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
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
HildaI knew Percy and Nixie would come through for me, but they really outdid themselves. Maps. Schedules. Weaknesses. Everything I need to get Arlo back is spread across the heavy oak table in front of me.Of course I’ve always known that they’re efficient and reliable, but what they’ve gotten me goes above and beyond.When they arrived, Nixie’s face was flushed from the cold, her red hair wild in the wind, but there was triumph in her green eyes and I knew things were finally looking up.Percy quietly handed me the bundle of documents. I’m sure he’s better than a human CIA agent it was all so thoroughly set out. Now it’s up to me to take the information and find the best way to get my mate back.I’m only interested in quick results right now. Finesse means nothing in the face of Arlo’s suffering. I won’t allow anyone from outside the compound to be hurt, but those within the walls where Arlo is being tortured, will not be spared.Malcolm is feared but not liked. That much is cle
TaraScarlett is a menace. An adorable, sharp-witted, completely unstoppable menace and Ash has no clue what he’s up against.I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Ash lose yet another argument to the tiny tyrant. He doesn’t stand a chance, and I think deep down, he knows it. Even if he isn’t quite ready to admit defeat yet.“You can’t just order me around like some lackey,” he protests, running a hand through his already-messy dark hair. Scarlett tilts her head, considering. “Yes, I can. What’s a lackey?”Ash exhales through his nose, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “You’re two. And a lackey is a servant.”“I’m almost three,” she corrects primly. “And you already swore loyalty to Mr. Tibbles, which means you have to listen to me.”I press a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. It doesn’t help. Ash glares at me. “You think this is funny?” I shrug. “A little. Did you really bend the knee to Mr. Tibbles? I’m afraid she has you dead to rights then. She’s he’s envoy.”
MalcolmArlo won’t break. Or die. I’ve tried everything. Shooting him in the head. Riddling his entire body with silver bullets. An axe thrown straight into his heart. Nothing sticks. He regenerates time and again.I’m very keen to cut his head off, but nobody wants to get in the cage with him, not even when he’s unconscious. I killed two men for disobeying a direct order, before I decided it was futile.They’re less afraid of my bullets than his fangs. None of them have dared to point out that I haven’t dared enter the cage myself. He’s developing a tolerance for the tranquilizer darts. It takes 6 to bring him down now and he wakes up faster every time.I’m not risking my own life. These darts bring down elephants. They’re the strongest thing on the market. Are they all this strong, or is he special? I thought we’d take them out without any trouble. Wasted a fortune on having silver fucking bullets cast and they do nothing!It should have been easy. It was easy with Milo. A
ArloPain is a funny thing. At some point, your body gets so used to it that it fades into the background. Becoming just a dull, constant throb that you learn to live with.The cold metal of the cage bites into my skin and the bars are slick with my blood. My wrists are raw from the chains, but I barely feel it anymore.I would sell my soul to be in bed next to Hilda’s luscious, warm body right now, listening to Scarlett’s deep breathing from the other room. For a moment I allow myself to believe I’m there, but the presence of pure evil is too distracting.Malcolm leans against the wall across from me, arms crossed, looking as smug as ever. I despise the way he stares at me like I’m an animal in a zoo. Some rarity who’s already dead and he’s just waiting for my body to catch up.“I thought you’d be easier to break. Most men don’t last this long,” he comments quietly. I smile, bloody and sharp. “Most men aren’t me.”Malcolm chuckles, “So you’ve finally decided to speak. I’m honoured. S
HildaThe map Percy drew is spread across the table, its edges curling from being rolled and unrolled too many times. Every mark, every note, every calculation has been pored over again and again. There’s no room for mistakes.I press my hands against the wood, leaning forward, feeling the weight of every decision settle into my bones. He’s been gone for a week and each second feels like an eternity. Now it’s time to move and I’m terrified of failing Arlo.“We have to leave soon, Hilda,” Nixie says quietly, pulling me out of the vortex of indecision I’m drowning in. “I know.” My voice is rough, frayed at the edges.I haven’t slept much, and when I try, it’s filled with Arlo. His pain, his anger, the sheer willpower keeping him alive. I feel it all through our bond, and it’s like an iron chain around my ribs, pulling tighter with every passing hour.Soren’s fingers tap against the hilt of his knife. “We have enough warriors. We’ve gone over every possible way in and out. You’ve made a
