*Ella*The healer is a very old, gnarled woman. She reminds me of Mystica based on the pictures Mom has scattered in her home in Maatua. The woman’s hair is bright white and wispy, and her shoulders are permenantly slumped. She barely comes up to my breasts as she hovers around Hannah, who is lying on a cot in the center of a very warm room heated by an ancient wood stove in one corner. I have to duck to walk deeper into the tight room. Bundles of herbs hang from the low ceiling. A kettle whistles on the stove as I kneel by Hannah’s bedside and take her hands in mine, finding them warm and soft. Her coloring is perfect, and she still has that smile on her face like she’s simply dreaming. “You can’t spirit through time and space all willy nilly,” the old woman croaks, her voice wobbly but calm and motherly as she pours hot water into a large, metal bowl full of herbs. “She’s split between two worlds. Here, and with her mate.”I look up at the woman, who has barely said a word to me a
*Maddy*I watch as Isaac leans over his desk to grab another stack of papers from a banker’s box on the far edge. He sighs as he flips through the papers and sets them down, reaching for a pair of manilla folders instead, and sits back down. I turn my head back to the window and watch the rain fall in dizzying sheets of silver, the entire back garden cast in shadow and glistening with dampness. My hand rests on the swell of my belly. Our son kicks me softly, and I smile to myself, tapping my fingers as if to say, “Hello, little one.”“Is he kicking again?” Isaac asks as he leans back in his office chair and places a large, warm hand on my stomach. I adjust the position of his hand and lay my hand over his, waiting. Our son is still so small, but his movements have become more noticeable the last few days. A featherlight movement brushes over Isaac’s hand. I watch my mate’s face as he feels his son kick for the first time. “That’s incredible,” he says, meeting my eyes. “Does it bothe
*Ella*I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no clue where we are, or what to expect when we reach the witches. In my defense, I jumped through the portal blind, unsure what awaited me on the other side beside my mate, who I’d be happy to never see again. I stare into the small warming fire and hug my knees to my chest. The thought of Ryatt causes an ache to spread through my chest, tightening my muscles. My mate. Some people go their whole lives without finding their mates. I should feel blessed that I've found him so soon. Right now, I feel like throwing myself off the bluff we’re sitting next too with a sweeping view of the valley below at our backs. Amanda and Gemma sit beside me facing the forest while their two friends, still in their wolf forms, doze next to the sled where Hannah still lingers in a coma. Amanda brought enough food to feed a small army, but even after not eating for an entire twenty-four hours, I can’t bring myself to take more than a few bites of a sandwich
*Ryatt* Don’t come for me. Those words haunt me as I pick through the forest. Six of my men–my closest, most trustworthy warriors–fan out around me in a wide semi-circle, leaving no stone, twig, or bush unturned. It’s been days, and there’s no sign of Ella. Nothing. Nothing of her, or the maid that flung herself at us right as I used the full force of my powers to spirit us away to Eastonia. Don’t come for me… “There’s nothing here, Ryatt,” Granger says nearby. He stands to his full height, his golden hair gleaming in the sunrise streaming through the tree top. Green eyes meet mine, heavy with annoyance. “Maybe this is a good thing.”“I know,” I agree, but the words leave a bitter taste on my tongue. I hadn’t wanted to do this. I’d bucked against my destiny at every turn. Going to King Isaac’s ball four or five years ago had only made me more steadfast in my decision that I had to find another way to defeat my father without using Princess Ella as the weapon she was born to be.
