ArloMy mate is beyond compare. Her scent is intoxicating to me. Deep, sweet and rich, underpinned by honeyed heat. Lush, enchanting and endlessly alluring. One whiff makes me want to throw my head back and howl. Informing the world that she’s mine.Her pupils are blown wide and her thighs are trembling from the effort to hold back her orgasm. Her sweet nectar coats my fingers and I can’t hold back the growl rumbling in my chest. “Mine. I have to taste you.” I rip her pretty underwear with my teeth and immediately bury my head in her sweet, succulent mound. My tongue lapping hungrily at her musky ambrosia, the need to claim her growing out of control.“So fucking good,” I hum, sucking on her clit so more of her juices rush out to meet my tongue. Her walls clench around my fingers and she’s shaking like a leaf. “Arlo. Please. Please, let me orgasm.” Her words help me focus again, reminding me that this is all about her. My desires can wait. I want her to cum on my cock, harder than she
HildaYou’d swear we’d been separated for 2 weeks and not 2 days. Arlo and I can’t get enough of each other and it’s nearly sunrise again by the time we finally manage to stay in a naked, sweaty tangle without lust driving us to lunge at each other again.“I love you, have I told you that recently?” Arlo asks, pushing the tangled hair off my brow and attempting to tuck it behind my ear. “I lost focus for a while there, but I believe so,” I say hoarsely. “Oh babe, you need water,” he says in concern, unwrapping his arms, which were holding me close to his chest, and getting up to head to the kitchen naked.The view is superb. His ass is a work of art, his legs long and muscular, his broad back topping tapered hips. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Arlo nude. “You’re going to get me all riled up again if you keep looking at me like that,” he warns when he returns with 2 glasses of water.I’m too tired for any more right now. My body aches gloriously and I can barely keep my
Soren Something isn’t right. I certainly never spoke to Maelor about still having feelings for Hilda, how does he know about that? I’m also just about sure that I can feel Cerelia’s presence here. Perhaps the kindly mage who helped me, isn’t quite so done with the dark arts as he’d like me to believe.“Maelor, I’m in a hurry. I need your help to find where your former associates meet. You’ve stuck your neck out this far, please stretch a little more. I will protect your life with my own if it comes down to it, but I have to find Cerelia.”Maelor shakes his head sadly, looking genuinely sympathetic. “I’m sorry Soren, but I don’t know. They use magic to conceal their presence and the spell will be woven to specifically keep me from finding them.”“You also still practice magic, cast a different spell to undo theirs!” I demand more forcefully than I intended to. He looks at me like I’m mad. “They pool their strength, I can’t fight that. There’s nothing I can do to help you. I’ve told yo
Hilda“You did what?” Arlo asks, looking like he’s about to explode. “I didn’t go alone!” I defend myself against the torrent of reprimands that I’m sure is about to follow. His eyes rake over me anxiously, as if he’s afraid there may be some damage he missed before.“There’s no part of me you haven’t inspected minutely in the past 24 hours Arlo, I’m fine. Kestrel was with me and we turned around when I sensed danger.” He doesn’t seem mollified, “I told you to stay here so you could be safe, not so you’d go boldly traipsing into danger without a second thought! And don’t think for a moment that I believe you invited Kestrel to go with you. I’m willing to bet my life on it that you were told by the guards to take an escort!”I’m trying not to pout, or show him how thrilled I am by the fact that he knows me so well. “What else was I supposed to do while you were gone? Stay inside and read a book?” Arlo throws his hands into the air dramatically, “Yes! That’s exactly what you were suppos
CereliaI can’t see him, but I sense his presence immediately. Soren didn’t leave and he knows I’m here. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m angry about the things he said. His outrageous assumption that either Hilda or I would be happy to share him.But. He genuinely seemed concerned about me and frantic to save me from my supposed captors. He also said he loves me and I believed him.I barely slept last night because I feel so guilty about allowing him to leave without showing myself. And my doubts about Maelor’s true nature have resurfaced with a vengeance. Arista showing up was bad enough, but the way he lied to Soren, without a flicker of guilt to be observed, stirred up all of my misgivings again.I still don’t want to talk to Soren, but I’m not a child and running back inside and hiding under the bed isn’t an option. Sadly.“Fine Soren, you’ve found me. Come out and we’ll talk,” I call out, sure he’s close enough to hear me. I’m hoping Maelor will sleep through the noise. H
