LOGINSydney
Blake babbles the entire late evening drive to Silverhide. He likes rock music, especially when it’s loud enough to send a tremor through the truck, and squeals with delight everytime I go over a bump or a corner too sharply.
Sarah would kill me if she knew how loud the music was or how reckless I’m driving, but Blake notoriously hates his carseat, and he’s having the time of his life right now.
I can’t lie. I really enjo
FallonMaebelle Yarrows, the daughter of Alpha Yarrows of Diamond Ridge in Veiled Valley, stirs her bland, unsugared tea until it spills over the rim of the delicate, pale floral pink teacup I find myself slightly territorial over. It’s my favorite set, and her spoon clinking against the fine porcelain has my left eye twitching against my will, but I have a duty, and that duty is playing nice with fellow princesses, even if they’re grossly beneath my station and absolutely ridiculous, like Maebelle.She’s beautiful in a Veiled Valley sort of way–ethereally rustic. Her red hair is braided intricately through a tiara of gold and emerald that matches her gown and robe of green silk. She looks like a flower plucked from a mountain ridge.Her golden eyes are fixed to a shadow in the corner of the room, oblivious to everything else. A six-foot-six, two-hundred-and-fifty pound shadow that continues to haunt my every move, despite my gallant efforts to lead him astray.Maebelle blushes deeply
Book 19: Witch of the AlphaZayn“Good morning, Zayn.”“General Zayn. You look well.”“Zayn! Good morning! Have you eaten yet? There’s still breakfast left in the dining hall.”“General. Commander Abel has called a meeting at noon. I’m not sure you knew. Actually, I doubt you’re required to go based on your current post. Disregard–”“Zayn, how is your mother? Is she still at the temple?”Zayn. Zayn. Zayn.Early mornings in lower levels of the palace are always a rush of conversation and activity. It’s such a contrast to the quiet of the city beyond the palace walls, still asleep under a blanket of starlight and a cool, swift breeze drifting off the lake. Steam rises like plumes of mist around my shoulders while I sidestep through the main kitchen, carrying a crate the delivery boy forgot to bring in, dodging hands outstretched in good morning salutations–all the usual greetings.The spiderweb of servant hallways is just as crowded. Maids dart back and forth, carrying bundles of laundr
FallonThe humid weight of mid-summer beats down on my brow as I move through the garden, frowning at the twenty-foot wall shielding my view of the city of Moonrise–and the public's view of me. I crouch to pull a few weeds from the base of the hedgerow and dust my fingertips on the apron I stole off a hook in the servants’ hall just off the garden, twisting the rough fabric between my fingertips. I rise and move on to the thickets of mustard greens, ignoring the tomatoes because their leaves make my fingers green and itchy, and all the while, a tall, aggravating, annoying, pointless shadow follows my progress. I look up at the guard in royal garb–which includes a helmet and mask of iron–something I suppose was designed to look menacing, and it sure does. Sunlight glints off braids of iron and onyx covering his nose and mouth. His eyes are pools of the deepest black, even in direct light. His chest and arm guards are no different and likely weigh over a hundred pounds. I guess that’s
AlexToby braces his hands on either side of the bundle of blue fabric on my bed, tilting his head and squinting at the little fist reaching through the folds of a baby blanket. “Was he born with fangs?” He reaches like he’s about to stick his filthy fingers in my son’s mouth. I swat his hand away. “No, of course not. He’s a baby.”“Babies can have teeth. Don’t–don’t look at me like that, Alex. They can. Look it up. It’s rather terrifying.”Lucan starts to whimper, flailing until he loosens the blanket. Toby winces and backs away, allowing me to scoop Luc up and tuck him in my arm, giving my friend a better view of the newborn who was born only two weeks ago. “Wow. He looks like Skye.”“He does, doesn’t he? That’s exactly what I thought when I saw him for the first time.” Actually, I was thinking a million things during a horrific twelve-hour labor that Skye breezed through while I crumbled, her face set in silent determination. I’ve truly never met another woman like her. Once she
SkyeFive months later…My office at the University of Moonrise is in a spire overlooking the back half of the sprawling, ancient city of gold and the lake, which shines a deep turquoise in the mid-summer sun. I juggle several books as I move like a snail up another spiraling staircase, pausing several times to catch my breath and wave away the curious, concerned looks and pleas to help that my fellows throw in my direction. I’m due at the end of the week, and while joining the university as a fellow and researcher with plans to start lecturing again next year has been the best kind of distraction, this pregnancy has been awful, and I am so ready to be done. It’s been a marathon, and I’m not a runner by any means. Lately, I've been desperate to shift, but I’m too far along to risk that now. So, I walk around the lake. I hike up and down the staircases in the palace, where I’ve recently taken a suite at Kenna’s urging because, according to her, I could give birth any day, and it feels
SkyeTwo more weeks pass in a blur. At first, it seemed like a hundred years. I was constantly poked and prodded and wasn’t deemed healed enough naturally to have Misty and Kenna step back in with their magic, but finally, the morning came when I managed to swallow without pain, and the rush to heal me completely returned with fervor. Misty arrived, working her magic, sewing me together from the inside out. Kenna managed the baby, keeping whoever this tiny person growing inside of me is safe, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The worst thing about this recovery was the sharp and violent return of my pregnancy symptoms. I traded being bedridden with a catastrophic injury for being bedridden with nausea so severe that I lost ten pounds in a matter of days. Alex was amazing through all of it, but I know conversations were being had in the background about the ability of me returning to Lunaria, because right now, it doesn’t seem like an option. And, this morning, the option to return
*Isla*The howling is getting closer. Panic wells up inside of me. I don’t even have a weapon. Antony begins to strip, preparing to shift. We are all in trouble.“Fuck,” Poppy mutters, turning away from him. The next thing I know, she’s disappearing into the nearby trees.“Poppy? What are you doing?” I
*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
*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 n
*Maddox*The sun is coming up as I sit outside of a makeshift tent near Isla’s Aunt Mary’s house—if one can even call it a house. It’s an old cabin that’s sort of falling over. The other wolves with me have volunteered to fix it up for her in exchange for her defeating the witch who was trying to kil