HildaThe scent of blood and gunpowder thickens the air as we charge through the compound’s outer defences.My wolves move as one, a force of fangs and fury tearing through Malcolm’s men before they can react.Gunfire erupts, the sharp cracks echoing in the night, but it’s already too late for them. They are human. Fragile. Weak. Slow. And they thought iron bars and bullets would be enough to keep us out.Idiots.I weave through the chaos, claws tearing through the throat of a man who tries to take aim at me. He gurgles, choking on his own blood, before he drops. I don’t stop to watch him die.There are more ahead. All of my warriors are locked in their own battles, cutting down anything that stands in our way.We take hits, wounds that would kill humans. It takes us time to heal and some of my wolves stay down, but I know they’ll rise again after a period of rest. We’re not invincible, or immune to injury, but we’re vastly more formidable than humans can comprehend.I trust my warrio
AshThe streets smell like stale beer, piss, and cheap cigarettes. Fitting, really. This city wears its decay like a second skin. Worn thin in places, rotting in others. And I’m walking straight through its guts, trying to chase ghosts.The note’s still in my pocket. Crumpled now, but the words ring as loud as ever. He knows. I don’t like being watched. I like it even less when the person watching knows exactly who I am.Don’t even get me started on Tara. She's making this harder than it has to be, with her sharp wit, easy laughter and those big eyes that look at me like I’m not a monster. Like I could be more than who I am. It’s dangerously distracting.I find the people I’m looking for near the river, where the city hides its’ disrepute. There’s a makeshift fire burning in a metal drum and a few bundled-up figures huddled around it, trying to ward off the chill.I keep my hands where they can see them as I approach. Nobody around here trusts clean boots and a straight spine.“Ev
Tara When I wake, the first thing I notice is that the bed beside me is empty. The second is the faint, echoing thud of my heart as I remember what happened the night before.The words are still carved into my thoughts like they were burned there: He knows. Who knows? What exactly? And who dropped the note there? So smoothly that even my werewolf senses didn’t pick it up.I sit up slowly, my nerves tangled like a knotted necklace. Ash is pacing by the window, fully dressed in black again. I’m sure he knows how good the color looks on him.“Morning,” I croak. “Staring dramatically into the sunrise, or just brooding for fun?” He glances over his shoulder, eyes flicking to my face like he’s assessing me for damage. “A little of both.”“Did you sleep?” I ask, only to be met with a nonchalant shrug. “Beauty rest is for people without enemies.”I throw the blanket off and slide to the edge of the bed. My legs feel a little wobbly as I remember the look on his face last night once we were
TaraAmber smells like wealth and cigars, and I feel like a walking accident waiting to happen.I step into the lounge on Ash’s arm, wearing the red dress that hugs me in all the right places and exposes every ounce of self-doubt I possess. My heels click against the floor like gunshots. Heads turn. Ash smiles like he owns the place. I try not to trip."Chin up," he murmurs, guiding me further into the lounge. "You’re a queen, remember?""I feel like a cautionary tale." He chuckles low, the sound curling around my spine. “A very sexy cautionary tale.” I jab him in the ribs with my elbow. “Don’t make me spill out of this thing.”Ash orders another bottle of ridiculously expensive wineand leads us to the same table as last night. Already, I can feel eyes on me. "Showtime," Ash whispers, topping off my glass.I glance around the room, trying to find the man from last night—the one who watched me like he was memorizing every freckle. It doesn’t take long. He’s seated at the bar this time,
Tara The sun creeps through the motel blinds like it’s got something to be smug about. I squint against the glare, the cotton in my mouth reminding me that maybe two glasses of wine, drunk at speed, were a tactical error.My head’s not splitting, but it’s definitely letting me know I made bad choices last night. Ash isn’t in the room.He waltzes in as if on cue, looking infuriatingly perfect. Crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, hair tousled in a way that’s definitely on purpose. He carries a bag in one hand, coffee in the other."You drool when you sleep," he says, placing a cup on the nightstand beside me. "I do not,” I argue. "You do. Adorably, I might add. Like a baby dragon."I sit up, snatch the coffee, and take a sip. Milk, no sugar. He knows how I take it, which should not make me feel all glowy."What’s in the bag?" He grins, wicked and self-satisfied, and holds it up with a flourish. "Your costume for tonight’s return engagement."I take it with more suspicion t
