*Maddy*When I was a child, my father came home from one of his mysterious merchant trips with a large, fabric bound book. It was large enough to cover my entire lap, and so heavy I couldn’t lift it on my own. The cover was embroidered with whirls and swirls of silver and gold thread, the outer edges detailed with delicate symbols and lettering none of us could read. “It’s very old, Starling,” he’d said to me, laying the book carefully in my lap as I trembled with childlike excitement. “You must be extremely careful. You never know what kind of magic may be inside, and what gods we’ll upset if any pages are torn.” He’d said it in jest, of course. At least I thought so at the time. But he’d been right to be careful with the massive text. Inside were stories of a land lost to time, each page illustrated with great care and skill. Myths and legends of the old gods and goddesses and their trials, stories of their people, their subjects, their heroes and enemies. And their beasts. They
*Isaac*“You’ll burst through the seams if you keep moving like that,” Cassian says with a bite in his voice as he fastens my leathers–a vest and forearm guards–over my black shirt. Pins displaying my status as not only the Alpha King, but a warrior of the highest rank, are displayed over my heart. The outfit is what I’d wear if I were to meet with an enemy face to face. No royal jewels rest atop my head. No velvet cape lined with fur. No rings on my fingers. Just me in all preparedness to fight. “Your mom’s going to have a fit–”“She’s aware this is what I’m wearing,” I cut in gruffly, barely glancing at my reflection in the full length mirror in front of me as I reach down to take my jacket off a nearby chair. It’ll be the only wedding-like attire I’ll be wearing today, and it’s pitch black, just like my shirt and pants. I look more like a shadow than a groom, but so be it. This day doesn’t feel like anything to celebrate. I’m not the only one getting married in my fighting leath
*Maddy*I feel like a puppet as the temple attendants turn me this way and that way, the high priestess rambling off another long, blisteringly boring monologue. Isla stands beside me listening intently. Her eyes are sea glass in the golden light of the sunset now pouring through the temple windows. How long have we been here? Hours, at this point. I’d been swept away from the castle in the early hours of the morning and now the day is nearly over. The only day I had left with my now husband. I grind my teeth, waiting for this ceremony to be over. Apparentl,y it’s much more than Isla ever had to go through because it includes what the Priestess calls “the passing of the crown,” which hasn’t happened in decades. I glance at Isaac, who’s standing in wait on the other side of the room, flanked by Alphas from several territories. He’s watching the proceedings with interest, and a hint of sympathy. His mouth curves into a soft, almost smile, one meant just for me. Goddess, I just want
*Maddy*I didn’t mean to mark him. It was something inside me that overwhelmed all rational thought and momentarily blurred my ability to reason. Like some force had overpowered me completely and drove me to madness. I’m panting as he holds me against the tile wall, hot water streaming over us and mist lifting from the dark stone floor. I look down, trying to rein in my ragged breath and thundering heartbeat as I watch glitter swirl into the drain. “I’m sorry,” I whisper so softly I’m sure he can’t hear it over the spray of the water. But his mouth is trailing down my neck and over my shoulder, leaving hot kisses in his wake. I close my eyes, my heartbeat thumping madly in my ears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened. Isaac, I–”His hands grip my hips as he presses into me from behind, hard and fast. I yelp in surprise but the sound turns to a deep, cry of ecstasy that has my toes curling and head falling back. He holds me there, sheathed to the hilt, our bodies
*Isaac*Fogs wraps around the outer walls of the castle’s estate, my home, the home of my family, and now my wife. Despite early summer coming into full bloom, the air is chilled. Either that, or it’s just my skin prickling with icy heartbreak as I stand at the gate and look back at the front porch, where several women and children are standing, all of them dressed for bed in the early hours of the morning. Ben and Emery’s children rub their eyes and sniffle, swiping their tear stained cheeks against Trinity’s nightgown. I wonder about her and Rosie often. Trinity left Elijah, her mate and the Alpha of Moorn, behind over a week ago now to come here, seeking safety for herself and her daughter at his command. The grief of their separation has been written all over her face since she arrived at the castle under the guise of helping with wedding preparations. Does she wish she were there now, at the frontlines, with him? But she’s the Luna of that small territory, and Rosie is their o
*Maddy*Sunlight beats down on the back garden. It’s too beautiful a day. The sun is bright and warm, the sky totally cloudless, and every flower in Isla’s rose garden in bloom.Ella walks through the flowers, rubbing petals between her fingers. I watch her for several moments before I hear the clinking of glass behind me and turn my head to find Isla setting a tray of ice tea on one of the bistro tables. Her eyes are red and distant as she pours a glass for herself, drinking deeply. I haven’t seen her since the three of us left the sitting room. Ella took me outside to get some fresh air, leaving me alone with my thoughts while she walked alone with hers. And Isla had disappeared into the depths of the castle. “You were born here,” she says, looking down in her iced tea with a far off expression on her face. “In the very room you occupied until last night. I used to rock you to sleep. You were such a quiet baby. You barely ever made a sound. I wondered sometimes if you knew your mo
*Isaac*Four days earlier…Cassian crouches on the other side of the fire, balancing on his heels. His pen scribbles over the notepad resting on his knee. He pauses, cursing under his breath,and tears the page free before crumpling it and throwing it in the fire. “What the fuck am I even supposed to say?” he says to himself, growling low in his throat as he makes a single mark on the page before sinking into a seated position on the hard ground. Trees choked by moss, their branches long dead, surround us. Behind us, miles of open plains stretch all the way back to Moorn. It took us days to reach this place. Several dozen camps light up the edge of the forest. Wolves pass back and forth in groups of three or four, and small groups of warriors in their human forms gather around fires just like this one, eating, drinking, and resting. Or trying to put words down on paper to send back home. Phones don’t work this far from any settlement. “Just tell her you're alive,” I mumble, scrat
*Maddy*I spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening with Ella in her studio. She’s nearly finished with my official portrait, and it’s exquisite, so realistic it could be a photograph.As I pick through my dinner sometime later, I silently wonder if anyone captured any pictures of Isaac and I on our wedding day. I hadn’t even thought about it before now, and my chest tightens with the sudden realization that we might not have anything that shows us together but a silly piece of paper with our signatures on it proving we’ve wed. Dinners at the castle lately have been quiet and tense. Emery and Ben’s children are the only reason any of us haven’t succumbed to total numbness waiting for news from the front lines. Isla is getting especially fidgety lately. She wants to go to Maddox, that’s clear, and I know she eventually will. How would she feel about me going, too? I shake the thought from my mind as I leave the table and excuse myself, feigning a headache, ready to spend the