(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
(Hilda)The morning sun gently woke me from a dreamless sleep. As my eyes fluttered open, they settled on Arlo standing beside the bed. His smile was soft, his eyes radiating a possessive love so deep it seemed to reach into my very soul. “Good morning, love,” he whispered, his voice a soothing melody that made my heart flutter. I returned his smile, a warmth spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with the sunlight. “Good morning, Arlo,” I replied, sitting up slowly. Arlo extended his hand to me. “Come with me,” he said, his voice a soft invitation. We walked together out past the pack to the riverbank. He was quiet as we walked, but his hand gripped mine tightly. When we reached the river he stopped, his face etched with a pain I had never seen before. “Hilda,” Arlo began, his voice low. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.” “Arlo…” I said, looking up into his eyes. “What is it?” But the sound of rustling leav
(Soren)Dragging Hilda through the forest, I couldn't shake the image of her standing between me and Arlo, the look of betrayal on her face cutting deeper than any wound. My grip on her wrist was firm, my pace unyielding. The forest was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves a remainder of the chaos we had just left behind. I knew I had crossed a line by taking her, but there was no turning back now. She had to understand the danger she was in, even if it meant risking everything.The hidden cabin came into view, a small, unassuming structure nestled deep in the woods. I pushed the door open and pulled Hilda inside, releasing her wrist as she stumbled away from me. The cabin was quiet, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. It was a place of secrets and shadows, much like the feelings I had buried deep for far too long."What are you doing, Soren?" Hilda's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. Her eyes flashed with anger, and something else. Betrayal, maybe. It t
(Hilda)My lips still tingled from Soren's kiss, a mix of anger and desire swirling inside me. The small cabin felt like it was closing in, making everything even more intense. "I can't stay here," I said, my voice shaking. "You can't decide what's best for me." Soren's eyes were filled with determination and something else I couldn't name. "I won't let you get hurt," he said firmly. "Not by Arlo, not by anyone." "You don't get it," I snapped. "This isn't about Arlo. It's about you controlling me, thinking you know what's best." His jaw clenched. "Hilda, you don't understand the danger. Arlo is hiding something that could destroy us all." "Then let me decide!" I shouted. "I'm not a pawn in your game, Soren. I can take care of myself." He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "I won't lose you," he said in a low growl. "Not like this." His intensity made my heart pound with fear and something else—something I didn't want to admit. "You have to let me go," I whispered
HildaThe kettle whistles just as the fire sputters, a gust of wind moaning against the windows like a restless spirit. I pour the hot water over the dried mint and lemon leaves in my mug, letting the scent rise up and soothe my frayed thoughts.I miss my daughter. She’s only been gone a few days, but every bone in my body feels the ache of distance.I’m standing by the hearth, cradling the steaming mug in both hands, when her voice suddenly breaks into my thoughts as though I summoned her.“Mom?”My heart leaps with joy. She’s let us know every night that she’s safe, but she hasn’t made contact just to talk before now. “Sweetheart! It’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”“I need a second opinion.”I close my eyes and open myself fully to her. Delighted that she knows I’m always happy to be her sounding board. “I’m listening.”She takes a breath through the bond. I can almost see her chewing the inside of her cheek.“I met someone.”Ah.“A boy?” I ask lightly.“A man,” she correc
ErikLunch ends far too quickly. I could sit across from Scarlett for hours, listening to the soft cadence of her voice and basking in the dulcet tones of the laughter I manage to coax from her.But all good things end, and once the bill is paid, she’s pushing back from the table, brushing invisible crumbs from her short skirt. My eyes linger a moment longer than they should. Her legs are phenomenal. They have to be really, to match the rest of her.“I’ll walk you home,” I offer, standing when she does. She gives me a smile, polite and warm, but it seems a little distracted. “Thanks, but I have some errands to run first,” she tells me. “Grocery shopping and whatnot. Very boring, but necessary.”I nod, easy and gracious. I don’t press; much as I want to tell her I’ll go and dig potatoes on a farm to spend more time with her. “Of course. Maybe another time.”She smiles, “I’d like that. I had a great time.” Her words make me feel like I’m being wrapped in sunshine and candyfloss. “Me too
ChrisThe creek’s running fast today. Snowmelt, probably. The water’s high, curling around the stones like silver fingers, loud enough to drown out everything else if I sit close enough.I crouch near the bank, arms on my knees, watching the current rush past. Cold mist clings to the air, fresh and damp, and I breathe deep.I’ve always liked water. Lakes, rain, the ocean. Anything that moves and ripples and swells. It makes me feel less jagged. Like the tension gets carried away by the current.I pick up a flat stone and whip it across the surface. It skips three times before disappearing. I pick up another. Throw it harder.Gods, I nearly told him. I was so close to spilling my secrets to dad during training. It was right there on the tip of my tongue. The truth, raw and ugly, burning behind my teeth.Part of me wanted to say it. Just… get it out. Rip it off like a bandage. Maybe he’d yell. Maybe he’d stare at me like I’d grown two heads. Maybe he’d be cool about it. As much as Scar
