Cerelia I can’t say that studying magic has been drearier than I thought. It’s fascinating, eventful, exciting. Maelor is a good teacher and he warms to me very quickly. He’s not what I first expected. He seemed a bit sullen and reluctant, but he’s come out of his shell completely. Throwing himself into our lessons with great fervor.“How exactly did you do it? I understand the talisman was to ward off evil, but on its own it could never have defeated someone as great as Lilith. Did you feed power into it somehow?” He’s been questioning me about it since the first day I got here.“Maelor, if I knew, I’d tell you, I really would. I’m sorry, but it’s all a blur. I was sure I was going to die and I reached for the only weapon I had. I never expected what happened next and it was all so fraught with danger I was flooded with adrenaline. Everything in that moment was strange to me, I can’t remember what I felt like, only what I saw happening to Lilith.”He sighs and pouts for a while. “Wh
Hilda“You’re not coming along,” Arlo tells me forbiddingly. He makes sure to use a tone that brooks no argument, but I’m brooking anyway, because there’s no way in hell it’s a good idea for us to split up. The mating bond between us is so powerful, that we do everything better when we’re together.I’m a stronger fighter, we both heal faster, we can anticipate the others thoughts and I’m happier when I know Arlo’s within touching distance. What a difference a few days can make in your life when you stop running from what’s right in front of you.“I’m not staying behind either. You can let me travel with the rest of the pack or I’ll follow along behind on my own, the choice is yours,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Hilda, this isn’t a game. Rolf all but admitted Soren’s focus on war is led by his desire to get you back. You’re not going anywhere near him. I’m going to challenge him to a one-on-one fight and we’ll put an end to this once and for all.”His face softens when
Arlo I’m traveling with a small group of my best warriors. Nixie because she’s as fast as the wind. If things go wrong and we need back-up she can outrun anyone. Percy is my Beta and it was another area of contention between me and Hilda. I wanted him to stay behind and guard her, she insisted I should have my strongest fighter by my side.If convincing her to stay hadn’t already been so tough, I would have kept arguing until she saw things my way, but I was terrified she’d change her mind and decide to follow us. She’s more than worthy of being a Luna. Not much can sway her from her course, not even a direct order from her Alpha, I think to myself with a rueful smile.There’s no doubt in my mind anymore that none of my previous ‘mates’ had ever truly been intended for me. The way I feel about Hilda is indescribable. Her presence both electrifies and calms me. The whole world looks different to me now. I never realized how bleak my general outlook was until she came along and splashe
HildaArlo’s only been gone for a day and I’m already driving myself nuts. It seems inconceivable that a few short weeks ago I still had doubts about our relationship. It’s as though the thought of losing him flipped a switch inside of me, lighting up all the dark, hidden places and showing me the truth.I still shudder in shame when I think about my night of illicit passion with Soren. It was such an awful thing to do, something I would never have believed either of us capable of, but if it hadn’t happened, would I still be vacillating between trusting in my new bond and hankering for what I lost?I hope Soren can find the same peace and happiness that I have. That Cerelia is back with him and she can convince him to let go of his ridiculous determination to depose Arlo. I wish there was something I could do to steer him on to a different course of action. I don’t want him to die. I want him to live his own life and to let Arlo and me live ours.Goosebumps pop out on my arm when I re
CereliaI’m just getting started on dinner when someone starts hammering on the door of Maelor’s cottage. We take turns cooking, which I appreciate, even if the food he prepares is barely edible. It’s nice to feel that he sees me as an equal and not his temporary maid.Nobody else has come here since my arrival and he’s a recluse as far as I know. Maybe it’s a lost traveler. Whoever it is certainly seems to be in a panic, judging by the severity of the knocking. Maelor’s gone out to forage for herbs. Many of the ingredients needed for potions only bloom at night, or need to be picked at specific times of the day.“We have a problem-“ the woman snarls, snapping her mouth shut when she takes me in. “Who the hell are you?” she asks angrily. She’s older than I am, appearing to be in her mid-30’s. She’s flawlessly beautiful, with porcelain skin, glossy ebony hair, emerald eyes, ruby lips and an hourglass figure. She should take my breath away with her perfection but it seems too unnatural
