Hilda It seems they already know. About the spell and Maelor being a traitor. “I had no idea he was planning on coming after you Hilda. I would have done everything in my power to get to you before that happened. I’m glad you escaped.”The news of Cerelia’s magical powers came as a shock, but it explains how she was able to make a simple talisman take out the strongest mage of this generation. “Thank you, I know you would have Cerelia. You know Maelor better than any of us, what would you suggest we do next?”Soren clears his throat and steps forward. “I believe there’s another matter that needs to be settled before we get to that. I acted as a traitor to the throne. I’m hoping my actions can be forgiven, but I will abide by any decision my king makes.”Arlo’s jaw clenches, but he finally shakes his head. “I don’t consider any of your actions to have been perpetrated by you. I know what it’s like to have your mind invaded by outside forces. You’re not pardoned, since there’s nothing
CereliaI can tell how hard Hilda is trying to make me feel at home and I wish she’d stop. This was all easier and less confusing when I could secretly resent her. Instead I’m finding out that she’s smart, nice, funny, a great fighter and not at all interested in my mate. I want to like her. She deserves to be liked. She was dealt a rough hand and came out the other side not only whole, but triumphantly, ecstatically happy.I still do everything in my power to avoid spending time with her. It’s taking a bit of time to gather the ingredients and objects I need and I request solitude for the casting. It’s not necessary, but I’m nervous enough that I’ll fail, I don’t want an audience watching it happen.Once I’m in the protective circle of salt, I sprinkle herbs into the copper basin filled with water, heating it to release the fragrances. Lavender for clarity, sage for guidance and rosemary for a clear mind. I surround myself with the crystals and candles, carefully placed in the corre
Arlo It’s a fantastic feeling to finally be able to get moving. I need to ensure the safety of my mate and all the packs who trust me to be their Alpha King. For the first time since taking over this position I’ll get to act solely on my own instincts.Hilda looks incredible in her tight warrior’s uniform and it’s very difficult not to get distracted. Especially when she looks up and finds me staring at her lustfully. Fire immediately kindles in her eyes and her mouth curves up as she drags her teeth over her lower lip seductively, giggling when I have to adjust my pants. She’ll be getting a most thorough hiding for that later.She walks over to me with a bit of extra sashay in her step, getting on her tiptoes in order to whisper into my ear, “You can tan my backside when we get back and then kiss it all better,” as if she can read the inside of my head. “Then we’d best hurry this along. I’m looking forward to peeling you out of these pants,” I growl back at her, heat spiking in my c
SorenThe relief when we finally get going is immense. I saw King Arlo and his Beta scrambling to swop out guards and I know exactly why. I’m not an idiot, I’ve noticed the way many of his pack members glare at me suspiciously.Given a choice, this is the last place in the world I’d choose to be. As luck would have it, the only place I intend to be is by Cerelia’s side and she’s determined to help them. She should help them, I just wish she could do it from the safety of our pack house, surrounded by my own men.King Arlo made it very clear that none of them are to come here, especially not Damon. Given his history with Hilda, I get that. And the presence of my own army would stretch the already thin tolerance of his people to breaking point.I’m not here to make trouble. I want to make amends, protect my Luna and then go home. Maybe start a family. Cerelia would be an incredible mother. She’s different since she found her magic. More ambitious and assertive. I still love her just the
HildaWe’re traveling at an easy pace, more focused on stealth than speed, in hopes that Maelor and his companions don’t know we’re coming for them. The thought that by tomorrow this could all be over is exhilarating. I want my honeymoon period with Arlo. Uninterrupted and without any concerns that pull us out of each other’s arms.It’s good to see Cerelia and Soren bonding. He’s different with her than he was with me. Much gentler. Of course I was an incredible brat who was always courting trouble, but it’s more than that. I don’t know if it’s possible for the magic of the mating bond to make mistakes. It shouldn’t be. Yet, as content and in love as we were once, we’re both far better matched and happier now.Soren and I loved one another deeply, but I don’t think we were ever truly, madly, deeply in love. We would have been at peace together if I was never wounded and left comatose. I prefer what I have now, which is ecstatic bliss. I’m sure Soren would agree with that sentiment.Af
Hilda We push forward and the fog disappears as suddenly as it came. The relief at being able to see barely sets in when an arrow comes flying out of nowhere, straight into Arlo’s chest. Blood immediately starts pouring from the wound, dripping in thick splotches to the ground, forming a puddle in seconds.No! No, Arlo, don’t you dare die on me, hang on. Take some of my life essence. We’ll get you out of here and to a healer, I tell him, desperately attempting to share my animus with him. It should be possible, but no matter how hard I push, nothing happens.He sways on his feet, then falls heavily to his side, sending up a flurry of leaves as his large body hits the forest floor. I’m howling in agony, calling the others to us, but they’re nowhere to be seen. It’s just me and Arlo in the half-light of the forest and his eyes are starting to dim.I can’t. This can’t be happening to me again. I won’t survive this loss. Please Arlo, I beg again, but his eyes are wide open and blank. He’
HildaI’m not sure how close we are to Maelor and the other mages. Cerelia assured us they were all in the same area and I suspect it’s taking their combined power to send the illusions. If he was able to do this over a substantial distance, he would have tried to stop us earlier, or lure me to him when I was alone.The thought terrifies me. If Arlo hadn’t been here to stop me, I’d have run straight back into whatever trap Maelor had waiting. More proof that Arlo and I are stronger together. Hopefully strong enough to defeat a cabal of mages.I wonder whether Maelor figured out yet how I got away from him. The wards must have warned him that we’re on our way, but I’m sure he knew that we’d be coming for him sooner or later. Leaving them to continue plotting would be foolish and I trust he knows Arlo is no fool.We have to continue, Arlo says. Even if we can’t get to them, we have to give Cerelia and the others a fighting chance at freeing the women. He’s right. I have to ignore the tr
CereliaSoren’s true to his word, he doesn’t leave my side for a second and I’m very grateful. I know the others here have their doubts about me. I’m finding it difficult enough to reconcile being a mage and a werewolf, how can I expect them to simply accept it?The pull to the source of power is still strong and Soren and I take the lead, with Percy flanking my other side. “You’re sure we’re still on the right path?” he asks carefully as we’re struggling through a thicket of underbrush.Soren tenses next to me, ready to defend my honor from this perceived slight. “Yes, I can feel them and this is the most direct route, if not exactly the easiest to travel.” Percy smiles at me comfortingly, “As long as we find them, that’s all that matters.”“It would be easier if we could just travel as wolves, but my powers don’t seem to work when I change,” I continue apologetically. “That doesn’t matter,” Soren interjects forcefully. “You’re the only one who can find the women, you’re not inconven
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