*Isla*I’m not sure if my eyes are open or shut. I don’t know if the tapestry above the bed–the rich fabric woven with florals amongst a blanket of stars–is actually what I’m seeing, or if I’m now laying outside, looking up into the endless, moonless night. I don’t feel the maids clutching my arms. I don’t feel the cool rag Poppy has draped over my forehead. I don’t feel Maddox’s large, calloused hand retreat from my bare, heated thigh. I just feel myself slipping away with each ragged, forced breath. “The baby is stuck. It’s been hours.”“We need your decision, Alpha.”“There is a way, but it means losing the mother.”“You will need to choose.”“The prince–or the Luna?”Choose our son. Choose our son. Maddox, if you can hear me, choose our son!“Isla, please,” Poppy’s terrified voice breaks through the haze, and I feel her shaking hands cup my cheeks. I can’t tell who’s talking. I can’t differentiate the voices of my loved ones from the voices of several strangers. But I can fee
*Maddox*He looks like her. He has her blonde hair, even if it’s only a fine, silken dusting of it so far. I run my fingertips over his eyes, closed tight against the light flickering in the quiet corridor. They’re the same shape as her eyes, and I know as he starts to open them and see the world for the first time, they will eventually be the same heartbreaking blue as the mother he will never know. I will see Isla in him. I will see her everytime this unnamed boy looks into my eyes. I don’t know if that's a mercy from the Goddess, or a haunting reminder of every past wrong I’ve committed. I prayed and prayed to the Goddess as they cut my mate open to save the child I’d so desperately and selfishly wanted. I prayed she’d spare Isla, that she’d see past my sins and doubts and save the one thing that had ever truly mattered to me. Fuck my title. Fuck my territory. Save my mate. Save my mate. Save her. I didn’t take my eyes off Isla’s face the entire time. Mystica had given her some
Maddox’s eyes are even greener than normal in the soft clouds hovering over our heads in the unruly back garden. He stares at me, unblinking, his mouth slightly ajar as his brow furrows in confusion. “Did you hear me?” I say, taking a careful step towards him. Debris from the storm–broken branches and trellises ripped from the potted plants scattered everywhere–block my path as I lift my dress and gingerly close the distance between us. “You’re soaked! You’ll freeze–”My words are cut short as Maddox crushes me to his chest, his fingers curling and digging into my back. He trembles, his face pressed into my shoulder as he inhales deeply, then pushes me away. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but here I am, turning into a blubbering mess as my mate wraps his strong arms around me and nearly suffocates me with his strength. How can I even explain what happened? It’s practically impossible given that my memories of the birth of our son–our perfect, perfect son– are fragmented and
*Isla*Seth’s golden eyes linger on Isaac, his face void of expression. He gave us the expected spirited congratulations, of course, going on and on about the prince born during battle. But his eyes had given away his true feelings, even if I was the only one who noticed it. Trinity, on the other hand, lingers in the corner of Maddox’s office, pretending to be invested in the books on the shelves lining the far wall. What is going on with these two, and most importantly, why? “Seth,” Maddox says, looking up from the map he has sprawled out on his desk. “I need to speak to you privately.”Seth nods, his hands clasped behind his back as Maddox motions towards the door. I watch them walk out of the office from my perch in a leather armchair near the dormant fireplace, wondering what exactly Maddox is going to say to him. I know Maddox will tell me whatever excuses Seth gives him for his odd behavior. What’s worse is that I know Maddox will believe him. Seth is Maddox’s Beta, but Ma
*Isla*I didn’t crawl back into bed until well after dinner, which was nothing more than whatever stew was leftover from the massive meals the kitchen had been cranking out all day for the warriors currently taking up the lower part of Maddox’s castle and the sweeping grounds inside the gate. It’d been chaos all day. First, I’d died in childbirth. Then, I’d come back to life. Then, I had barely a moment to wrap my head around the fact that I’d had a son before having to go track down my mate to tell him that I was, in fact, very much alive, and the diamond we thought would only restore peace to the hearts of the Alphas harbored secrets we didn’t have time to unravel. Now, I’m resting with my back against the headboard, Isaac’s tiny frame swaddled in my arms, his mouth slightly parted and dribbling with milk. Moonlight drifts through the windows, the curtains fluttering in a soft, humid breeze. Maddox said we’d rest together tonight, that we’d finally have a moment of peace in our h