SorenArlo’s message infuriates me on every level. I’ve made no headway in my search for Cerelia and I’m terrified of what could be happening to her. My hope was to avoid facing him in battle until I had her back by my side.I also have no intention of facing him one on one. The outcome is too uncertain. This is exactly why I would be a better leader than him, I don’t believe brute force should determine who leads the Alphas. I can’t frame it that way for the others though, werewolves respect physical strength far too much.“So this can all be over really fast and then you can enlist the help of all the packs to find our Luna,” Lewis says excitedly. He’s young and naïve. “I’m not dueling King Arlo,” I tell him flatly, “I have to find Cerelia first.”Lewis looks confused, “But it will be over quickly. If you don’t go through with it, what will our allies think?” Damon smiles at me coldly, running a whetstone across the edge of his dagger, “Yes Soren, what will the other wolves think? T
HildaArlo’s home much sooner than I expected and he’s very upset about the way things played out. I can’t deny that I’m relieved to know that he and Soren are both still alive. “He’s continuing to spread the rumor that I’m involved with dark sorcery and using Cerelia’s disappearance as an excuse to avoid facing me,” Arlo rails, while I drink him in with my eyes.“Hilda, you have to stop looking at me like I’m a snack. It’s very difficult to vent while you undress me with your eyes.” We’re in his office and it’s the middle of the day, but I don’t think I’ll make it until tonight. “You are a snack,” I tell him firmly as I lock his office door and pull the curtains closed, “And I’m intending to undress you with my hands in just a moment.”His pupils flare with need and he has me pinned against the wall in the blink of an eye, one hand trapping my wrists above my head. “Is that so?” he growls quietly, deftly undoing the buttons on my shirt with his free hand, his lips trailing hot, wet k
Cerelia We’re working on my stamina when there’s a loud knock at the door. I have a lot of magic, but my control is still lacking and I tire quickly when I try and use it. “Maelor!” My heart nearly jumps out of my chest when I hear Soren’s voice.I didn’t sense him approaching, how’s that possible? Has our bond been broken? I look for it inside myself and it takes a minute to find it. Battered, bruised and dull, but still there. The sound of his voice makes my insides ache. Part of me still longs to be in his arms more than anything. If only he didn’t long for someone else.Maelor looks at me worriedly, speaking a few words under his breath. I can’t see the barrier he’s put up, but I sense it. “He can’t hear us. You have to make a decision and fast. Do you want to stay here, or go back to your pack with your unfaithful mate? I can hide you from his sight if you decide to stay.”This should be easy, but it’s not. In spite of what Soren’s done, I still love him. The sense of betrayal a
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
DamonI move like a phantom through the trees, my senses locked onto the faint scent trail I found near the border. It’s fresh, leading deeper into the forest, winding toward something old. Something my instincts are warning me is something very wrong.My lip curls, but I keep following. The girl doesn’t even know she’s being tracked. Sloppy and amateurish. Hard to believe she got away with murder.I’d gone back to where the boy’s body was left, circling the perimeter, looking for any trace of the killer. What I found was her scent. Faint at first, but unmistakable. And now I’ve followed it here, to the ruins of something ancient that reeks of magic.She emerges just as I crouch behind the thick brush, watching. Her expression is tight, her breathing uneven, like she’s been doing something she shouldn’t have. Her eyes are distant and unfocused.She hesitates before taking a step away from the ruins, like something inside is calling to her and she wants to run away.She’s clearly a wit
