around a steaming mug that smells of peppermint and ginger. She must have a headache.She looks up as I enter, her grey eyes guttering with something. Surprise? Apprehension? It’s gone too fast to tell. I close the door behind me, grateful to be out of the cold. “Tara, how are you?”“Hilda,” she replies, her voice careful, controlled, “This is an unexpected surprise. You look well.” I smile, unable to return the compliment.I take a seat across from her, studying her. She looks thinner than I remember, her sharp features more pronounced, eyes blazing far too brightly, and there’s a tightness around her mouth t
HildaI’m not entirely surprised when Cerelia arrives. She knocks once before opening the door and walking in, her sharp blue eyes scanning me where I sit curled up in an armchair by the fire, nursing a cup of tea.“You’re really not hurt?” she asks, her relief evident. “I’m fine,” I say carefully, not sure how she feels about me murdering her brother.She looks tired. Dark smudges linger beneath her eyes, and her posture is stiff, like she’s holding something back. I set my mug down and nod toward the chair across from me. “Please, sit.”She does, but she doesn’t relax. Instead, she studies me like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “How are you?” she finally asks. I huff out a laugh, “I’ve been better. How about you?”She pauses before responding, “I don’t know what to say to you.” I raise a brow, “That’s a first. How about you just tell me what you’re really feeling?”“I keep running through different possibilities in my head. Should I apologize? Should I thank you? Should I just pret