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 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
(Hilda)“Hilda, you can’t fight them alone, you have to go! You have to run!” my mate, Alpha Soren, shouts with the last of his strength. He tries to lift himself off the ground, reaching for me, and I take his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.” I kneel beside him, looking into his eyes. “I love you, Soren. We’re going to survive this together. Or we’ll die together.” “No!” He yells. “Please Hilda, you have to run!”As the words leave his lips an arrow strikes my side. I collapse to the ground, laying beside him, as he cries out my name. I want to comfort him, to reassure him I’m alright, but I need to conserve my strength.With great determination I struggle back to my feet. I’m going to keep fighting to protect him until I exhale my last breath.“Hilda. If we make it out of this alive, I’m making you my Luna. No more wasting time. I love you.”***The world is dark all around me, but his words are a warm, soft blanket surrounding my heart. I wonder where the heavy smell of herbs is c
(Hilda)It’s Cerelia’s Luna coronation ceremony today. It seems like only yesterday that I believed it would be me standing beside Soren, surrounded by our pack, while he confirmed that I was to be his Luna. Now they’re all dressed in their finest and the air is full of joyous celebration for someone else. It’s as if I never existed.I should leave and go back to bed, but I just can’t tear myself away. As I slowly make my way through the crowd, each step sends a sharp jolt of pain through my body. I almost relish the torment, which is nothing compared to the agony in my heart.All I can see is Soren and Cerelia, standing hand in hand and gazing at each other with adoration. The way he looked at me until I opened my eyes and my world imploded.We grew up together. Training side by side. Sharing our hopes and ambitions. I knew him better than anyone and now he’s making another woman his Luna. It’s a betrayal of everything we shared. A man’s voice brings me out of my reverie. “Well, w
(Hilda)My first instinct is to try and fight them off, but my muscles are far too weak after a year of inactivity. The warriors’ grips are like iron and my attempts to struggle are futile.As some of them begin to recognize me as the former Beta of this pack, a warrior who took out many of their comrades, hatred and the thirst for vengeance flare in their eyes. They’re no longer simply following orders, they really want to hurt me.I hate that my eyes fill with tears as desperation claws at my heart. I don’t want to show them that I’m terrified, but panic is overwhelming me. I can’t defend myself in my current condition.Hope surges in my heart when Soren’s voice commands them to stop. The warriors hesitate, releasing their hold on me and for a brief flicker of time I think that Soren may still care about me.Cerelia is by his side, her face a mask of shock and embarrassment as her eyes flash between me and the brother. The crowd’s attention shifts from me to her, and the uncertainty
(Hilda)Damon leaves me alone in the tiny cabin for what feels like an eternity. It’s freezing and I’m hungry enough to start chewing my way through a wall.The worst torment is being alone with my thoughts. Replaying the moment of waking up and Soren’s cold expression when he handed me to Damon like a spoil of war, over and over in my mind.I’m so close to losing my mind completely that I’m happy when 2 of Damon’s men burst into the cabin and drag me outside, throwing me down on the cold, hard ground.Being in the fresh air is wonderful and I bask in the feeling of the freezing wind playing across my face, ruffling my hair almost affectionately.It takes me far too long to raise my gaze and find more than a dozen of Damon’s men standing around me, each of them holding a bow and arrow and looking at me excitedly.They’re planning on hunting me for sport, I realize with dawning horror. I thought Damon’s cruelty had reached its limit, but apparently not.“Go on bitch. We’re giving you a
(Hilda) As if he can sense the turmoil inside me, my rescuer opens his arms and I collapse into them, resting my head against his wide, strong chest. The moment he wraps me in a tight embrace, I shatter. Sobbing into his chest, my body is shaking with the force of my anguish.He holds me close, gently stroking my hair and whispering soothing words that I can’t hear over the deafening roar of my emotions. Tilting my head up, my eyes meet his and madness overtakes me.Without hesitation, I press my lips to his, more than half expecting him to push me away. Instead he hugs me closer. The kiss is tentative at first, as though we’re testing the waters, but need soon eclipses everything else and I kiss him harder, my hands clutching his shirt so I can pull him closer.His lips move against mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless. Hands roam my back, tracing the curve of my spine, igniting a fire within me. I moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Every caress feels
(Hilda)“You’re my mate,” King Arlo repeated, blocking the door. “Your place is here by my side.”I’m not ready for this. I’ve already acted very out of character by sleeping with him after just meeting him, I can’t have found my second chance mate so soon.“No,” I say, my voice firm despite the slight tremble, “I’m not ready for this, it’s too soon after everything with Soren. And you should know that I’m my own woman, King Arlo. I don’t belong to anyone. You’re just… just a rebound.”He seems to find my objection hilarious, barking out a rumbling laugh. “Did you just call the Alpha King your rebound?” he asks with raised brows.His eyes darken as he steps closer to me. A mix of frustration and desire flashing across his features. His presence is imposing and I’m overwhelmed by more than his size. There’s an electric current which crackles between us and my instincts are encouraging me to fall into his arms.“You don’t get to decide when the bond should happen, Hilda,” he tells me, h
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
HildaArlo keeps running his hands over me, looking for wounds. I’m bruised, but mostly whole and I know the baby is fine.He never leaves my side, but he’s barely spoken since he stormed in to find me kneeling over Damon’s corpse, covered in blood.He immediately dropped to his knees, cupping my face with hands that trembled, his eyes scanning every inch of me as if he needed proof I was whole. He wrapped me in a blanket and carried me to the communal bath house, ordering everyone out before carefully bathing me, while others cleaned the mess I left behind.Now, back in our cabin, he paces, his muscles wound tight, his jaw clenched so hard I swear I can hear his teeth grinding. The bond between us hums, thick with his emotions. Relief, rage, something darker and desperate that coils beneath the surface, begging to be let out.I move toward him, placing a hand on his chest. “Arlo, I’m fine-” He spins so fast I barely have time to react before his hands are on me, rough and needy.“You
HildaSomething isn’t right. I feel it before I’m even fully awake, a prickling at the back of my neck, a weight pressing down on my chest.The bond between me and Arlo hums low and steady, but there’s an unease threading through me, a whisper of danger that I can’t ignore. My hand slides beneath the pillow where I keep my knife when I’m sleeping, fingers curling around the hilt.Keeping my eyes shut I take a deep breath. The cabin smells almost the same as usual. Wood smoke, fresh pine, the lingering scent of Arlo on the sheets, the sharp, delicious tang of our fluids perfuming the air, but there’s something else. It’s faint, but it doesn’t belong.Then I hear it. A footstep. Too quiet for most to notice, but I’m not most. I bolt upright just as the door creaks open, and there he is, Damon, daring to come into my fucking home.A slow, cruel smile spreads across his face. “Morning, princess.” My grip tightens around the knife. He looks worse than the last time I saw him. “I’m your Lun