Arlo She never stops amazing me. I know she has to be frightened of going back to the area where the cabal practices their evil magic. None of us knows what to expect and she told me all about the sense of dread she felt when she and Kestrel stumbled across the place.Yet she never wavers. Her steps are strong and sure, hurrying toward the danger to face it head-on. Not that I’ve had a moment’s doubt, but she keeps proving every day, in every way, what an incredible Luna she’s going to be.“We’re very close now. I really hope we’ll be able to save the women,” Hilda says quietly, so only I can hear her. I share that wish, but I doubt it’ll come to pass. Why would they have needed so many women if the previous ones weren’t dead? Women I brought to them, probably kicking and screaming. I still have no memory of it.“Stop it,” Hilda whispers fiercely. “Even your warriors believe in your innocence. I know I’m biased. I love you and I’m addicted to your incredible body,” she adds with a sl
Arlo“Find her!” I roar, rushing forward blindly, not even feeling the impact as I bounce off the trees. I can’t smell her, I can’t feel her and the cold, quiet desolation I suffer in the absence of her bright warmth is making me crazy. It’s impossible to stop and think. I have to keep moving. I have to find her.I’m not going back without her. We don’t know what they use the women they take for, but I know none of them have ever come back. Without Hilda I have no life. Nothing has any meaning. I can’t lose her.“Arlo, slow down,” Percy says quietly, his voice heavy with heartache. “We’re not going to make any headway like this. Put your hand on my shoulder and follow me. We’re pushing on, getting past their damn barrier, no matter what they throw at us. I also love her. We all do, in our hearts she’s already our Luna, but you know she’s my friend as well and I’m determined to find her.”Under different circumstances his words would have sent my spirits soaring. To know my most truste
CereliaThere’s so much for me to process. Soren didn’t cheat on me of his own free will. Maelor’s misdirection won’t work on me. The fact that he couldn’t fight off the spell he was under has nothing to do with how much he loves me. It was put directly on him, while passed to Hilda secondhand when she touched the book.“I intend to be the greatest mage that ever lived, Maelor,” I tell him with a confidence I don’t really feel. “But not as your puppet. I will be a force for good, not evil. I will stand against you, not by your side.”Maelor laughs derisively, before sneering at me, “You have potential Cerelia, not power. Without anyone to unlock it, you will remain a stunted little tree. You can perform parlor tricks and basic spells, nothing that could harm me. Join us or die, the choice is yours.”Soren changes in the blink of an eye, leaping for Maelor’s throat with his jaws stretched wide. I don’t waste the opening he gives me, sprinting around Maelor in an effort to get to Soren’
NixieI find Hilda sitting on the porch of her cabin, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The bruises from her fight with Damon are already fading, but the exhaustion lingers in the set of her shoulders. Even so, she looks up as I approach, her lips curving into a welcoming smile."Daily visits now, you’re checking up on me," she accuses before I can even speak. I snort, stepping onto the porch. "I like to think of it as an unannounced wellness inspection. Making sure my Luna stays out of trouble."Hilda chuckles, scooting over to make room for me. "I’m fine, just bored out of my skull. Arlo’s being very overbearing and forcing me to rest."I sit beside her, stretching my legs out. "You almost died. Humor him." She shrugs nonchalantly, "I’ve almost died plenty of times before. It’s all part of being a warrior.”"So is knowing when to take it easy," I counter. Hilda looks at me shrewdly, “So you’d be fine staying in bed for a week after one little fight?” I roll my eyes, “I’m
HildaTara’s cottage is on the outskirts of the pack lands, a modest, weathered place half-swallowed by the creeping forest. My boots crunch over the frost-stiffened ground as I approach, the sense of unease that’s been gnawing at me sharpening with every step.I knock, then push the door open when I hear a quiet, “Come in.” Tara is sitting at her kitchen table, her hands curled around a steaming mug that smells of peppermint and ginger. She must have a headache.She looks up as I enter, her grey eyes guttering with something. Surprise? Apprehension? It’s gone too fast to tell. I close the door behind me, grateful to be out of the cold. “Tara, how are you?”“Hilda,” she replies, her voice careful, controlled, “This is an unexpected surprise. You look well.” I smile, unable to return the compliment.I take a seat across from her, studying her. She looks thinner than I remember, her sharp features more pronounced, eyes blazing far too brightly, and there’s a tightness around her mouth t
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