CereliaI don’t know how Hilda makes it through the next few days without showing any outward signs of strain. She’s also the one who comes up with the plan for our trap."He won't come unless he believes we're vulnerable," she tells King Arlo. "And he won't believe we're vulnerable unless we give him a reason to." King Arlo’s jaw clenches, "You expect me to let you—""Let me?" Hilda cuts in, her voice as sharp as steel. "This is not a request, Arlo. Maelor knows we'd never turn our backs on you, that we’d never leave. So we make him believe that’s exactly what we’ve done, in order to save you all."I nod my agreement, stepping closer to Soren. "We leave at dawn, making it clear we’re severing all ties. Maelor will suspect it’s a trap, until I cast the message to let him know where we’ll be and that we’re offering ourselves in exchange for safety for everyone else.”“’What makes you think he’ll fall for that? He knows I won’t let you go,” King Arlo asks Hilda plaintively. “Tara’s prop
HildaThe weight of Veilbreaker on my finger is unbearable now, the bone ring keeps pulsing continuously as it nullifies the magic surrounding us, leeching the essence from my body in order to do what it was made for.I can barely keep standing. Every breath is an effort, every heartbeat a struggle. But I do not waver. I refuse to. Beside me, Cerelia is still, but I can feel her tension, the sharpness of her resolve. I hope she knows how proud I am of her and how grateful I am for her friendship.I barely listen to Maelor’s smug musings. I just need to keep him talking long enough for the others to arrive. Arlo knew the moment I sensed Maelor and I know they’ll be running flat-out to reach us.This time the warriors had to be far enough away so they wouldn’t be detected if searched for. Maelor is over-confident, but not entirely stupid, he’d send a scout or 2 ahead to die in his stead if there’s a trap.He’s droning on about how he has us trapped and only my avid anticipation of the e
ArloI watch as Cerelia and Hilda work together to take Maelor down. I can feel my beloved’s agony and pride surges in me at her incredible strength. She was right and I should never have doubted her. She is strong enough to do this.Maelor’s horrified expression when he realizes who will be responsible for his death tastes like ambrosia. The moment is sheer perfection until I feel the mating bond I share with Hilda disappear.One moment it’s there, a golden light suffusing my soul, the next there’s only darkness. “Hilda!” I hear Cerelia scream and I’m at my mate’s side in 2 bounds. Her eyes are closed and her body’s ice cold. She seems to have lost half her bodyweight in a single night. Her always slight frame is skeletal and her skin is pale as death.“Fix her!” I demand from Cerelia, losing all interest in the battle surrounding us. Most of the mages have fallen and my warriors are more than capable of dealing with them now that they have no way to defend themselves. Now that Hilda
Cerelia“Soren!” His name tears from my throat like a roll of razor wire, cutting me to ribbons. Why did he jump? My magic would have been faster than Arista once he warned me of her approach.If only I’d gone to find someone who could teach me about the healing side of my magic I’d be worth something right now. Hilda saved us, there wasn’t even any need for my defensive magic. Now she’s hovering on the other side of the veil and Soren’s life force is seeping into the earth and there’s nothing I can do for either of them.“Stop,” Soren whispers, his eyes fixed on my face. I’m pushing as much of my own vitality into his body as I can, but it’s not enough. The sword pierced his lungs and without a way to heal the internal damage, I’m only delaying the inevitable.“No. You won’t leave me Soren, not now.” I can feel my power weakening with each beat of my heart, but I refuse to give up. Surely my magic has to be good for more than undoing spells? I know I have some healing ability, even i
Arlo“King Arlo, you have to get some rest,” Percy tells me when he stops by the cabin and finds me still holding Hilda.“I’ll rest when my mate’s back. She’s cold and alone, I need her to know that I’m here,” I tell him shortly, tightening my arms around her body, as if I’m afraid she’ll be snatched from me.Who can blame me when for all intents and purposes that’s already happened? I’ve tried to find even a glimmer of our link, but it’s gone.Hilda is completely still, something she almost never was in life, unless we were basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking, or she was sleeping. It’s unsettling feeling no heartbeat and seeing no air entering her lungs. Her body temperature has increased, but it only lasts for as long as I’m holding her. The moment she’s on her own, it drops again.Cerelia has been by twice to assure me that there’s still no decomposition taking place and rigor mortis hasn’t set in, but I can’t find Hilda and I’ve never felt more lonely in my life.“I underst
SorenI’m still weaker than a newborn after 2 weeks. Barely able to get out of bed by myself. Cerelia managed to patch me up, but there’s no telling whether I’ll ever fully recover. The damage to my lung was quite extensive and it’s healed with scar tissue. In all likelihood I’ll lose some lung function and never be the warrior I once was.In the bigger scheme of things, it’s not even a sacrifice. I get to live. Most importantly, I get to share that life with Cerelia. My soulmate. The woman who was willing to offer her life to save mine. The last time that happened, it didn’t turn out so well.Heaviness settles on my chest when I think about Hilda. Twice now she’s selflessly decided to make the ultimate sacrifice to save the people she loves.She’s still dead for all intents and purposes, although according to Tara and Cerelia the fetus she carries is still growing. It’s impossible to understand where it’s taking nutrients from.Cerelia helped me to hobble over to King Arlo’s cabin an