*Maddox*Warriors still gather beyond the front gate to the castle. I watch as Vember commands them to open the gate, his eyes lined with fatigue. It’s been a long forty-eight hours, but here we are, one the other side, and I am still the Alpha King. My enemies have limped back to her respective territories with their tails between their legs. If I wasn’t leaving to return the diamond to the temple, I’d be calling on those traitorous Alphas to stand before me and accept whatever fate I feel is acceptable for their egregious crimes against me, my pack, and my home. But I can’t think about that now. I turn to look over my shoulder at the group standing on the front terrace, their bodies shadowed by the balconies on the second and third stories as they stand just out of the reach of the beaming morning sun. Isla stands in the center of the group, her hand laid flat on Isaac’s back as he rests against her shoulder. She is stone-faced, her hair braided and falling over one shoulder as s
*Isla*Poppy flutters around the sunny sitting room, moving from light filled window to window as she spins in a soft circle. Isaac is in her arms, and seems unphased by her attempts to get any type of reaction out of him. So far, at only three days old, he is a quiet, amiable baby. “He’s too young to really smile at you, Poppy,” I say from the floor where I’m sitting with my legs crossed. I look down at the paperwork littering the floor, my hand aching as I scribble my signature on something pertaining to a grocery order for the kitchen. I hadn’t realized how much went into being an Alpha, let alone an Alpha King. Nor had I realized how much I was going to have to do as the Luna of all Lunas. I place the signed paper on the pile of signed papers, which is sitting next to more piles of unsigned papers that doesn’t seem to be shrinking no matter how much time I spend on it. “This is madness,” I breathe, shaking my head as I look up at Poppy. “Is this all necessary?”“What do you
*Maddox*Hunter stands next to me at the river’s edge, the first inklings of morning light drifting lazily over the roiling water and the shadow land beyond. Dark clouds are gathering in the distance, and I try not to think of them as a dark omen to kick off our quest.I turn to see Trinity standing nearby, her eyes wide as she inspects the water, which is ripping past us at an impossible speed. Further down river is a rope–some type of woven line of metal stretching from one side of the river to the other, the side touching Hunter’s territory glinting in the sun as the first rays reflect off several carabiners meant to help ease us across. “Everything you own is going to be soaked,” Hunter says casually, glancing at the backpack I’m wearing. “You’re sure there isn’t another way across?”“Not at this time of year. Had you come three weeks earlier, you could’ve simply hopped from rock to rock to the other side.”I purse my lips and look back out over the icy, gray, white-capped rapid
MistyI flip a page in my journal, squinting at the terrible handwriting I’d scribbled down last night when I’d woken from my latest dream. I can’t comprehend what I’d been trying to say. Dark? Hurt? Silver? Those words look somewhat clear. I can’t even remember writing them down. I close the journal with a sigh and slip it back in my purse, hanging the bag over the back of my chair in the common room of my dormitory. It’s a massive building with a pitched roof, several towers, and spooky, darkened alcoves, but it’s home, and right now, I’m sure I’d be able to hear Georgia singing her heart out in the shower if the nagging, incessant voice in my head would shut up for a single, blissful second. I’ve come to the conclusion after two years of hearing what I can only describe as white noise and the occasional static screech, like I have a radio fixed inside my skull, that the voice isn’t my internal dialogue. No, that’s a separate entity in itself, and I’m constantly at odds with the u
MistyTwo white wolves in a clearing.Their bodies made of mist and aether, standing side by side.Mates. A marvel of second chances and extraordinary fate.Two white wolves turn toward the sunrise knowing what they must leave behind; what he sacrificed for those he loved and her refusal to let him go into death alone.Two white wolves stand over their earthly bodies. He, battered and still.She, going into death with eyes open, cupping her mate's face between her graceful hands, her eyes locked on his at the moment of her dying breath.Their last words had been simple. I love you.They always had.They’d promised this instance in stolen moments, in private corners, when there was nothing but the stars to light their way.I will not stay here without you.I will not leave you behind.And so, it was.Two
AvivaThe first flakes of snow fall from the sky as I watch Ryan trying to herd everyone in position. Bundled against the cold in a wool coat Freya and I worked tirelessly on for the last three weeks, I step to the side, finding myself in the center of the crowd standing in the middle of the village of Silverhide. I watch my mate and his Beta, James, nudge families together and run back and forth toward a tripod where Ryan’s camera rests, facing us, to gauge whether all one-hundred and fifty people are in view of the lens.Ryan stands behind the camera with his hands up, his hair dusted with snow. “Okay. Nobody move!”A few excited giggles whisper through the front of the crowd where the numerous children are arranged. I glance around, watching as James joins Dahlia’s side, their baby on her hip. The baby girl finally has a name. Cosette, named after a friend of Dahlia, but they call her Cossie for short. Other babies
