Hilda Days of endless bliss follow.My healing is speeding up and I’m well enough to go out and show everyone that I’m really alive and well. There’s no war threatening and Arlo delegates a lot of his duties to Percy, so he can spend more time with me. My stamina is quickly returning to what it was and I don’t waste one precious moment of alone time with my mate.We’ve fallen into a routine. Mornings are spent in bed, making love slowly before having brunch. Arlo goes to training and to take care of business until late afternoon. Generally we’re panting for each other by that time and nights are spent in frantic fuck fests that leave me exhausted and deliriously happy.I’m under strict orders to do no exercise other than walking until I’m back to my normal weight, so I alternate who I drag away from their everyday lives to take forced walks with me between Cerelia, Percy, Kestrel and Nixie. I’ve decided frantic sex with Arlo is integral to my overall well-being and thus does not coun
SorenThe boy shifts on his feet, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s young, maybe fifteen, but the worry in his eyes makes him seem older.“What do you mean Damon is ‘sniffing around’?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the unease coiling in my gut.“He’s been talking to some of our warriors,” the boy says, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Telling them you’re weak. That you left us. That we need a strong leader to protect us.” His expression darkens. “My dad told him to get lost, but… not everyone feels the same.”Cerelia curses under her breath, her hand gripping my forearm in support. “I’m so sorry, Soren. I can’t believe my own brother is doing this, after the peace deal you reached. Maybe I can talk to him and make him see sense.”“This isn’t your fault,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Damon’s always been looking for an opportunity like this. He would have made his move eventually.”The words sound strong, but inside, doubt gnaws at me.Damon i
ArloPart of me is disappointed that Hilda thought of a non-violent approach to Soren’s Damon problem. I would love an excuse to put him down.Everything about Damon makes my skin crawl. It always has. Werewolves have quick tempers and we tend to choose violence more often than is necessary, but most of us don’t enjoy killing.A good fight is great. It clears the air, allows us to practice our skills and sends a strong message to both our packs and any potential enemies. Taking a life is different. It’s something heavy you have to carry with you.To wolves family is everything and knowing you’ve taken someone’s loved one away from them is a heavy burden to carry. To most of us. That part of Damon’s always been missing though.Lots of important bits of his psyche seems to be lost or broken. His strange obsession with his sister. His blood-lust. His sick plans for Hilda. I’m still not sure allowing him to live is the right thing to do.If his people hadn’t decided to act without his say
CereliaThe journey back to Soren’s pack lands is a quiet one at first. The rhythmic pounding of paws against the dirt, the rustling of leaves in the wind, the occasional crack of a branch underfoot, it all fills the silence we’re too lost in thought to break.Soren moves beside me, his pace steady but slower than it once was. He’s healing, but he’s not healed. I know the weight of returning to a pack who may no longer view him as an ideal leader is heavy on his shoulders.Damon’s betrayal, because that’s what it is, no matter how much I would like to deny it, lingers between us.Soren won’t voice his anger, not in front of me, for fear of burning me with the heat of his fury. But I can see it in the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands occasionally clench into fists before he forces them to relax.I decide to be the one to break the silence. “You don’t have to hold back because of me, you know.” He glances at me, brow furrowing. “I’m not.”I scoff lightly. “Soren.” My voice is fla
CereliaBefore Soren can say anything more, a slow, mocking clap echoes through the space. I tense before I even turn to look.Damon stands at the edge of the gathered pack, his expression one of pure amusement. “Well, well,” he drawls, a smirk playing at his lips. “Quite the speech, brother. It’s almost convincing.”Soren doesn’t move, doesn’t react beyond narrowing his eyes. The air around us seems to grow colder.Damon steps forward, hands spread wide as if in greeting. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I thought you’d be too weak to even stand.” His gaze flicks toward me, his smirk deepening. “And yet, here you are. How… inspiring.”My stomach twists, but I don’t let it show. This is what he does. He slithers in with words, chipping away at confidence until doubt is all that’s left. But Soren isn’t about to allow him to dictate the tone of this gathering.He stands tall, his voice calm and unwavering. “Say what you came to say, Damon. Then get out.” Damon chuckles, shaking his head
HildaThe air is crisp and golden with the late afternoon sun, the scent of pine and blooming wildflowers wrapping around us as Arlo leads me through the trees. His fingers are laced with mine, warm and solid, his grip effortlessly guiding me along the mossy path.“I hope you’re not stealing me away for some nefarious reason,” I tease, nudging his side. “You’ve been suspiciously charming today.”Arlo smirks, the wicked glint in his eyes making my stomach flip. “Suspiciously? Love, I’m always charming. It’s one of the many, many reasons that you find me so utterly irresistible.”I hum in consideration. “Mmm, if you say so. What are some of the others?” Arlo leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “You seem to get a kick out of seeing me naked and apparently my kisses make you lose your mind. That’s a direct quote by the way.”He has me there. I arch a brow, but before I can pry further, he tugs me forward and pulls me into a clearing.My breath catches. A blanket is spread over the soft
