(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
(Soren)The night is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth as I make my way through the forest, my steps muffled by the dense undergrowth.The guilt over my betrayal of Hilda hasn’t stopped gnawing at me since I so thoroughly rejected her in front of King Arlo. Something about him just doesn’t sit right with me and it’s not just because he claimed Hilda.Whispers and rumors about the disappearance of women who are close to him have been swirling for some time. I never paid much attention until he snared Hilda. It took some investigating, but I’ve finally managed to uncover some real information. While I wait on Hilda’s response to my message, I may as well follow up on the clues I’ve uncovered.All of King Arlo’s previous mates have vanished without a trace, their names seemingly fading into obscurity as if they’d never existed. Even people who interacted with them on a daily basis seems to barely remember them. The fact that nobody’s raised a fuss about it is beyond strange.I
(Hilda) I’m pacing in the garden when my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. I turn to see Rolf, one of Arlo’s scouts, making his way toward me. His usually confident stride seems hesitant and his eyes are darting around nervously.“Hilda,” Rolf says, his voice lacking its’ usual exuberance. “I have a message for you.” The iron weight of dread settles in my gut. “From whom?” I ask.Rolf glances around again before leaning in closer. “It’s from Alpha Soren. He wants to meet you. Says it’s important.” That was the last thing I expected to hear. The timing seems suspicious and the urgency in Rolf’s demeanor only heightened my reservations.“Did he happen to mention where he wants to meet?” I enquire warily. “The old oak near the river,” Rolf replies, “He said you’d know the place.” I nod, my mind racing. The old oak is a place of memories, not something anyone else would know.“Thank you, Rolf, I appreciate you bringing me this message. I know you’re risking
(Hilda)Soren's words echoed in my mind as I hurried back to the pack house, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger. His warning reverberated within me, the implications too horrifying to fully grasp. As I approached the grand building, the reality of my situation began to sink in, and panic clawed at my chest.I needed answers, and I needed them now. My thoughts raced as I made my way through the corridors, each step a battle against the rising tide of dread. I had to confront Arlo, to see if there was any truth to Soren’s allegations. If he was involved in something as dark and twisted as Soren claimed, then I needed to know.As I neared Arlo’s study, I heard voices. His voice and another, unfamiliar but dripping with the same sinister undertones. I stopped, pressing myself against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.“She’s proving to be quite the challenge,” Arlo was saying, his tone devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for me. “But it’s only a matter of tim
(Hilda)As I walked back to the pack house, the weight of the ancient book in my hands, I felt a gnawing uncertainty. Soren’s words echoed in my mind, yet a part of me resisted believing them. Could Arlo really be as monstrous as he seemed? Or was Soren's story driven by his own agenda? The duality of the situation left me in turmoil.Arriving back, I was greeted by one of Arlo’s sentinels. “Alpha King Arlo has requested your presence in the garden,” he said, his voice betraying no emotion. I nodded, hiding my apprehension.The garden was breathtaking, a serene haven filled with fragrant blossoms and soft, ambient lighting. Arlo stood at the center, a table set for two beside a small, sparkling fountain. As I approached, his face lit up with a warm smile."Hilda," he said, extending his hand. "I’ve planned something special for us tonight."The gesture was romantic, almost too perfect. My heart ached with confusion. Could someone capable of such evil also show such tenderness? I force
AshI wake up cursing, tangled in my sheets like some kind of deranged marionette. The brat did it. She actually did it. Pulled me right into whatever bizarre little web of magic she has, and now, no matter how much I’d like to ignore it, I can feel the pull.Fuck.I rub a hand over my face, groaning. There has to be a way to sever this ridiculous connection. I don’t do attachments. I don’t do obligations.The tiny, tyrannical nightmare in pigtails just yanked me straight out of my perfectly pleasant existence and into something I do not want to be a part of. First of all, werewolves can probably kill me now.Secondly, they don’t have clubs and bars and theatres in the sticks. They have testosterone and family values. I think I’m allergic to the latter.“No, no, no.” I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that might undo whatever ridiculous connection just dragged me into this mess. Of course it doesn’t. Because my luck is absolute shit when it comes to that kid.Groaning, I grab the nearest b
ScarlettDarkness stretches in every direction. Not the scary kind, not the kind that makes my heart race and my hands clutch at the blankets, but the nice, quiet, endless kind.Like a sky without stars, but you know they’re just out of sight. Like the moment before a secret is whispered and you’re all excited.I know I’m dreaming. I always know when I’m dreaming, but this is one of the dreams that isn’t just a dream.I need to find Ash. I know it’s important that he has to come and help us fight the bad man who has daddy. I’m not sure why yet, but that doesn’t matter.Usually it’s easy to just see what he’s doing, but tonight I have to talk to him and I think that’s why it’s more difficult. Mommy says I can talk the hind leg off a donkey, so it shouldn’t be too hard.“Ash,” I call his name, letting it ripple through the nothingness. I can feel the shape of it as I say it. Short and sharp, like the snap of twigs beneath my feet when I walk barefoot next to the creek.There’s no answer
