(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
(Soren)The night was thick with tension over our camp. The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows and flickering light on the determined faces of those gathered around. Cerelia and Damon were there, their expressions mirroring the resolve we all felt, but the weight of uncertainty pressed heavily upon us. We sat in silence, the forest around us whispering its secrets, when a scout arrived, breathless and urgent, handing me a letter. It was from Maelor. “Soren,” the letter began, the handwriting unmistakably his, “I wish I could have delivered this message in person, but the dangers I face have made that impossible. What I’m about to tell you changes everything we thought we knew.” I read the words aloud to the group, my voice steady despite the unease growing in my chest. “It seems King Arlo might not be the mastermind behind the rituals. There are indications that he was being manipulated by someone within the coven.” “What?” Damon interrupted, his voice edged with disbe
(Hilda)I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart as I looked up at Arlo. The night around us was quiet, the stars above twinkling as if they were watching our exchange. Arlo stood before me, his presence both comforting and unsettling, his openness seemingly genuine, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that something lay beneath the surface, something I needed to uncover.“Alright,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the turmoil inside me. “I want to know everything. I need to understand what’s really happening with the pack. And I need to know why you’ve been so… secretive.”Arlo’s expression softened, but I noticed a flicker of something in his eyes… a hesitation, perhaps? He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “Hilda, I’ve never intended to keep anything from you. The truth is, there are matters of the pack that are complex and difficult. I’ve been trying to protect you from unnecessary worry.” “Protect me?” I echoed, my voice edged with s
(Hilda)That night, the tension between Arlo and me seemed to dissolve into the stillness of the air, yet the turmoil within me only grew stronger. My thoughts twisted and turned, caught between the loyalty I felt for Soren and the undeniable pull I felt toward Arlo. But as the night stretched on, I allowed myself to be enveloped in the warmth of Arlo's presence, feeling my resolve weaken. The forest around us was serene, the stars above shimmering as silent witnesses to our conversation. Arlo's words echoed in my mind, laced with sincerity and a promise of something more. I couldn’t deny the magnetic attraction that drew me closer to him, even as I fought the conflicting emotions raging inside me. Arlo stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thank you, Hilda," he murmured, his voice full of relief and sincerity. "I promise you won't regret this." A rush of emotions flooded through me. Hope, fear, and an undeniable attraction that I could no longer ignore. The connection b
ArloHilda’s screams could probably be heard in the next territory over. And if they can’t, she’s doing her best to make sure they will be soon. “Breathe, love,” I say, brushing her damp hair from her face.She turns the full force of her glare on me, “If you tell me to breathe one more time, I swear on the moon, I will rip your throat out.” Cerelia snorts softly but wisely keeps her attention on the business end of this operation.I swallow hard, nodding. “Right. No more breathing advice.”Hilda groans as another contraction seizes her, fingers digging into my forearm with strength that would make towering warriors cower.I would take every ounce of her pain if I could, bear it a thousand times over just to spare her this agony. But all I can do is kneel beside her, letting her crush my hand as she brings our daughter into the world.“You did this to me,” she growls, panting through the pain. “I know,” I say solemnly, as though she’s just sentenced me to exile. “I’m so sorry.” She na
CereliaSoren and I arrived late last night. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Hilda’s time was near and I insisted we come and wait. My best friend isn’t going through labor without me there to help.I step out onto the porch, stretching beneath the pale morning sun. Arlo’s pack has been nothing but welcoming since Soren and I arrived, but there’s an undercurrent of tension in the air. The anticipation of Hilda’s labor and a lingering fear of Tara’s prediction about their Luna is keeping everyone on edge.Hilda joins me, walking over from their cabin next door. She settles into one of the wooden chairs with great care. She looks exhausted, but there’s a glint of resolve in her gaze.“I never thought it would come to this,” Hilda murmurs, breaking the silence. I don’t need to ask what she means. The deal with Astaroth lingers like a ghost between us, its’ potential consequences a looming shadow.“You did what you had to,” I say, leaning against the railing. “The other option was a dea
Morgana The air in my chamber shifts, the temperature plummeting as the shadows deepen unnaturally. The scent of brimstone lingers on the edges of my senses before I hear the slow, deliberate click of boot heels on the wooden floor."Morgana, darling," Astaroth purrs, his voice as smooth and decadent as aged whiskey, laced with something far more potent and dangerous. "Did you miss me? You don’t visit, you don’t write, I’m feeling all blue at this terrible neglect."I don’t startle or betray the ripple of unease slithering down my spine. Instead, I turn in a leisurely fashion, an indulgent smirk curling my lips as I take him in.He lounges against the doorframe, every inch the devilish aristocrat he delights in portraying. More shadow than person but he manages to give the general idea. Sharp features are framed by a fall of obsidian hair, his midnight-black attire pristine save for the faint trace of blood at his cuff. Whose, I do not know. Nor do I care."Astaroth," I coo, lifting