HildaThe next morning, I wake up feeling buoyant, as if the sheer joy coursing through me has made me weightless. If I’m not careful I may become airborne and float away on the warm, spring breeze.It seems Arlo is very serious about not wasting any time. He’s gone when I wake up, but by midday, I’m standing before a mirror, my fingers trembling as I run them over the fabric of my wedding dress.It’s perfect. The gown is ethereal. Soft, flowing layers of ivory and pale gold silk hug my body. The sheer sleeves are embroidered with delicate floral designs, like ivy trailing along my skin. As I turn slightly, the delicate train shifts behind me, pooling onto the floor like spun silk.It feels like something out of a dream. A flawless reflection of everything I feel inside. Love, hope and a happiness so fierce it leaves me breathless.My friends choose that moment to burst into our cabin without knocking.“You look like a goddess,” Nixie declares, her hands flying to her mouth. Kestrel n
DamonThe fire crackles, snapping like sharp teeth as I swirl the whiskey in my glass. The bottle sits beside me, mostly empty, and I’m debating whether to get up and grab another. I probably should. One isn’t enough to take the edge off. Not tonight.Around me, my warriors sit in a loose circle, the orange glow of the flames throwing flickering shadows over their faces. The mood is sour, the tension thick. No one’s saying what we’re all thinking.We weren’t invited. King Arlo and Hilda’s wedding is happening in two days, and every damn pack has been welcomed, except mine. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t an oversight. It was a message.I take another slow sip, letting the burn slide down my throat before I lean back against the log I’ve claimed as my seat. “So, we’re the only ones left out of the grand celebration,” I say at last, my voice dripping with sour amusement. “Anyone surprised?”No one answers. A few exchange glances, but they know better than to say the wrong thing. Cowards.
HildaCerelia and Soren sit across from us, their expressions grim. I hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood of their visit, but with humans encroaching on our borders, there was no delaying this conversation.They have to know. All the Alphas will need to be told once we know what these men want."This isn’t the first time a human has wandered close to pack lands," Cerelia says slowly. "But you’re saying this feels different?""It is different," Arlo confirms, stopping mid-stride. "They aren’t just stumbling into the vicinity. They’re moving in a careful pattern, testing our defences and borders. And the only way they’d get across the border is if someone leads them.""That’s what worries me most," I admit. "A werewolf had to have brought them close enough to get past the confusion spells." Soren frowns, “Do you have any idea who?”Before I can answer, there’s a rush of movement outside, and the door swings open to reveal Percy, his breath slightly uneven from running."Arlo," he says, stra
ArloThe fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls of our room. The warmth should be comforting, but it does nothing to ease the weight pressing down on my chest.Hilda sits on the bed, cross-legged, brushing out her hair, the glossy strands catching the firelight. She looks up at me, knowing something’s wrong before I even speak.“Alright,” she says, setting the brush aside. “What’s wrong?” I exhale slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. “Scouts have reported increased human activity near our borders.”Hilda’s expression sharpens, her body going still. “Hunters?” I shake my head. “No. This feels different. It’s too…organized and there are too many of them. Not like travelers getting lost or the occasional fool wandering too close. They move like men with purpose. And they’re getting closer.”Her lips press into a thin line. “But they haven’t crossed into our lands?” I shake my head, “Not yet.” She frowns, pulling her legs up beneath her. “Then the
HildaThe moment I see Cerelia shift, I don’t hesitate. I rush forward, wrapping my arms around her before she can say a word. She laughs into my shoulder, squeezing me just as tightly, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the familiarity of her presence.“I missed you,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to look at her face. She looks the same, stunningly beautiful, smart and amazing, but there’s a softness in her eyes when she meets my gaze.“I missed you too,” she says. “I swear, every time I turn around, another letter from you is demanding I come visit.”I scoff. “Because you don’t take the hint the first time. If I didn’t harass you, you’d never make your way here and I’d be left lonely and bereft. I can’t come and see you at the moment, it’s too difficult to travel so far with Scarlett and the warriors would all insist on coming along.”A low chuckle reminds me that we aren’t alone. Soren stands behind her, watching us with amusement. “Are you two done, or should I come bac