*Ella*I open my eyes, blinking into the eerie green light of the cramped room I was thrown into a few hours ago. The walls are made of stone and drip with condensation. I look up at the wooden ceiling where streaks of light filter down and cause the floor to dance with pockets of pale gray. The ceiling is a trap door; the room I’m in is an outdoor cellar. A set of slimy stairs lead up to the ceiling, the slime now covered with muddy footprints. There’s nothing down here but me. No chair, bed, bathroom bucket, or food. The bastards who dragged me here stripped me of the coat I’d been wearing, and the chilly fall air bites into my skin. My hands, bound by iron shackles behind my back, are numb from the cold. It’s raining now. Water has been dripping through the ceiling, but now rain pelts the wooden boards above my head so violently it rattles. I close my eyes and imagine my studio, my paintings, mentally going through stacks of canvases and my inventory of paint. I’m just trying to
*Ella*I shove Ryatt away from me, putting several feet of distance between us. I can still feel his touch on my chin from when he’d inspected the bruising on my cheeks. I realize with a start it had been only the second time we’d ever touched, the first being when I placed my hand in his hand when he’d come to take me home, to take me here. Now, I’ve shoved him. That’s the third time we’ve touched. Maybe, hopefully, the last. At least, I tell myself that. Seeing him in the flesh is incredibly unnerving. The sharp angles of his devastatingly handsome face draw me in, and those eyes? They’re magnetic. But being drop dead gorgeous only gets you so far in life. “I told you to stay away from me.”One dark brow arches, and his eyes narrow with obvious frustration. “You said, ‘Don’t come for me.’ What makes you think I’m here for you, Princess?”I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why else would you be here? I didn’t need your help with anything.”“Oh, really?” He looks down at the pile of as
*Ella*It’s raining harder than I thought possible. Outside, the day has faded into night–and whatever gods they worship in this strange kingdom are livid. Thunder booms, shaking the small cottage. I curl my hands around a little metal mug full of whiskey and keep my head low as I listen to the conversations taking place all around me. Ryatt has an entourage–every one of them young, each of them built like a brick wall and oozing with violence. At least, that's what it seems like at first glance. But as the men, and one other woman, in the cottage grow used to my presence, that icy, murderous feeling in the room fades, replaced by something I find shockingly familiar. Ryatt and Granger left, taking Quinn, the only other female beside myself, with them to what sounds like a nearby town. Now, those left behind are playing drinking games and eating whatever feast the Magpie had laid out for his packmates before they all met a gruesome end. In fact, there’s a pile of dead wolves right
*Ella*By all accounts, the village we arrive in under a cloak of inky, starless darkness looks like a small town somewhere in my brother’s territory. Streetlights cast a wide, crumbling gravel street in muted light, and buildings made of wood and stone rise in the distance along curved roads. A narrow, lazy river winds through the village. We cross several bridges, our footsteps the only sound. Our group has been broken into smaller parties of three or four people, everyone in their human forms, everyone acting like they’re simply out on a midnight stroll. As we walk further into the village, the buildings start to group closer together, and noise begins to cut through the hushed night air. There are no cars to be seen, but lighted signs and the sound of electricity buzz as we pass shops and what I believe are apartments. It’s like home, but… different. Less polished, less refined. Less modern, I realize. I stare up at one streetlight as I pass beneath it and see the same strange,
Misty“Everyone’s okay,” I tell Lexa and Addy, laying them out in the center of Ryan’s bed, side by side. Both babies scowl up at me–Lexa, for not being her mother, and my own son for showing another baby attention. Lexa’s face scrunches. She puffs her cheeks out in the threat of a wail while Addy picks up on her energy and begins to whine. I cover my ears, taking the deepest breath I can handle, and scoop both screaming infants into my arms for the hundredth time in the last two hours. “They just won’t sleep,” I say, rounding the corner into the living room where Sarah is still camped out with her new babies, and Sydney is pacing like a madman in front of the windows, looking for any sign of Kenna, Ryan, Aviva, and the kids. Sarah’s fast asleep with her brand new twins resting in a floor cot nearby, but Sydney has free hands, so I thrust Lexa against his chest without saying another word. “Freya’s supposed to be coming up to help,” he says under his breath, still looking worse fo
AvivaRyan looks hilarious in the too-tight clothes borrowed from some rural villager half his height and weight. He glances at me with a scowl, rolling his eyes and cursing under his breath. “Don’t look at me, Aviva.”“I can’t help it. Your whole ass is out,” I giggle, wiping tears from my eyes. Goddess, I wish I had his camera with me. He reaches down to pull what had once been trousers down over his thighs while shooting me another glare. He had to cut them into shorts to fit. The shirt isn’t any less revealing, but at least he’s not naked… or worse, in his terrifying beast form. He’s too exhausted after being in his beast form to shift into his wolf, which would have been easier than this, but I’m enjoying myself thoroughly at his expense. A few of the men from the village titter behind us while I walk a few paces behind my mate who’s turning a deep red in the face and sulking as we walk up the rural road, passing a few shops and cabins where people peek from their windows as we