Hilda“Hilda, we already had an agreement. You had no right to gamble with your life that way. What if the demon didn’t back down and instead he attacked you?” Arlo growls, his voice low and vibrating with barely controlled fury.His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, his entire body tense, like he’s one breath away from shifting.I step toward him, meeting his anger head-on. “I will not apologize for refusing to accept that you offer your life in exchange for ours.” My voice shakes, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of what we’ve just done. “I won’t lose you, Arlo. I won’t.”“Oh, by all means,” Astaroth drawls, stretching his arms as if this entire situation is mildly amusing. “Please, continue to have your domestic spat right here in front of me. I don’t have places to be. And ‘the demon’ has a name and feelings. Spurious accusations of unwarranted violence wounds me deeply.”I glare at him. “I highly doubt that.” He places a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Wow
Hilda I want to scream. I want to claw at what remains of the walls of this ruined temple and tear the very foundation apart, rip through stone and time itself, anything to stop the words that are spilling from Arlo’s lips.But I can’t. I can only stand here, hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I watch the man I love offer himself to a demon.Arlo’s voice is steady, resolute. “Tell me what you want as payment for ending Morgana.” Astaroth pretends to think about it, “Your soul, and then your life. You could be a useful guard dog in the underworld. I have many enemies down there. Demons who are jealous of my success.”No. No, no, no. Arlo nods calmly, “Fine. But only after our daughter is born and I know she and Hilda are both healthy and safe, and Morgana is gone.”Astaroth smiles, slow and indulgent, as if savoring a particularly fine wine. “Ah. The noble sacrifice. How very predictable. It hurts that you won’t just take my word that I’ll uphold my
ArloHilda is quiet as we walk, but her fingers remain tightly laced with mine, her grip tight, as if she’s afraid I might slip away. The air is thick, heavy with the threat of a coming thunderstorm, but the weight pressing down on my chest has nothing to do with the weather.I glance at Hilda from the corner of my eye, at the set of her jaw, the way she seems to permanently keep one hand protectively over her stomach lately. I know she’s trying to be strong, trying to accept the choice we’ve made.The choice I made. The only one I can live with. I squeeze her hand, “You’re too quiet. That never means anything good.” She exhales sharply through her nose. “I’m just thinking.”“Dangerous endeavour, you wouldn’t want to go making a habit of it.” That earns me a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Are we absolutely sure this is the only way?” she asks, her voice abnormally tentative. “That you have to deal with him?”It breaks my heart that she’s holding onto some small shred of h
HildaThe silence after Cerelia’s warning is suffocating. Thick with unspoken fears and impossible choices. My hand trembles where it rests against my stomach, protectively hovering over the innocent life in there. She hasn’t even taken her first breath, and yet she’s already at the centre of a deadly conflict.Arlo stands across from me, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. I can see his impotent fury at this untenable situation. He wants to fight. To strategize. But this isn’t a battle of strength or tactical maneuvering.“We have to talk to Astaroth,” I say, breaking the silence. The words taste like poison on my tongue. “No.” Arlo’s response is instant, as sharp as a blade. His eyes burn as they meet mine. “We’ll find another way.”“There isn’t one.” My voice wavers, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “I don’t dare attempt to wield Veilbreaker while I’m still pregnant. We don’t know what it would do to our daughter if my life essence is drained and it’s the only thing we
CereliaI’m not quite asleep, but I can sense something beckoning to me. Perhaps another nightmare waiting to bleed into reality. But I move closer anyway, drawn by a whisper that is neither sound nor silence.A presence lingers here, just beyond the veil of the living. I’ve never communed with the dead before and I’m honestly not overly eager to start now.A shiver runs through me and it feels like the world is holding its’ breath. Time stretches interminably and then, from the darkness, a voice speaks.“Cerelia.” I don’t flinch, even if every instinct I possess screams at me to run. The voice is hollow, echoing as if spoken through a cavern of time.A figure flickers into existence before me. A pale woman, her face gaunt, silvery eyes filled with something ancient and knowing.“Who are you?” I ask, my voice firm despite the ice creeping down my spine. “The one chosen to deliver a warning,” she says, and it’s not just her voice I hear. It’s the weight of countless others before her,
MorganaThe night air is thick with fear, and I drink it in like the finest wine. The chaos I’ve sown wraps around me, intoxicating, exhilarating. They run in circles, desperate to find Tara, too blind to see that she was never truly missing. Not in the way they think.I stretch my stolen limbs, rolling my shoulders, feeling the resistance of this weakening shell. Tara fought me harder yesterday than she ever has before, clawing at the edges of my control like a wild animal.It cost me. I had to dig deep, unravelling her from within, silencing her screams until they were nothing more than whispers lost in the abyss. But the strain is evident. Our body is deteriorating much faster than anticipated. Who would have guessed timid Tara would be so troublesome?I need a new vessel. A stronger one. Of course, my perfect vessel is even now being grown in Hilda’s distended belly, but I was supposed to have time. Tara’s body should have lasted long enough to raise the infant to a child before I