TaraThe pull is impossible to fight tonight. It’s no longer a whisper in the back of my mind or Morgana’s voice slithering through my thoughts. Something in my blood is demanding that I move, go, find it.The moon is high as I slip away from the pack house, casting long shadows on the ground. My heartbeat is steady, but there’s an electricity in the air, a crackling energy that makes my skin hum.The further I go, the less I feel like myself. My body moves with purpose, but it isn’t my own. My feet follow a path I shouldn’t know, weaving deeper into the forest, far past the borders I know it’s not safe to cross.That’s it, Morgana coos, her voice stronger than ever. You’re so close now.The trees grow taller and more densely packed together. I haven’t been following a path for some time now, yet I don’t feel lost. The ground slopes downward, and my breath catches when I see it, more than half-hidden by the forest’s grasp, crumbling stone swallowed by vines and time.I know immediatel
PercyI don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed getting my ass handed to me quite as much as I do when it’s Nixie doing the handing.We’ve been sparring for the past twenty minutes, and while I’d love to say I’ve been holding my own, that would be a lie. A beautiful, pride-saving lie. But the truth is that Nixie fights like she has something to prove. And maybe she does.My biggest problem is that I keep getting distracted by her gorgeous eyes and the fluid movements of her incredible body. How had I never noticed before how spectacularly she fills out her tight, black uniform?Her foot sweeps toward my legs, and I barely dodge in time, stumbling back and grinning at the sharp glint in her gaze. She’s fast and unpredictable, all fluid motion and coiled strength.And I’d probably be faring better if I wasn’t so busy watching her, cataloging every flicker of emotion across her face. "You’re not focused," she snaps, circling me like a predator scenting blood."Oh, I’m focused," I assure her. "Just
DamonHilda was alone. For a moment, I thought the gods had finally answered my prayers as she stood frozen over the body, her face pale in the moonlight, eyes wide with shock.I crept close enough to smell the iron tang of blood in the air, to hear the way her breath hitched in her throat. I had the perfect vantage point, hidden in the shadows, watching her, waiting for the right moment.But then I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck. The unmistakable sensation of being watched. I retreated before I could be seen, disappearing into the darkness, cursing whoever had ruined my chance.Now, sitting in the depths of our makeshift camp, I replay the moment over and over. If I had been just a little faster, if I had stepped in before she’d noticed the body, she would be dead. The thought sends rage curling through my gut.The fire crackles in front of me, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the warriors who followed me into exile. It still stings that only ten of them stayed l
TaraThe voice isn’t just a whisper anymore. It’s a constant presence, slithering through my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like creeping vines. Morgana doesn’t just speak to me, she presses against me, her will curling around mine, demanding more, more, more.And the worst part is that I’m starting to feel her power calling to me.It started subtly. A tingling in my fingertips. A flicker of something curling in my chest. But then the surges started. Raw bursts of energy that left me gasping, burning from the inside out. It feels wonderful when it happens, intoxicating and limitless.But when it’s over it leaves me empty and hollowed out. Like some integral part of me has been siphoned away.You’re not losing anything, Morgana purrs in my mind. You’re becoming what you were always meant to be.I dig my nails into my palm, trying to anchor myself. No, I think fiercely. I’m part of this pack. This is my home. I’m already who I’m meant to be.She laughs, a sound like crackling embers.
HildaSomething isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, coiled in my chest like a serpent, just waiting for the right moment to strike. And there’s no way Damon is causing this kind of anxiety in me.My bond with Arlo is indestructible. His touch anchors me and his love fortifies me. Our pack is united. They’re all giddy with excitement about the baby and no hidden whispers of dissent linger in the air. They love Arlo now and as conceited as it sounds, they adore me. Crediting me with saving their King.Despite all of this, the sense of dread won’t let go of me. I want to spend every day out on patrol with the warriors, but not even my stubborn streak trumps the swollen feet brought about by my current condition when I stand for too long.Then the dreams start.I’m standing in an endless field of snow, the silence so thick it presses against my ears. I want to reach for Arlo, but I know he’s not there. Then, suddenly, the snow shifts and dozens of wolves rise from the