*Maddy*I follow Isaac through the castle. It’s busier than usual–maids fluttering about and weaving in and out of random doors–but Isaac is hyper-focused on something, and I have to refrain from pulling him to a stop to ask where exactly he’s taking me. When he pulls me into his bedroom, I freeze, my heart coming to an abrupt stop. “Why are we–”“Here,” he says with a boyish gleam in his eyes, tossing me a sweater to wear over my sleeveless dress. “I would have taken you to your own room to change, but I didn’t want to get interrupted by Hannah or anyone else.”I gingerly pull my arms through the soft, baby blue material. It’s cashmere, I can tell. My father used to have a sweater just like this one and wore it when the weather had even the slightest hint of a bite in the air. The sweater hangs nearly to my sides but the warmth penetrates my skin within seconds. And seconds is all I have because Isaac clasps his hand around mine and yanks me toward the door, and we’re off at the sp
*Maddy*I had enough time to go back to my room to change, but once I got there, I was a little lost. Standing in front of the closet looking into the darkened depths which Hannah had filled with clothing in exactly my size, ranging from soft linen and silk lounge wear to the most incredible gowns and dresses I’ve ever seen in my life, I take several minutes to contemplate, wondering what to wear to a family dinner with the royal family. For whatever reason, wearing a gown tonight feels too formal. Much, much too formal. With a sigh, I settle for tailored black slacks and a dark blue cashmere sweater. I pull my hair back into a long ponytail, pinning it away from my face. A smidge of makeup completes the look. I don’t have jewelry. I haven’t ever really worn it. This will have to do.I give myself one last look in the mirror over my vanity and see, for the first time, myself. Not a lowly slave. Not a maid. Not a severely underfed and overworked orphan resigned to a life of lonelines
*Maddy*I’m not sure what else there is to say between us right now. Everything seems to have been set into motion already–our marriage, his departure to war, the fact I’m being left here to act like a Luna when only weeks ago I was scrubbing floors. Any residual feelings from our intimate moment in the astronomy tower had vanished during the tense family meeting in the sitting room after dinner. The tension in the family is thick, and I feel like I’m in the middle of it. I follow Isaac to his office through the surprisingly quiet house. There are so many people here tucked in the bedrooms and suites, but it feels like we're totally and utterly alone. As he closes his office door behind me, and motions for me to sit on the red leather sofa in front of his desk, I fight the urge to immediately ask the questions burning little holes in my mind. He leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest, looking withdrawn and exhausted. “I’m sorry to have dragged you into all of t
*Isaac*I pick her up in one swift motion, clutching her body to my chest. I’m not doing this on the couch in my office like she’s someone I brought home after a rowdy night at one of the bars downtown, no. This woman is going to be my wife in a few days. She’s different. She means much more to me that I’m even willing to admit. Unlooking the office door, I quickly move through the second floor of the house. “Isaac,” she pants, gripping my shoulders. “I can walk–”I turn a shadowed corner and walk down the hallway that leads to my room–soon to be our chambers. The full bedroom suit and adjoining sitting room. I do my best not to kick down the door in my haste to get inside, driven mad by the feel of her in my arms. Her scent is everything I love and everything I find hard to explain. Like a fresh, clean spring day mingled with a warmth that reminds me of sitting by a fire with a drink in hand after being outside in the cold for hours. Her touch sends ripples of heat through me tha
*Maddy*I might be dreaming. The distant echoes of a scream flicker through the room. I look down at the moonlight dusted arm of Isaac, who is still holding me against his chest as he sleeps. He doesn’t wake to the sound, and it’s gone in an instant, replaced by total silence. But every fine hair on my body is standing on end. Something isn’t right. I feel it deep in my bones but second guess myself. Isaac would have woken up if the scream had been real, right? I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Our scents mingle. The bed smells like us, together. Everything is right in the world right now. Nothing but this moment matters. At least, I tell myself that, because internally I’m on the verge of losing my Goddess damned mind at the idea that there’s a ghost walking the walls and screaming at the top of his or her lungs. When another ear piercing howl sends a tremor through the castle, I’m up out of bed, sprinting toward the door, naked as the day I was born. I look back at the bed. Is
*Isla*The Temple of the Moon Goddess rises above the city like a silver fortress, glinting in the soft spring sunlight. It’s a gorgeous day, not a single cloud in the sky. A warm breeze rustles the wildflowers that are just starting to bloom on the sloping green hills surrounding the temple. I stand with Madeline on the marble steps, looking out over the kingdom. Our kingdom, me, and my soon to be daughter-in-law, the future Luna. The heir to my title. Standing beside me with her hair pulled back away from her face and wearing a sleeveless shirt, I notice little scars along her shoulder and arms, and feel a sudden urge to reach out and touch her. Guilt washes over me as I take her in, the slightness of her body, the way her eyes always seem lined with grief–and suspicion. I don’t know all of what she’s been through, but I feel like it’s partly my fault. “She’s ready for you.” A temple attendant in a white and silver robe appears behind us. I turn to the woman, who is not even si