AvivaThe forest shifts from endless shadows to an assortment of pale gold as the sun rises. I’m sprinting in my wolf form, Ryan not far behind in his. There was no reason for him to shift into his beast, thank goodness. He’s actually slower in that form than his wolf, but we’ve covered serious ground in the two hours since leaving Silverhide. Forty miles, in fact. A new record. Panting, I reach the far edge of the forest that weaves through the tribal territories of the Deadlands. Behind us, the packs of Silverhide and Endova are just waking up for the day. Ahead of us, the sun hasn’t even begun to touch the towering mountains to the far west, where my new powers showed me a glimpse of Maeve and Logan. I’m still getting used to the prickle of energy that wasn’t there before. It’s now the air I breathe–the blood rushing through my veins–the rhythmic thump of my heartbeat. I’m changed; for better or worse, I don’t know. All I know for sure is that we have another twenty to thirty m
Misty“Briar,” Sarah says weakly, sweeping her thumb over the perfectly pink baby girl’s cheek. Sarah smiles softly, her eyes still glazed with exhaustion and her hair damp with sweat. “And this one–” she reaches for the second baby, another girl, nestled in a traumatized Sydney’s arms. “Celeste.”“Those are beautiful names,” Aviva says gently, laying another warm rag over Sarah’s forehead. I’m watching from afar, my trembling hands cupping a mug of calming tea that’s doing nothing for my system. I was a teenager when Sarah came into Sydney’s life. I remember whispers about her falling ill but didn’t understand how horrifically sick she’d really been until now. Sarah is a Mystic. She’s different. It takes so much more energy to heal her. Healing her sucked my powers dry, and I feel… shockingly empty right now. It was like running a marathon and then getting hit by a bus, but she’s alive, and so are her twins. Sydney accepts another cup of tea from Ryan with a weak nod. He looks lik
MistyCole doesn’t tell me I should get some rest, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I pace the cabin, watching as he organizes and takes inventory of his medical kit. I remember the day I found out he was a physician. It had been a shock. My arm had been torn to the bone by a rabid, cursed wolf, and this man–this stranger who I thought was evil–sewed me back together again. That feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was, honestly. Sometimes I wonder if our weeks in Richard’s fortress actually happened or if it were a fever dream. But the glint of lantern light on the sharpened edge of a scalpel pulls me back into reality as he drops it into a pot of boiling water. “Are you going with us?” I ask into the silence. Cole’s mouth twitches with something unsaid. He shakes his head, glancing at me over his shoulder. “No. I’m going to stay here with Addy and be available to anyone who needs a healer.”I wait for him to tell me I should try to get a few minutes of sleep, but he doesn’t. I
Aviva“No one needs to worry about me,” Sarah says confidently, cradling the swell of her belly as she leads our group through the woods toward the lake. “I’m not going to go into labor right now, I promise.”Sydney grumbles something under his breath in response, the words drifting on the warm breeze making the leaves dance above our heads. Ryan’s hand is on my lower back–a warm, solid presence. Lexa’s asleep in her sling on his back, and when I look up at the two of them–with Ryan wearing a traditional Endovian sling and his face cast in uncertain shadows–I feel a prickle of regret. Part of me believes I shouldn’t have told him about what I saw in the forge. The past lives I walked through, the wars, the downfall of our kind… and most importantly, the fact that in another life, we lost our children and were separated for decades, only to find each other again in the very last moments before we both died. It stings to think about, though it doesn’t affect our lives now. I’m not sur
AvivaI watch Sarah and Misty leave the room. Misty takes Lexa with her, giving me a moment alone. I should be resting right now. If Maeve and Logan aren’t found by sunset, I have to put these new, unnatural-feeling powers to the test. I listen to the soft conversations taking place just beyond the bedroom door. I already know Ryan’s on edge and doing his best to handle this situation, but having Evander and Sydney here isn’t helping his stress levels at all, I fear. His wife almost drowned, his uncle wants me locked up in Moonrise until my powers fully emerge to ensure I’m not a danger to myself and others, and Maeve and Logan are still out there, hopefully together and safe. The door opens a crack before widening, revealing my mate and a large plate of food. The scent of blueberry syrup fills the air, bringing back memories of making this exact breakfast for my sisters, but that… causes my mind to drift back to the tangle of new memories. Memories of the countless lives my soul
MistySometime in the dead of night, Cole took Addy from my arms and laid him in his crib. I was next and woke up tucked against Cole’s chest as the first rays of warm, morning sunlight drifted through the window. Addy wakes up happy every morning lately and is beside himself with glee when he sees me looking down into his crib, extending my arms for him. Cole thinks Addy looks like me, but I beg to differ. I think his hair will be blond, of course, given that both his parents have fair, light hair but his eyes are starting to change from that soft blue to a paler, icier gray, like Cole’s. I run my fingers through his hair while he nurses. Cole continues to sleep, and I let him. I’m dreading starting our day, honestly, and stepping out into the village to see the aftermath of Kyra’s destruction and wait for news about Maeve and Logan.I feel awful for Kenna. My heart is shattered for her and Evander. I hold Addy c
MistyCole’s arms are wrapped around my stomach, his eyes widened in disbelief as he stares at Aviva. She looks like a wet rat right now–completely soaked to the bone with her hair plastered to her face and her knife belt hanging off her waist, but otherwise she’s whole.My powers are a meer flicker of what they usually are, but I feel them simmering to life as the strange, glowing symbols all over her arms and legs start to dim, and the roaring in my ears fades to the point I can hear my rapid heartbeat and Cole’s heart behind me. Ryan looks devastated. Devastated, and shocked–a myriad of emotions I can’t even begin to put into words. He shakes his head, mouthing Aviva’s name as he reaches a hand toward her then retreats. Aviva looks terrified as she scans the group, panting hard, her breath coming in shallow rasps. She turns her gaze back to Ryan, and her expression shatters, tears welling in h