PercyThe city hums with life, humans hurrying through the streets, wrapped in their own worries, never once considering that wolves stalk among them. Which makes my job so much easier. They also have no reason to fear us, since we’ve never actually hunted humans.Nixie moves beside me, her steps careful, gaze sharp as she studies every car that passes, every figure that lingers too long.She’s more comfortable in the wild, where the air is fresh and the only noise comes from insects, animals and us. Here, the air is thick with gasoline and rot. The smell of so many people pressed together makes tracking damn near impossible.But impossible isn’t in my vocabulary. I have no idea how some of us manage to live in the city. The constant assault on my senses is disorienting.The bastards didn’t even try to cover their tracks this time. The tire marks leading into the city were fresh, and the scent of Arlo’s scent clings to Malcolm’s men like oil on water.We followed the trail for miles
ArloAgony pulls me from the darkness. Pain coils through my body, sharp and relentless, as if my veins are lined with barbed wire. My muscles are sluggish, refusing to obey as I try to move.The drug is still in my system, keeping me weak, dulled and vulnerable. I don’t need to see to know where I am.Steel bars surround me, thick and reinforced. The scent of rust and blood is heavy in the air. I know exactly where I am. Hell. And the devil is here, waiting for me to open my eyes.Footsteps echo off the concrete floor and a shadow passes outside the cage, circling me like a vulture waiting to pick over the carcass of something already dying.“Not who I wanted,” Malcolm muses, his voice smooth and casual. The bastard doesn’t even really sound disappointed, though I can see it in the way his lip curls just slightly, the faintest hint of irritation beneath the smirk, “But I suppose you’ll do for now.”“Next time I’ll do the shooting myself and make sure I get my prize. You won’t be aro
Hilda Arlo is gone. The moment I lost sight of him, something inside me cracked, splintering like glass under too much pressure. But I can’t let it break me.He’s still out there and I will keep my broken pieces together until he’s home. The bond between us is faint but unyielding, a whisper in the back of my mind that tells me he’s alive. Hurting and enraged, but alive.My stomach churns as I feel the echoes of his suffering, the distant pulse of his agony. The pain is foreign yet intimate, his torment bleeding into me through the mate bond. I swallow it down, forcing my expression into something unshakable. The pack needs their Luna to bring back their Alpha.I gather them in the war room, standing at the head of the long wooden table. Not having Arlo by my side feels so foreign and wrong.The tension is thick and I force back my pain so I can be the leader they deserve right now. They’re all here, ready and eager to help. Soren, Cerelia, Percy, Nixie, all of our warriors. All wa
Arlo I wake up to the jolt of a moving vehicle. My body feels heavy, my limbs leaden and my mind is sluggish, but it fights to claws its’ way to awareness.The last thing I remember is the sting of the dart, the explosion of smoke, Hilda’s scream in my mind cutting through the chaos before the world faded.Thank the heavens I took the tranquilizer meant for her. She’s safe. I’m the only one trapped in this moving vehicle and that’s enough to bring me peace for a few moment.The thought that she’s unharmed and with our pack keeps me breathing right now. Even as I lie here, pinned by the weight of whatever the bastards drugged me with, my mind screams to get back to them. To Hilda and both our cubs.She won’t let the fact that she’s pregnant hold her back. She’s not going to stay where it’s safe. I know her too well. She’s going to come for me and kill everyone who dares to stand between me and her.She won’t send a rescue party, she’ll lead it herself, because we protect each other. I
HildaMy heart beats in rhythm with my steps, steady and focused as we stalk through the undergrowth.Arlo is by my side and our warriors move in formation behind us, their wolf forms slinking through the trees like shadows.I strain my ears, my nose working to pick up any trace of human scent, but there’s nothing. All I smell is damp earth and the familiar scent of my own people. The air seems even cleaner and crisper than usual. How the hell are they doing this?Cerelia stays at the back of the pack, waiting for her opportunity to help us. I’m comforted knowing she’s here and even more so that Soren will make sure she runs if anything goes wrong.She’s ready to step forward and cast her spell the moment we find the humans. If we find them. So far there’s been very little to go on. Without Soren’s eagle eye, we wouldn’t even know whether we were heading in the right direction.I grit my teeth. No. We will find them. I won’t lose confidence. We’re faster, stronger and have more to los
NixieThe early morning mist clings to the trees, swirling in ghostly tendrils as I walk. The world is quiet, wrapped in the hush of dawn. Usually this is my favorite time of day, but something about the silence unsettles me this morning.It’s too still. The usual sounds of small creatures rustling in the underbrush are absent.A shiver traces down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Some ancient instinct whispers a warning, telling me to slow down.I halt, scanning the treeline. My breath puffs out in a slow, measured exhale. At first, there’s nothing. Just shadows between the trunks and the occasional shift of mist as a breeze stirs it through the air.I squint suddenly, picking up a different kind of movement in the distance. Something shifts, causing a disturbance in the underbrush, subtle but deliberate. It causes the slightest quiver of leaves. If I hadn’t been watching, I wouldn’t have noticed. But I am watching.My pulse hammers. Someone, or something,
Arlo Malcolm is nowhere to be found. The place where he was last seen is nothing but empty air and crushed leaves. No scent of him lingers, no footprints mark the dirt. It’s as if he vanished into thin air.But we all know better. He won’t leave, not until he’s gotten what he wants. Whatever the hell that is. Right now, he’s making sure we know that he’s toying with us.I crouch, fingers skimming the disturbed earth. Soren is beside me, his expression grim, nostrils flaring as he scents the air. “Nothing,” he mutters. “No trace of him.”That alone makes my skin crawl. There should be something. Sweat, old food, even the faintest whiff of adrenaline. But the air is clean, unnaturally so.“We keep moving,” I decide. “There’s only one direction he could’ve gone.” He would have been spotted if he came closer to the pack house and the ravine is too steep and crumbly to traverse.We head deeper into the woods, our footfalls silent on the damp leaves. The deeper we go, the worse the growing