*Maddy*I hadn’t realized what changes had taken place in the city outside the castle since I first came to stay there. Even during my last trip into town to be fitted for a wedding dress with Ella, Rosie, and Hannah, there hadn’t been this many… people. Warriors, all of them. Some are so young they look barely old enough to be leaving their mothers, let alone going to war. Isla sits between me and Ella in the backseat of the car as we drive toward the castle through the city center. She holds our hands and stares blankly out at the window at the armies gathered in camps in what looks to be a stadium of some kind with a wide, grassy plain out front now covered in tents. Even Ella’s in shock, her eyes glued to the window and her mouth slightly parted. “There’s so many of them,” she whispers, turning to her mother. “Your father and brother have been busy the last few days,” Isla murmurs with a hint of annoyance, but her eyes betray her casual demeanor. “These warriors are from the ne
*Isaac*I’m skipping three steps at a time as I chase after Maddy. She’s remarkably fast for someone who’s doesn’t even have a wolf, which grates my nerves to the point I’m gritting my teeth and needing to grip the walls, the banisters, or side tables to keep my footing as her tiny feet kick up carpet runners in her haste to get away from me. “Why are you running?” I shout, but she disappears around another corner, her speed sending a whoosh of air in my direction that causes the paintings on the wall to rattle in their frames. This is insane. Me chasing her through the castle is insane. Her thinking my feelings for her don’t go farther than a business friendship-one reliant on occasionally closeness and intimacy–is particularly insane. “Maddy!”“Leave me alone!” she cries, her voice hollow and echoing down the chamber nearing her bedroom. Her tone gives me pause, and I come to a screeching stop, my sneakers squealing on the freshly waxed tile. Her room is at the very end of a long h
LoganCaptain Louis watches me as I lean against the wall in the cockpit, looking through the manifest I picked up from the port master. I scan the document, memorizing every ship scheduled to leave the port tonight along with this yacht. The captain chuckles, turning back to the helm where he sits and begins pushing buttons that light up his control station. The second officer, Charlie, arrives, saying, “The crew’s been briefed. We’re just waiting for the green light from the port master.”“I doubt we’ll be moving anytime soon in this fog. It’ll be a long night.” Louis swivels back to me, arching a brow. “Commander Evander said you have some naval experience.”I look up from the manifest. “A bit.”“I was told you served for a few years under the Alpha King of Oasia in Serpentia, captaining a naval cruiser along their coast.”I run my tongue along my lower lip and tuck the manifest under my arm. “That’s correct.”Louis smirks, shaking his head as he turns to the controls again. “A ma
BrieI’m not sure if I’m experiencing sea sickness for the first time or if this horrible ache in my stomach is from the mutual rejection I just experienced. I should have been more prepared for this feeling, actually. I curse at myself while settled on a plastic bench, watching the startling green valley on either side of the wide river sprint by. Smaller towns and villages hug the river bank, everything nestled under the umbrella of control of Veiled Valley, forever protected by my family. One day, Aris will rule all of this. He’s the new Shadowsyner of the family–the one with those creepy shadow powers passed down by my grandfather, Ryatt, and my mother. I look down at my normal, powerless hands and curl them into fists, closing my eyes against the rolling nausea threatening to pull me to my hands and knees. I didn’t eat breakfast. I didn’t have the stomach for it, knowing I’d be thrust into a week-long journey with Logan, my mate. Not anymore. I slouch on the bench, leaning my
BrieI like to think I’m a faithful believer in the Moon Goddess. I never skip church. I celebrate Her holidays, say Her prayers, and dedicated at least ten years of my schooling to Her lore and scripture. I squint at the sky through my window in the tower, frowning at the moon. She’s up there laughing at me, isn’t She? Is She entertained by my predicament? The mate bond She ordained to ruin my plans? I sink onto the bench under the window and rest my arms on the windowsill, watching the clear, brilliant night sky slowly rotate over Veiled Valley. The buildings and bridges glisten in the moonlight, but across the lush, green valley, lights twinkle against a sea of emerald. The Fortress, as my siblings and I have called it since we got a grasp on vocal vocabulary, is nothing more than a big, square, gray block built out of the far mountainside. I’m sure it was a foreboding, albeit lovely, sight to look at way back in the day, millennia ago, when it was built, but now I’m glaring at