HildaIt takes me a long time to force my eyes to open. My body feels foreign and I’m freezing. I try to roll over so I can snuggle into Arlo’s always warm arms, but I seem to be stuck in position like a beached whale.Pain rips through my abdomen as though a giant, serrated knife is cutting me open and Arlo’s suddenly by my side, staring down at me in wonder. “You’re awake,” he breathes, looking stunned.The pain abated for a second, but now it’s back with a vengeance and I screech helplessly. Arlo grabs my hand, peppering my face with kisses. “Hilda, you’ve been in a coma for nearly 9 months. You’re in labor, our baby’s being born.”“I’m going to help you through this, just try to breathe. I know it must be confusing. I was so worried you’d never come back to me.” I’m giving birth? Panic grips my heart. Tara said I wouldn’t be able to do that.Screw Tara, she won’t dictate my future. Veilbreaker didn’t kill me and Arlo’s been waiting for me. I never gave up before and I’m not starti
HildaI stare at Not Arlo and he looks so much like my soulmate that it shreds my heart. I want this to be real. The bit where I’m awake and I’ve just given birth to our son. Not the part where Arlo’s turned into an asshole.“You’re not him,” I say sadly, handing the baby back to him. “And this isn’t my child.” Chilling laughter fills my head.“Maelor was right, you would have been the perfect host. Zesty, smart and strong. You even have good taste in men. I would have enjoyed fucking this bucking bronco, but you couldn’t let me have that, could you?”I know immediately that the woman wrapping herself around Not Arlo is Morgana. He’s not my Arlo, I don’t give a damn what she does with this soulless carbon copy.Her hair is a cascade of dark curls, coiled like living tendrils around her shoulders, framing her impossibly lovely face. High cheekbones cast sharp hollows in the flickering light, her full lips curled in a knowing smirk as she eyes me. Her eyes, deep green, laced with gold,
AshThe moment Cerelia finishes weaving the last of the spell, I feel the tension ease from the air.The humans stand frozen, still blank-faced and motionless, but something subtle has shifted in the atmosphere around them. Like a storm passing just overhead without breaking.Hilda rises from where she’s crouched by a line of confiscated weapons, brushing her hands clean against her pants. She strides toward Tara and me, her expression grim but steady.“It’s your call,” she says, her voice pitched low enough that only we can hear. “You have to decide whether Redgrave goes back to the city or if we deal with her here.”Tara turns to me immediately, her blue eyes fierce and sure. “Ash, it’s only fair that you get to choose,” she says. “I’ll stand by whatever you decide. You’re the one who suffered the most because of her.”For a moment, the world feels very small. Like the two of us are the only ones in existence. And the truth has been laid bare between us.And gods, the relief that po
CereliaI hear them long before I see them. The scuff of heavy boots against the forest floor. The low murmur of voices trying to stay quiet but too weighted with nerves and suspicion to succeed. Labored breathing and faint curses.Clearly the humans haven’t taken a moment to consider how sharp a wolf’s hearing is. Never thought their whispered orders and rattling weapons would be beacons in a forest whose sounds we know like they’re our own breaths.I tighten my focus, steadying the pulse of the spell waiting in my hands. It’s nearly time and I’m so ready for this to be over.All around me, the warriors stay perfectly still, crouched low among the shrubs and trees. No one moves a single muscle. They breathe so quietly that even I can’t hear them. It’s like the entire forest has conspired to hide us, holding its’ breath for what’s about to happen.They’re very close know. Hearing the rattle of Tara’s chains makes my jaw clench. Every soft clink is a reminder of why we’re doing this. W
CereliaI sit cross-legged within the circle of runes, hidden beneath a dense screen of shrubs and low-hanging branches. Around me, warriors melt into the landscape, nearly invisible even to my trained eyes. The humans will never spot us unless we want them to.At least, that’s the hope. They may have gadgets we’re not familiar with. I have to make sure my magic is faster than anything they have to offer.I roll the smooth amber stone between my palms, centering myself. The amplification spell thrums around me, delicate but vast, like a spider web stretched to its limit. It’s ready. I’m ready. Now we just have to wait.Hilda crouches beside me, watching the distant path through the trees where our enemies will appear. Her face is set in that calm, slightly amused expression she wears when she’s holding a dozen different plans in her head at once.Scarlett can be rightfully proud to have this fierce woman as her mother, I think to myself.Hilda’s head cocks to the side before she le