AshThe wine bottle is empty and Tara’s cheeks are glowing like she’s been kissed by the sun. She’s blinking slowly, caught between tipsy and overwhelmed, and I decide that’s our cue.I stand without preamble, smiling suavely at our companions. "We should be heading out," I say with a smile that toes the line between polite and possessive. "My sister isn’t used to these late nights."Tara’s eyes go wide, the perfect doe-in-headlights look, and I almost laugh. The table protests in a flurry of disappointed sighs and offers of more drinks. One man in particular looks personally offended that she’s leaving before he’s managed to charm the dress off her.She waves a hand, pink in the face. "I’m just not much of a drinker," she says apologetically, which is technically true, though I’d categorize her performance tonight as impressively reckless."We may stop by again tomorrow," I offer smoothly. I make sure to catch the eye of the man who’s been lurking at the edge of the crowd. He’s the q
TaraThe moment we step into Amber’s, every instinct I have goes on high alert. It's subtle, but unmistakable, a lull in conversation, the way heads pivot just a fraction too long. I feel eyes on us, and not in a friendly, welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of way.Ash, of course, looks like he belongs on the cover of some luxury lifestyle magazine. Effortless. Debauched. Smug. The smirk he slides across the room is pure velvet, the kind that says, I own this place, you just don’t know it yet.“Relax, little dove,” he murmurs, brushing close enough that his breath grazes my ear. “You look like someone’s about to stab you.”“Maybe because that’s entirely possible,” I whisper back, eyes scanning the room. He chuckles, a low, dark sound that has no business being this comforting, and wraps his arm loosely around my waist.“Just lean into it,” he says smoothly. “You look like a queen, now act like it.”Easy for him to say. The room is a cocoon of decadence. Leather chairs that look too expe
AshThe sun is barely up when I jostle Tara awake, grinning as she groans and buries her face in the pillow. "Get up. We’ve got things to do."She swats at me blindly. "You’re insufferable. It’s too early. Go away." I chuckle, pulling the blanket off her. "Nonsense. It’s the perfect time to go shopping." That gets her attention. She lifts her head, bleary-eyed and scowling. "We don’t have money to waste and you don’t need more clothes."I wave a dismissive hand. "It’s not wasting, it’s investing and we’re going shopping for you. If we’re going to Amber’s tonight, you need to look the part. There’s nothing in your pack that would pass muster at an upmarket establishment. Or anywhere else for that matter. Your clothes should be deemed a crime against fashion."Tara groans, flopping back onto the bed. "Shouldn’t you have a hangover? It’s unnatural to have drunk as much whiskey as you did last night and not suffer for it.""It’s because I was made for debauchery," I say with a smirk. "My
SorenCerelia lies beneath me, her golden hair fanned out across the pillows, her blue eyes heavy-lidded with anticipation. She’s breathtaking, and for a moment I just gaze at her, memorizing the way she looks at me.Want curls through me and I lean over to kiss her. “I have the loveliest mate in the world,” I murmur. She smiles softly, “I think you’re probably a little biased,” she teases.I dip my head to trail kisses down her neck, nuzzling her soft skin and drinking in the sighs of pleasure she offers me in return. My lips slowly trail along her collarbone, while my hands skim down her sides, thumbs brushing along the swell of her breasts. She hums in response, her hands sliding up my back, fingertips tracing the lines of my muscles.Everything about her is gentle and warm and my body responds to every soft sigh and tremor. Her hands frame my face, guiding me into a kiss that’s both sweet and deep, filled with the promise of forever.When we break apart, her gaze locks onto mine,
CereliaThe morning sun filters through the trees, golden streaks painting the forest floor as Scarlett tugs eagerly at my hand. “Come on, Auntie Cerelia! We have to go this way.” Her little feet dance across the mossy ground as she leads me toward the creek.I chuckle, letting her take the lead. As we walk, she chatters non-stop, her small hands waving expressively as words tumble from her mouth.“Did you know Daddy sleeps like a starfish? Mommy says he takes up the whole bed, but he says it’s because he has to be prepared for danger at all times.” She pauses, eyes thoughtful. “But I don’t think that’s true because I poked him the other night, and he didn’t move at all.”I laugh. “Maybe he was too tired to be on high alert.” Scarlett shrugs. “Maybe. Mommy woke up though and took me back to bed. She said I should let the poor man rest. One female in the house sapping his energy is enough.”I laugh softly, “I guess she’s right.” Scarlett nods, “Mommy can be bossy,” she shares, giving m