*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
*Maddy*I stand on the steps leading to the tower watching Isla as she hovers in the doorway. Past her, I she Ella’s shadow moving through her art studio, the sounds of paint being poured and brushes scraping against the ceramic jars she keeps them in. It’s almost dawn. The sky through the narrow windows is dreary and gray, and the scent of rain is heavy in the air. There will be no sun today. Or additional sleep, apparently, especially for Ella. I slowly ascend the stairs to stand in silence with Isla. Ella stands, her arm flying as she coats a canvas a foot taller than her with black paint. I find it momentarily hard to swallow as the black paint swirls like it has a mind of its own, drawing me in. “Come with me,” Isla whispers. She gently touches my elbow and turns toward the stairs. I glance back at Ella once more before following her. The house is quiet as we walk through the darkened hallways. Isla shows me into her room and closes the door behind us. She switches on the li
*Maddy*Cassian is in pieces. That’s the only way I can describe him. His chest is flayed open, the bandages holding him together are soaked through with blood. Isla’s magic isn’t working fast enough. She’s leaning over him, her face stained with fresh tears as she pours a fourth vial of that precious liquid onto his dry and cracked lips. I watch in awe as the slices covering his legs slowly, miraculously, knit themselves together. “Get her out of here,” Trinity says somewhere behind me, where a frantic Hannah is having a panic attack. I feel someone–likely Rosie–come up behind me, her shoulder brushing against my back as she forces Hannah from the room. My heart is lodged in my throat as I count every breath Cassian struggles to take. My eyes slide to the place where his right arm should be, and I force them closed. He’s going to die. I can feel it. But I know he’s in better shape than some of the warriors who have returned, their tarnished bodies having filled the hospital in a
*Maddy*Wind whispers over us. Little flakes of silver ice bite into my cheeks despite the fact that it’s summer. Nothing here feels right. The long dead grass sways in a vicious breeze, the air so chilled it stings. The sky is pitch black and moonless, like the night came and refused to ease its grip on the world. There’s magic in the air, and not the good kind. The scent of death reaches my nose and causes me to shudder. Ella watches me, her eyes nearly black in the darkness. She pulls the tiniest bag I’ve ever seen out of her pocket, something so small she can hold it in the palm of her hand, and sets it on the ground at her feet. She starts removing her clothes. “Undress, Maddy. We need to get going. We’re not alone out here.”As if in answer, howling reaches us on the wind. I bristle and start unclasping my belt. What will we do with our clothes? Carry them in our mouths? I halt my progress, my shirt pulled up over my belly, as I watch reach down to stuff her boots into the im
*Isaac*Blood drips down from my temple where a gash runs from my forehead to my chin, right over the bridge of my nose. It’s not healing with the usual speed my powers award me. I’m not like my mother. I can’t heal others. But my body rapidly heals itself…. At least, it should have by now. The young warrior, Emmet, one of the six survivors I found after the battle in the plains, crouches beside me while we watch an enemy encampment from a large, jagged rock on the base of the mountains. Both of us are drenched in blood–most of it belonging to others–and sweat, filth, and dirt from the forest. It’s impossible to keep track of time when the whole forest is under a spell of pure darkness, but I’d guess we’d been out here for days now, watching, waiting to strike. Emmet, a boy of fifteen, had snuck out of his home and joined the cause illegally. Too young to shift, some would have thought he’d been helpless during the battle. But when I found him, he’d been wielding his great-grandfa
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