Two months later…RyanThe Harvest Festival has been held at the festival grounds between Endova, Teshka, and Navvan for centuries. When we arrived two days ago, leaving only a few people behind in Silverhide to make sure the animals are tended to in our absence, the wide, open space had been nothing but rolling plains.Now, it’s a city of canvas tents and twinkling lights, the air spiced with smoke and the smells of meals being cooked at each fire. Songs mingle as I walk through the festival with Aviva on my arm. I’m wearing a normal outfit. Well, not normal, actually. Mom forced me into a suit and tie with the Crescent Falls royal banner and all of my metals from my years as a warrior draped over my shoulders. Aviva is wearing that white, fur-lined dress again and a pair of new sheep-skin boots Freya and Mercy made for her, but instead of freshwater clam shells and pearls decorating her hair, her curls are w
RyanAn hour earlier…I can’t scrub the image of Aviva dead in my arms out of my head. It’s been several days since the battle, since the moment I put her in my uncle's arms and turned back to the ravaged scene, not knowing whether or not she survived the journey all the way to Maatua.Three days. It was three entire days before Sydney arrived in Silverhide with news about my mate. I’d just arrived back at my territory, exhausted and in tatters, when he clapped a hand on my shoulder and used his powers to spirit us to Moonrise, then to Veiled Valley, then to Maatua. He’s not as strong as Ryatt. Jumping took a toll on us both, and when we finally arrived at my grandparents’ beach house, I collapsed before I even made it up their driveway.Everything since the battle is a blur. Navvan is just… gone. The few survivors were mostly women and children who’d left the villag
AvivaI wake with a start to bright, warm sunshine and the smell of salty air. I grope white sheets, blinking several times to clear my vision as an unfamiliar bedroom fades to life around me. Warm white walls. Pale wood finishes and sleek furniture in soft browns and creams. White curtains drift in a salty breeze coming through several open windows, and a glass door opens to a deck with a view of… a view of the ocean.I’ve never seen the ocean before. From where I lie, I can hear the waves crashing on a white sand beach. Music I don’t recognize drifts toward me, carrying two voices with it, one male, and one female.“Your parents worry about you endlessly, Misty.”“They have nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’m ten anymore, Grandpa. I can make my own way in the world now. Plus, where was their worry when they shipped me here four years ago, huh?”“You
RyanI’ve been dreaming about tying Aviva to my bed, but I’m going to make it a reality for entirely different reasons. Now, I’ll be tying her to keep her there, forever. No more hunting. No more fighting. No more killing rogues barefoot in the woods.No more putting herself in situations like this. I will do her dirty work. I will gladly do it. I roll with Hardan in his… hellhound form? Whatever the fuck he is now. I wish, Goddess, I wish I could have faced him man to man instead of beast to beast. I would have loved to see the look on his face when I ripped out his heart for even thinking for a second he had some kind of claim to my mate, even before I found her. We roll down a decline. I sink my talons into his belly, ripping hard, but I already know hellhounds aren’t that easy to kill. We crash into an oak tree. Leaves shower over us as he tries to claw free of my grasp. He’s calling out, bellowing strange, high-pitched howls. The forest floor rumbles as I sink my claws into hi
AvivaI’m having the time of my life.I zigzag through the woods in my wolf form after three rogues who’ve decided they want nothing to do with me. In fact, the rogues have stopped hunting me over the past several hours and instead are trying to get as far away from me as possible. Their prey has become their biggest predator.I did my best to lead the horde away from Endova. That was my goal–the reason I made the snap decision to leave my mate behind and race into the jaws of death itself. Now, I have the horde moving away from the tribal packlands all together, herding them back into the open plains like a shepherd, and they’re my sheep–if a shepherd killed their sheep, that is.I’ve lost count of how many there are. My red fur is completely black with their blood. I catch my reflection in another small, burbling creek as I leap, seeing only my eyes shining like polished amber against a
Ryan“She’s not here, Ryan,” Mercy hisses as I run through the village. She’s hot on my heels, grabbing my fur to try to pull me to a stop but I’m not in my right mind.It’s been five hours since I last saw Aviva. Andrew and I have been scouring the forest and plains for any sign of her, but I lost her scent, and my desperate attempts to mind-link with her have come up empty and silent.I shift into my human form the second I cross into the pack house and immediately crash into one of the tables, tripping over the bench and landing on my side with a crunch. I’ve been in my wolf form since last night. Exhaustion sings through my bones as my vision spins. I hear Andrew similarly falling to the ground with a choked groan before hurried footsteps reach the pack house. Someone throws a blanket over me with a scoff, followed by Mercy’s sharp, soprano voice ripping through the air as she starts s