(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
(Soren)I paced back and forth in the clearing. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, my heart hammering in my chest as I waited, praying that Hilda would show up. It had been days with no sign of her, but I kept my promise. I showed up every night. I waited for her. I needed to warn her. But more than that, I needed her help to get to Lilith. I had no chance without her, without King Arlo. And then I would expose King Arlo’s deceit and protect the pack. I had been so sure that she would see reason, that she would stand by my side against King Arlo’s tyranny. But doubt gnawed at the edges of my confidence, its claws digging deeper with every second that ticked by. I glanced at the trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. The sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The serenity of the forest was at odds with the turmoil inside me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This had to work. Hilda had to understand. When she fi
(Arlo)I loved her. I loved everything about her. From the moment I found her in the woods, bleeding and whimpering like a fawn, I loved her. The mate bond was nothing compared to the love I felt for her. I needed her. I needed to hear her voice, to feel her touch. Every time I saw her, I felt happier than I’d ever been before. Every time I heard her voice, it was like nothing I’d ever heard. She changed my world with her presence. But I couldn’t get too close to her. I hated that. I hated the lies, the control. I didn’t have a choice. "Arlo," my mother’s voice slithered into my consciousness, her tone dripping with malevolence. "Bring her to me. It is time."I stiffened, my hands involuntarily clenching into fists. "No," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "Not this time."Her laughter echoed in my head, cold and cruel, sending shivers down my spine. "You do not have a choice, my son. You never did. Hilda is essential for the ritual. Bring her to me, or face the consequences."
(Arlo)The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Hilda's peaceful face. I watched her sleep, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She looked so serene, so content, and I felt a swell of tenderness for her. I hadn’t been there last night. I would have to explain that. I would have to tell her about my mother. That was a heavy burden that I wished to bear alone, to save her from. But I could only avoid her questions for so long. She would need to know the truth. But maybe not today. Determined to make this day special for her, I quietly headed to the kitchen. I wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed, something sweet and thoughtful to start her day. As I moved around the kitchen, I couldn't help but smile at the memory of her laughter, her moans, and the way she had clung to me. I wanted to give her more moments like that, to show her how much she meant to me.I prepared a tray with freshly made pancakes, a bowl of strawberries, and a
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,
HildaThe fire crackles low in the hearth, casting long shadows against the stone walls of our chamber. I press a hand to my belly. It’s still flat, but I know it will start rounding soon. I’m nearly at the 3 month mark. There’s life inside me again. Another piece of Arlo and me, growing.Scarlett sleeps soundly in the adjoining room, her soft breaths a gentle reassurance that all is well. She’s nearly 2 now and precocious beyond belief. She knows nothing about her bloodlines and being a nexus of power. For now her only job is to be a busy little girl, adored by everyone.Arlo watches me from where he stands near the fireplace, shirt unbuttoned, those deeply carved muscles making me long to touch him. His tawny eyes hold a hunger that hasn’t waned despite the years, despite the child we’ve made and the kingdom we rule. If anything, time has only made it more potent, more consuming.“I can hear your heart racing,” he murmurs, voice thick with that dark, commanding edge that unravels me
HildaI wake up feeling like a person again. A person who’s had sleep. A person who isn’t entirely on the verge of collapse. A person who now has to keep a promise to a demon.Dread coils in my stomach. The moment I remember what Astaroth said, it’s like I never rested at all. I glance at Arlo, who’s staring at the ceiling, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He knows too. We have to go.Scarlett shifts in my arms, her tiny body warm against mine. I hold her closer, pressing my lips to the soft, dark curls on her head. She makes a small sound of contentment, utterly unaware of what we’re walking into.I murmur an apology to her as we walk. “I’m so sorry, my love.” She looks so content. So happy to be outside.My feet feel heavier with every step toward the temple ruins. Arlo’s hand rests protectively against my back. Whatever happens when the demon receives Scarlett’s blood, we’ll both fight to the death to protect her. Fear presses in on me, cold and suffocating, making it harder to breathe th
Hilda Two days. Two full days of no sleep, endless crying, and a tiny dictator ruling our lives with iron lungs and a complete disregard for reasonable sleep schedules.Scarlett wails again, a high-pitched, furious sound, and I groan into my pillow. “It’s your turn.” No response is forthcoming. Cracking open one eye, I glare at Arlo, who is pretending, astonishingly unconvincingly to be asleep.His chest rises and falls with exaggeratedly slow breaths, his face serene, but I know that trick. I’ve used that trick. I jab him in the ribs. “I said it’s your turn.” Arlo grunts, cracking his own bleary eyes open. “I just had her.”I prop myself up on one elbow, narrowing my eyes. “No, you handed her to me five minutes ago and said she was hungry.”He rubs his face, sighing heavily. “She probably still is.” He reaches for the bundle of fury in the bassinet and plops her into my arms before I can protest. “See? She’s making that face.” I scowl at him. “You think every face she makes means sh
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