The split second Sawyer, he relaxed his hold, felt like a freefall. He gave me the go-ahead, but the fear Sawyer would never be able to see past the mistakes I’ve made was briefly terrifying. My heart raced, meaning I knocked on the door way too hard. Wilf, the grizzled guard, scowled miserably at re-opening. “Cloak each, now,” he snapped. I ran to the cupboard and grabbed two dark navy blue raiding hoods. Heavy fabric, made for winter, I almost fell over them running back. Sawyer had tried to talk but had his question dismissed. "I don’t have time for this shit. Just follow me. Or get murdered in a few hours in this fight. Whatever you want.” We followed. Back into the throne room. The sound of guards chattering outside the same doors Sawyer burst through was dangerously loud. I hugged the navy cloak to my chest a few paces behind, my adrenalin racing too fast to form words. We pass the silver and gold monstrous throne. The same bit of furniture Heath had silently draped
Our manner-mannered hostage interrupted Sawyers brooding. “Check the glove box Miss, think you’re going to need it.” I shriek at a set of wolfsbane syringes and dart guns. I dare not even touch them. Feared by all shifters and only used by the worst traitors. “Kills a mutt but doesn’t half bring a man to his knees too.” “We're not mutts,” Sawyer growls before he takes the gun and l oads it. There is a moment of tension that seizes our small truck. “Thank you,” passing the silver goblet into his still-tied hands. “I’ll cut you free when we get who we are looking for.” “You’ll want the blade in the side door then,” he grunts. Almost annoyed he’s having to prepare us out of his own goods. Evening beckons the time we arrive. Enchor prison is well outside the town, looking out over the foaming sea, doubling as a lighthouse from its mossy, clifftop location. We quietly watch the man in the tower preparing the beam. The fast-paced wind resembles the screams of terrified women. Thi
I felt Phoebe’s fear rise at the sight of Cillian. I saw a chance. Our opportunity to finally put things right. I just need him to listen to me instead of immediately heading to decapitation. His wolf's eyes were entirely golden, burning anger at the forefront of his intent. Cillian didn't even attempt diplomacy. No Shadowland envoys to King Heath, not even a personal visit to Bridgend to ask if there was truth in any rumours. He’s ended up straight here, shifted into wolf form, and shredded his way through at least twenty human men. What if this isn't the first prison he's tried? What will be the fallout from the Alpha's desperation? I couldn’t get Matilda’s cell unlocked in time. The heavy collection of black and silver keys was impossible to gauge. With the gag still in her mouth, Matilda wasn’t coming to our aid anytime soon. Plus, I know how it feels to be obliterated by wolfsbane. Sluggish, dopey. She might not even believe this is even real if they’ve really pum
Clutching his silver goblet, our nameless, very-well rested hostage was almost chirpy, insisting he had a brother in law in the next town he could call on for a ride. But Sawyer shook his head when the time came to abandon him in the dark. “No…no it’s not right to take this. Can you drop us at the border? Keep the truck.” “From here, your nearest pack is Rising Star?” “That works just fine,” Sawyer replied. Walking through the night, keeping away from the towns and villages, Sawyer found us fresh water to drink, before killing and cooking a fish over a small fire. I’m probably endlessly naive, but to me, it was a perfect night. Because finally, there was not a single obstruction to just being with Sawyer. The man who patiently explained how you can catch a fish bare-handed. Explaining why he purposely ignored one section of the river, walking another mile upstream. I said nothing when he stripped to his underwear to stand in the shallows. I whooped and laughed instead when
Nikolai explained, in a much more brutal and dickish way than was necessary, that we only got one night's stay at White Forest Castle. After all, he has sworn to help Alpha Cillian and Zeke, the pair of them bound in a trio of voting and veto. I don't care. We have each other right now. Every day seems to be swinging us to the extremes, and now we are just waiting for the biggest and hopefully final one to go our way. “I think we need to switch our brains off for a while,” Phoebe sighed, our brown dust-covered bodies flopping onto the bed of our small little room. “I can’t keep thinking about next week. It will drive me insane.” “Cillian could just exile us. Or maybe be so taken up in making Heath pay that we are nothing to him. Matilda will have an influence.” “I killed my mother and put him, Naomi and Finn into a trance. I stole a child…” “Not you. Your fucking wolf. You were just the vessel,” I sigh, too weary to go round the grisly roulette wheel. Phoebe rolls herself
The truck ride certainly gave me time to think. For one, I am eternally grateful Huli was no longer with me. I don’t miss having a wolf. The agony she would have been putting me through had she still held residence in my consciousness made me instinctively reach for my wrist. The only sign of that former life, one that could be years ago instead of just a few months, is a faint, grey scar on my wrist. It used to be so red and angry. Now, it has settled down to almost nothing. Genevieve picked up on it whilst she came to say goodbye. “I know you’re scared.” “I am. But only because it’s what I deserve.” “Well, if it helps, Nikolai and I are attending this meeting too. Cillian has asked for Rising Star as well.” "Oh." That absolutely does not help in any way. It only means Matilda will have even less influence. It makes me think Cillian is preparing to make an example of me. Genevieve has been kind enough to lend me a cornflower blue and white gown. Its swirling blue remi
My mouth drops open, but there is nothing to say. Nikolai doesn’t suffer the same issue. “Now just fuck off a minute-” but Cillian doesn’t even flinch. Zeke and Freya step forward, their eyes wide with surprise. "You haven't discussed this with us?" “Look, my father was never born an Alpha. He rose. He proved himself. Calm in danger, braver than any of his peers. Any Shadowlands Alpha should follow the same route. I haven't. I've made it this far by the skin of my teeth. So I want you all to endorse and support and give your backing to Finn. Alpha Finn Penkov and his Luna, Naomi Kharkov of the Shadowlands.” The only person to make a sound is Rami, who starts clapping wildly and shouting “KING FINN! King Finn and Prince Rami! Haha, I'm in charge!!” He doesn’t seem to realise everyone else is in complete shock. He’s just thrilled his favourite person in the world is getting a promotion. And by default, in his eyes anyway, himself. “Do you accept?” Cillian says, not really givin
*** 7 MONTHS LATER *** ALPHA FINN “Alpha!” That fake-serious, minx of a voice forces me to pause. Not ideal when halfway across the Jackson’s roof, retrieving Rami’s misplaced arrow. Again. Considering he is meant to be an archery prodigy, he seems to fire it up into that thatched cottage’s eaves with annoying regularity. “This is your fault, Luna!” I shout back, fully aware of her laughing from the packhouse. When she sends a bolt of seriously dirty thoughts across our bond, I almost put my foot into the chimney. Thankfully, Diane is with Beta Tucker again, straightening out his boredom-driven drinking via pure seduction. "IT WAS ME!” Rami adds with glee. Naomi innocently claims the practice targets Rami uses simply must face the Jackson’s cottage. I don’t argue. Not when my girl slinks around in dark bodysuits that leave my hands twitching to wrap around her waist. I have no arguments, only desires. Any argument she has formulating just vanishes away at the soun