TaraThe knock at my door is soft but certain. I know who it is before I even get up, because there’s only one person who visits without hesitation, without waiting for an invitation. Scarlett.I open the door, and there she is, standing on my porch with her hands on her hips like she owns the place. In a way, she does. The pack would move mountains for her, and she knows it.She’s not bratty in a ‘I’m a princess’ kind of way, acting like she’s better than anyone else. She’s just Scarlett, unapologetically curious, unnervingly perceptive for someone who’s only been 2 for a couple of months, and my favorite visitor by far.“Hi, Tara!” she chirps, strolling past me before I can say anything, “I came to see you. Mommy says she thinks you’re lonely, but I told her that’s silly, because I’m your friend and I come to see you all the time.”“That’s very kind of you,” I say dryly, closing the door behind her. “You’re getting taller.” She grins, “I know! Daddy says I’m growing too fast and Mom
CereliaThe letter arrives in the late afternoon, the familiar scrawl on the envelope immediately making my heart ache. I open it carefully, running my fingers over the parchment before I begin to read.My dearest Cerelia,I miss you.It feels ridiculous to start with that when there’s so much to tell you, but it’s the truth. I miss you fiercely, and it’s been far too long since we last saw each other. Which is why you and Soren need to visit soon. I mean it. No excuses. Pack up your bags, drag that stubborn mate of yours along, and come stay for a while. Please.Now that my demand is out of the way, let me fill you in on everything happening here.First things first, I’m pregnant. I know, it’s a miracle, given how difficult it is for werewolves to conceive, but Arlo is very pleased with himself. I’m about 3 months along. We didn’t want to say anything until the end of the first trimester and Scarlett was the first one we told. She promptly informed us that it’s a boy.Speaking of our
NixieI take a deep breath before knocking on the heavy wooden door. My hand lingers in the air for a second longer than necessary. It’s not that I’m nervous, exactly. It’s just that this is big. Huge, actually. And saying it out loud makes it real in a way I haven’t quite wrapped my head around yet.The door swings open before I can knock again, revealing Hilda, looking as radiant as ever. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, catching the morning light, and she’s wearing a soft cream dress that drapes over her form in a way that should have been my first clue.“Nixie!” she says warmly, pulling me into a quick hug before stepping back and giving me a once-over. “You look happy, but you were lurking on my doorstep, what’s going on?”“I am,” I admit with a grin, stepping inside. “And you’re right, I do have news.”“Tell me everything,” she says, leading me into the sitting room. She settles onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, tucking her legs up beneath her.I sit beside her, run
HildaThe sun is warm against my skin, the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers thick in the air as we sit beneath the sprawling oak tree next to the creek. A checkered blanket is spread beneath us, weighed down with a picnic basket, filled with an assortment of sandwiches, and a sticky-fingered toddler who’s currently smearing honey across her chubby cheeks.Scarlett giggles as she waves her piece of bread in the air, utterly unconcerned with the mess she’s making. Of course, she’s not the one who’ll be cleaning it up, so why worry? “Mama, the bees are gonna love me,” she declares proudly, looking at her honey-covered hands.Arlo chuckles, reaching over to wipe her hands with a damp cloth before she can rub it all over her dress. “They already do my sweet princess, just like everybody else.” She beams up at him, “You too daddy?”Arlo picks her up and swings her in a wide circle, to her shrieking delight. “Especially me,” he assures her. The little minx already knows she has her daddy
AshThe morning light casts a warm golden glow over the tangle of limbs sprawled across my bed. The sheets are a mess, bodies lazily draped over each other, the scent of perfume and sex lingering in the air.The brunette to my right stirs, nuzzling into my shoulder with a satisfied sigh. The redhead to my left mutters something unintelligible in her sleep and shifts, her fingers skimming over my chest.Yes, life as a human has its compensations. It didn’t take me very long to find that out and indulge prodigiously in every single one of them.I eventually extract myself from the tangle, stepping over discarded clothing as I make my way to the bathroom. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, rubbing a hand over my jaw. Not a single flaw, I’m absolutely fucking gorgeous.I can’t detect any changes in my features. Still not aging it seems. Perhaps 2 years isn’t long enough to make such a determination, but I suspect I’m still immortal, even without my powers.I smirk, “Guess that makes
AshI tilt my head, inspecting my reflection in the mirror with a critical eye. Still devastatingly handsome. Still possessing a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Still absolutely irresistible to anyone with functioning eyesight and a pulse.I smirk. Honestly, the world should thank its lucky stars it got me.I run a hand through my dark hair, the thick waves tousled just enough to look effortless but not unkempt.I may have lost my power, but the body I was blessed with nearly makes up for it. I occasionally miss others cowering in fear at my approach and my name being whispered in terror, but in truth, I far prefer being idolized and adored.Instead of making them shriek in fear, I have them screaming my name in passion. Instead of relying on demonic power to get what I want, I have to use charm. Fortunately, I have that in abundance.“Ash, you’re up in five.” I turn away from the mirror, flashing my most rakish grin at the harried stagehand peeking into my dressing room. “Darling,