LoganI stare down at the words covering a single piece of pure-white paper. It’s my evening ritual these days, especially when I’m closeted away in this room, in these barracks, instead of in a tent or curled up in a ball in my wolf form somewhere in the rural Roguelands or desert of Tarsian. I glance at the two other letters beside the paper, both neatly folded, Lexa and Nora’s names written clearly, cleanly, just like Aviva expects. She taught me how to read and write in the language of Eastonia and Crescent Falls. She was strict about it, forcing me to spend hours working on my penmanship, drilling the translations into my skull until I began to think and even dream in the language of my new home. Even at nearly thirty, I still feel an obligation to check my work, to ensure the letters I send back to Silverhide are flawless, because Aviva still cares. She’s always cared about me. I’ve failed her in so many ways. I fold up the letter I intend to send out through the post to Si
BrieI can’t get out of this gown fast enough. I lean against the door of my bedroom to close it, praying the butter-white walls give me some sense of peace, but my heart is absolutely racing. I rip at my bodice, cursing under my breath as the satin fabric snags and squeals instead of just–of just coming off. I can’t breathe. I can’t force a breath past the painful squeezing sensation echoing through my lungs. I gasp, tugging at the fabric until the bodice finally gives way. I grip my knees, gulping down air. The room spins for several more seconds before slowing, but I feel…Totally, completely overcome. “This isn’t happening,” I rasp, rising up and leaning my weight against the door. “This isn’t happening.” I close my eyes against the view of the mountains peeking through the white curtains currently dancing in the warm breeze. Only when I find it easier to breathe do I move from the door, stepping out of my dress until I’m in nothing but the tight shapewear I stuffed myself in
Brie“He can’t be that bad, Brie,” Maeve hisses as she clutches the crook of my arm, leading us down one of the winding staircases in our castle in Veiled Valley. Sconces flare to life on their own accord, lighting our way. “Mom said he’s been dying to meet you, anyway. He’s a warrior, you know. They’re always so handsome.”I purse my lips as she tightens her grip. “You’re entertained at my expense.”“You don’t get to complain. You’re doing this to yourself!” Maeve throws her head back in a beautiful laugh that echoes down the corridor. Everything my little sister does is beautiful because she’s stunning. Beautiful of the drop-dead gorgeous variety. She’s also only eighteen, and I doubt she fully grasps what this meeting with the Alpha of Rainway, a nearby pack in the mountains bordering Veiled Valley, and his warrior son means.Mom and
Kenna“Stay close, okay?” I shout as the girls hurry ahead of me through the woven, interlocking streets of Moonrise. It’s insane how much things have changed in the last decade. I tuck my phone in my purse; change number one. Yes, Eastonia has cell-phone service after decades of back and forth, but we’ve finally come out of the stone-age and into modernity, which includes change number two. Brie yanks Maeve out of the way when a car comes barreling down the street, bumping over the cobblestone road. I lift a hand, waving at the careless driver. This area of the city is supposed to be pedestrian only, but not everyone follows the rules. “Mom, we’re going to be late!” Brie scolds, gripping Maeve’s forearm. “Quit dragging your feet! You’re going to scuff your shoes!”“Then I’ll get new ones,” eleven-year-old Maeve grins, rolling her sea-green eyes. The castle rises above us as the girls bicker back and forth. Brie, fifteen and so beautiful it hurts to look at her sometimes, throws me
Sarah“It isn’t that serious,” I tell Blake and Liam as they blink at me, their faces dappled with mud and their knees stained with grass. “But I’ve had enough of the fighting. You’re too old for this, especially you, Blake.” I fix my oldest son with a look I’ve had fourteen years to perfect.Blake, now a teenager, purses his lips and frowns. “He’s been harassing me all day–”“You were supposed to be helping me clean the garage,” Liam, thirteen, bites out. I feel the tension beginning to boil between them and clear my throat. “Both of you, enough.”“Mom–”“You’re both already grounded,” I edge, crossing my arms under my chest and arching a brow. “Do I need to add another week to your sentences? Or are you ready to behave like good little wolves and finish the chores Cosette laid out for you?”Liam grumbles under his breath. Blake mimics my stance, crossing his arms. We’re eye level at this point, and Liam isn’t far behind in the height department. Still, Ella and Maddy taught me thei
Aviva“Line up,” I whisper against ten-year-old Lexa’s ear. “Breathe in… release.” An arrow splits the cool spring air in two. A soft squeak whispers toward us as a squirrel falls from its perch on a nearby cottonwood tree. I squeeze her waist in silent congratulations while she beams, her dark-blue eyes wide and round. “Good job.” I grin, giving her a pat on the back. “Go get it.”Lexa takes off in a blur of red curls and homespun textiles in soft creams and browns that match the melting snow. In the distance, over the shadowed mountains, plumes of gray smoke stretch toward the first inklings of the sunset. Lexa bounds back to me, squirrel in hand. I tie it to her belt and help her put her bow back in her halter while seven-year-old Nora puts the finishing touches on the snowman she’s been building for the last hour.“Nora, come on!” Lexa calls out, motioning for her little sister to hurry up, but Nora has never listened to anyone in her life. I smile as the girls start to bicker b