MasukSydney
Snow covers the normally golden plains on the outskirts of Moorn, a small territory far outside of the city center. It took a full day to reach this place, this hovel between two hills where the distant border of Eastonia looms.
I don’t want to be here. The distance between Sarah and the damning truth between us is excruciating, damn near tearing me apart.
But I’m still an Alpha. Still a royal. And there are some things I just have to do.
The wind rushes through my fur as I wait beside my father, who’s also in his wolf form. We’re both large and dark brown with glints of gold throughout.
Night has fallen. I know we’re both exhausted. We traveled on foot without stopping for a break. Maybe he needed to run in his wolf as much as I did.
But still, tension makes my muscles lock. My mind is in shambles, and my heart is….
I’m devastated. I d
LexaI rise on my elbows and blink up at Kaleb. My vision goes spotty for several seconds before repairing itself, but my brain feels like a leaden weight. I’m not sure I’m actually here now, in this room, bracing myself over the side of Kaleb’s bed while my stomach pitches and rolls, the taste of magic heavy on my tongue. “B-Blake? Where did you hear–hear that name?” I’m going to vomit. I don’t think I can help it. My body lurches, and I end up on my knees on the ground before Kaleb can steady me. I close my eyes, the room spinning for several seconds before wobbling back to normal. He exhales sharply through gritted teeth, his hand warm and flat against my upper back. “Put your head between your knees and breathe.”“I feel like I’m on a boat.”“I’ve never been on a boat, but what you’re feeling right now is fae magic in your body. It takes a while to dispel itself.”“I’m going to be sick–”“Fight it,” he commands, and I adjust my position on the hard floorboards and do as he says.
KalebSilas has a private box in the arena that overlooks the grounds. I squint through the bright, unforgiving lights to the magical dome, watching rain pound the king’s shields. It had been a clear, hot night before this. The rain started only minutes ago, absolutely drenching Pantharas–a flood of epic proportions. Compared to the long-awaited rain that blessed the Glade recently, this feels more like a punishment. Silas paces, glancing at the arena, which is empty. “She should have come out by now. It’s been three hours.”“She’ll come,” I say, my voice booming through the alabaster room. Benches in shades of pale cream take up the majority of the space. I should be down near the grates, ready to run onto the sand to get her when she arrives, but I was barred entrance to the lower levels of the arena today. The king is playing games now. Lexa shouldn’t have made it past the beast trial, and now he blames me. Thunder crackles, booming over the arena. Lightning flares in strips over
LexaI slowly turn to Austin’s voice, opening my eyes to first my feet, then slowly look up at figures standing before me. Dozens of them. Faces I recognize. Eyes I know by heart, now milky and unseeing with death. My body’s paralyzed with fear when Austin parts the crowd. My regiment. Warriors I trained with since I was a girl. “Did you love me as I loved you?” he asks, his voice distorted, gravely. His golden hair is stained dark with blood, and his body is… ravaged, by violence and death. “You’re not real!” I shout, my chest tightening painfully. The warriors behind him fade into the darkness, but he remains. He steps toward me, reaching for me, and I feel the touch on my cheek. I scream, stumbling away from him. He smirks, sucking his teeth, looking me up and down, his gaze lingering on the mark on my neck, and then his gaze turns murderous. “You were mine!”“I wasn’t. Not ever. Not during the night we spent together, Austin, I would have known!”“You fucking whore,” he snarls
LexaNight falls on the Glade on the day of the second Trial, but the city is more alive than I’ve ever seen it. Kaleb walks steadily a few feet behind me, giving room for the pack to move out of their homes to watch me pass. It’s a procession, something sacred, I realize, as we walk further from the main gate that leads into the fae city beyond and closer to the solid gate to the lands none of these people have ever been allowed to even see. Avery has been beyond the gate for the rare hunts that take place when food is so scarce Kaleb is forced to grovel at the king’s feet. It’s a game to the king–dangling their wolf powers in front of them, keeping them hungry and desperate. It’s all I can think about when we travel into the wide pit, where houses lean at odd angles and the stench of smoke from thousands of funeral pyres burned over the years clings to everything in sight. But there is the gate to the outside world–to freedom I can taste it on the tip of my tongue as the wide, anc
LexaKaleb’s hand rests on my lower back as the guards move from the gate to the Glade. The small door cut within the metal of the ancient gate that towers so high I have to crane my neck to look up at the top of the wall gives way, and instead of constant shuffle, thunder of hammers and whining of saws, the Glade is… silent. I’m used to people looking at me now–stopping what they’re doing to turn in my direction, to follow me with their eyes. I’m not prepared for the bows. The bobbing of heads. The quiet, suffocating awe. Kaleb’s fingers curl into a fist at the base of my spine, but I move with him like this is just another day, another day we’ll spend in the sparring ring together when things were easy between us. When none of this had happened yet. People gather in doorways or peek through open windows. Children stop their games to watch us pass. I look everyone in the eyes, questioning the curious glances–the uncertainty. But they keep bowing. To Kaleb, of course. Tension ris
ArisMaddy and Isaac’s home in Maatua is shockingly cozy in comparison to the castles and palaces each side of the family calls home. Myself included, seeing as I still haunt the ancestral, gloomy castle older than the dawn of time itself in Veiled Valley. Here, in Maatua, it’s nothing but wide, open skies and the softest turquoise water, with sand like butter, so light it falls like snow through my fingers while I watch the tide roll in. A dark-haired, violet eyed little girl kneels a few feet from the tide line, dutifully dusting sand from a massive clam shell Kieran gave her, while my three-year-old nephew is a few yards away, squealing against the gentle waves lapping his toes while he hunts for more shells. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here with them–Skye, Kieran, and Fallon, who’s currently seated in my lap, double chins and chubby cheeks rosy as she watches the bigger kids play. An hour, maybe? Maybe more? The private beach stretches as far as the eye can see. No one