ScarlettI shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s just lunch. A thank-you meal for a guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time. A polite gesture. A totally casual, perfectly innocent—His arm brushes mine as we walk side by side, and my heart does a full somersault in my chest. Calm down.I lead him toward the diner Ash recommended. It’s called Tess’s, a corner place with chrome trim and red vinyl booths. Apparently they make a grilled cheese so good it’s “damn near illegal,” which sounds like something Ash would say while devouring two at once.Chris hasn’t said much since we left the shop, and neither have I. It’s not uncomfortable, though. More like a loaded silence. Tens and electric. Or maybe that’s just me, wound up and over thinking everything.I’ve been trying to convince myself that I remembered him wrong. That maybe he wasn’t quite so striking. That the adrenaline and neon lights and chaos of my arrival painted him in false gold.But no. He’s even more beautiful t
ErikThe scent of herbs and incense clings to everything in the shop, grounding and familiar. I’ve always liked it here. It’s quiet, ordered and purposeful. A place where nothing happens by accident. Unlike home where it’s always noisy chaos.I rest my hands on the counter and watch my mother bundle dried fennel into neat little packets. She does it without looking, eyes on me, brow drawn in that way she gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle that won’t quite fit.“She’s the one,” I tell her again, breaking the silence. She keeps staring at me. “You’re sure?” I nod once. “Scarlett’s the one from the prophecy. There’s no doubt in my mind.”Mother ties off the bundle, her fingers deft and calm. But her voice isn’t. “And you let her get away?” I sigh, “It would have made her suspicious if I tried to lure her inside and get her to stay.”She scoffs, tucking the fennel into a drawer beneath the counter. “You think she’s going to just come back? That she’ll stroll in here, ready to be wha
ArloThe house is too quiet.It’s only been three days since Scarlett left for Raventon, and already I find myself listening for her voice at every turn.I keep expecting to hear her humming in the kitchen, arguing with Chris about something stupid, or bursting into a room halfway through someone else's conversation with a completely unasked for opinion.She’s a storm wrapped in sunshine, and without her here, everything feels a little duller. A little emptier.Chris has been quieter too. Withdrawn. I’ve noticed it, and so has Hilda, though she hasn’t said anything outright. I see the thoughtful way she watches him sometimes.I don’t push right away. I know our son well enough to know when he’s holding something back, but I also know forcing it won’t help.Which is why I suggested he join me for a sparring session this morning. It’s less formal than sitting down and talking. Maybe it’ll be easier for him to open up here.He’s standing across from me in the ring, warmed-up and ready. H
Scarlett“Okay, you have to tell me more about Wolfridge. I thought I was pretty well travelled, but I’ve never heard of it,” Erik says.Now that my brain is working a bit more reliably, I offer him a place name he’ll recognize. “It’s near Wanoon,” I tell him as we navigate a quieter stretch of street, the earlier bustle fading behind us. “But much smaller. Barely a village. This is my first time in Raventon.”Erik whistles low. “That’s a hell of a change. How’re you liking it so far?”I glance up at the buildings crowding the skyline. “It’s loud. And kind of discombobulating. But I think I like it….” I’m not quite convinced yet that the good outweighs the bad, but it has potential.He chuckles softly. “That’s fair. It can be a lot. If you ever want a tour guide, I’ll be happy to show you around.”I glance over at him, smiling a little. “You moonlight as one?”“Only for special cases,” he says with a wink. “You can find me at the shop most days.”The shop. This seems like the perfect
ScarlettI stop walking when the buildings continue to be unfamiliar. For a second, I just stand there, in the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by the clatter of footsteps and the hum of Raventon life.The map Ash gave me is still folded in my back pocket, but when I pull it out and study it again, none of the street names around me match. There’s no “Silvertail Books” or “Ollie’s Curry House” on this hand-drawn paper, only smudged arrows and cocky annotations like “Best bakery. Tell Rita Ash sent you. She’ll give you extra cinnamon rolls.”None of that helps me now.I spin slowly in place, hoping something, anything, will look familiar, but it doesn’t.I take a deep breath. Don’t panic. This is fine. You’re fine. Just lost in a city full of strangers. It’s not even a big deal.I square my shoulders and turn around, prepared to backtrack and maybe find someone who looks like they won’t try to sell me drugs or show me a “secret bar” in their basement. I’ve had enough of men with ulte
ScarlettRaventon is louder than I expected.I stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, blinking as the chaos presses in on all sides. Cars honk, music blares from open doors, voices rise and fall in a constant, unrelenting buzz.My head spins from the non-stop onslaught of stimuli. I pull Ash’s hand-drawn map from my bag and squint at it, trying to orient myself. He wasn’t kidding when he said this part of town was always busy.The map is good, extremely detailed with landmarks carefully noted, but none of that changes the fact that I feel like a hay bale dropped in the middle of a tornado.A woman passing by catches my confused look and smiles. “You lost, sweetheart?”“Kind of,” I admit. “I’m looking for Calder Street?” She gestures behind me. “Take the next right and go straight for two blocks. You’ll see it.”“Thank you!” I tuck the map away and head off in the direction she pointed. I only make it another block before I stop again, turning in a slow circle. None of the signs m