TaraThe air is crackling with tension.It rolls through the group like a thundercloud, thick and stifling, settling under everyone’s skin. Soldiers twitch at every noise. Eyes dart around frantically. Hands tighten on weapons.Malcolm and Redgrave walk at the front of the pack, a careful distance apart, pretending civility. But anyone with half a brain can see the truth. They’re waiting for an excuse to kill each other and their men know it.Ash walks slightly behind them, his expression schooled into something unreadable. I keep my head bowed, collar dragging at my neck, wrists still shackled tightly behind my back. The leads from my collar are held by Redgrave’s men. They seem jumpy too, hands flexing constantly around the chains and pulling the collar tight against my throat.It’s a miracle no one’s opened fire yet. I glance at Ash through lowered lashes. In spite of his impressive acting abilities, I notice the worry lines around his mouth. The way his spine is as straight as an
HildaScarlett is halfway through her second helping of blueberry pancakes and telling me a story about how Percy is definitely scared of bumblebees.“He screamed, Mama!” she says, eyes wide, hands flailing dramatically. “And he’s this big”—she stretches her arms as far as they’ll go—“and a little tiny bee made him run away! Like this!” She zooms her hand through the air, knocking over her cup of milk in the process.I catch it before it falls, mopping the few drops that splashed over the side. “Maybe Percy just didn’t want to get stung,” I say, trying to hide my smile.“He’s a werewolf, Mama. Bees don’t sting for no reason. He’s supposed to be brave. I’m brave and I’m only four.” She holds up four sticky fingers proudly.I lift a brow. “You’re brave, huh? What about the time you made daddy check under your bed for monsters three nights in a row?”Scarlett’s eyes narrow, like I’m betraying her. “That’s different. Monsters are sneaky. Bees are just bees,” she states with irrefutable lo
TaraI hate that my body reacts. Hate that I know what Ash is doing. Hate the way my thighs clenched, my breath hitched, and heat rolled through me like I was the one being touched.I hate that I didn’t want it, and I still responded. That I couldn’t stop the tears or the sick twist of shame in my stomach afterwards. Because it left me aching for him and wishing for more.What is wrong with me?By the time the first trace of morning light touches the sky, I’ve scrubbed my skin raw and changed into fresh clothes. I’m ready before they come for me, heart hammering, mind racing. I tell myself it’s because of the mission. Because of what’s at stake. But really, it’s because I can’t wait to get Ash away from her.When the door creaks open, it’s not a guard who enters. It’s them. Hand in hand. Ash walks in slightly ahead of her, dressed in black again, his face a perfect mask of disdain. Redgrave follows, her steps slow and deliberate, like a queen descending into the dungeon. She carries a
AshShe lights candles before she joins me in bed. Not because she needs the light. It’s for the atmosphere. For the drama. The way the flickering glow dances across her skin, softening edges and disguising shadows.Everything Isadora Redgrave does is calculated.She walks toward me slowly, her silk robe brushing the tops of her thighs, the edges parting just enough to promise what’s beneath. Her eyes track me like a cat watching a mouse. Lazy, confident, assured of her eventual reward.I offer a smile I’ve worn so many times now it practically feels real.She climbs into bed beside me, pressing close, sliding one silky leg over mine. Her fingers skim my chest, but I barely register the sensation. My body reacts out of habit and obligation. My mind is a thousand miles away.Tara. Is she sleeping? Crying? Wondering why I said what I said earlier today? Does she believe it was real. That I meant it?Gods, I hope not. No. She’s too smart to believe that. She knows we have a job to do.I
TaraI haven’t felt anything from Ash in two nights. No phantom touches. No bursts of pleasure that aren’t mine. No echoing orgasms that leave me shaking and ashamed and aching in ways I can’t even name.I should be grateful, but it makes me uneasy. It’s not like Redgrave to keep her hands to herself. If she’s not pawing at him, it means something’s wrong. Maybe she’s punishing him. Maybe he said the wrong thing, or showed too much concern for me, or failed to play the role she expects.I pace my room like a caged animal, ears trained on every creak of the hallway. I’ve barely touched the tray of food they brought me. My stomach’s in knots.Maisey hasn’t been back since yesterday morning, and I don’t know if that’s because she’s been reassigned, or because someone figured out she was watching out for me.The door opens without warning and a tall, broad-shouldered guard steps inside. “You’re wanted,” he says. No ‘please.’ No ‘if you don’t mind.’ Just flat orders and cold eyes.I school
MalcolmThe knock at the compound door is too polite and I know who it is before I open it.Redgrave doesn’t wait to be invited in. She steps over the threshold like she owns the place. In her head, she probably does.Her coat is cream, long, and tailored to her measurements. Her boots click against the concrete like a war drum. Her guards don’t follow. Clearly she doesn’t think she needs protection from me. Stupid bitch.“Redgrave,” I say, voice smooth and friendly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She doesn’t answer. Just walks into my command room like she’s been here a thousand times before. She stops in front of the war table. My maps. My layouts. My plans.And then, with all the casual disdain of royalty, she sits in my chair. “You’ve been busy,” she says, gesturing at the tactical layout.“I’ve been preparing,” I agree. “That’s wonderful to hear, because I’ll be joining you for the attack,” she informs me casually.I blink, then laugh. Not the smartest move, in retrospect. “You