Sydney
A Few Days Later
I pour another ladle full of chicken noodle soup into the bowl on the tray I’ve been putting together for the last thirty minutes. The kitchen all around me is a complete disaster, but the tray looks nice. I smile at the little yellow flower I plucked from Sarah’s collection in the atrium. She’s been spending most of her days there this week, taking inventory in preparation for the spring planting season. She has huge plans for not only the historic gardens surrounding our manor, but down in the village as well where I’ve carved out a few new parks for pack use.
The kettle squeals, and I pour a cup of tea–the kind from a box. I have no idea what Cosette puts in the tea she’s always drinking with my mate.
I carefully pick up the tray and turn my back on the mess I left behind in the kitchen and make my way down the hallway toward the sitting room at the fron
Sarah3 months laterI clutch the steering wheel as I turn my car toward the private driveway leading to the castle. Blake claps his hands to the music humming through the speakers while Sydney, seated beside me, digs through his briefcase, mumbling under his breath.“What are you looking for?” I ask, glancing at him briefly.Summer is in full swing all around us, shading the road beneath the thick, deep green canopy of trees.“I had something drawn up for Cosette,” he murmurs. “From our estate. I think I might have left it at home.” He runs his fingers through his hair then down his face, murmuring a curse. “We might have to turn around.”“I’m sure you have it, whatever you’re looking for,” I laugh, and Blake squeals with delight as we drive over a bump then turn through the main gate.The front garden has been
RyanJames scribbles on a piece of paper as people file into the pack house out of the rain. The two-story community building I had built three years ago, when I established Silverhide, is built in a traditional style I forced Sydney to help me plan out. The walls are made of thick logs burnt a deep black. The first story is just a giant room with several long tables and enough chairs for everyone–all hundred or so members, including a few babies born this summer–to fit comfortably with room to spare.A fire roars in the massive stone hearth at the very center of the room, sending heat licking down my back as I pace back and forth behind the main table.James, my Beta, looks up as another group filters inside, writing their names down. Andrew, my head warrior, the commander of my meager forces, technically, sits on James’s other side, his hands folded neatly on the table's surface.I’m not sure what
AvivaThe wind hasn’t yet swept last autumn’s leaves off the forest floor. Soft, pale green tufts of spring grass poke out in heaps as I crouch behind a large bramble bush, the earthy scent of the early blooms all around us momentarily stealing my senses.But only briefly. Ten year old Shosannah smells like adrenaline and the pancakes with blueberry syrup she had for breakfast as her soft red hair whips across my cheeks, her body rigid and bright green eyes focused on the sparse trees ahead of us.Lora, six, fidgets on my otherside. “Aviva,” she hisses, tugging on the sleeve of my tunic. “I have to pee!”“Shut up, Lora,” Shosh whispers, her arm flexed as she draws back her arrow, which looks massive against the child-sized bow I whittled for her as a Solstice gift.“Breath in,” I whisper against the rim of my little sister’s ear. She does, holding her br
Ryan“What happened to you?” Andrew asks as I walk back to where he’s waiting with a few wolves and men in their human forms, all of them carrying goods or pulling carts with our tents and what I hope are peace offerings for our new neighbors.Andrew’s light brown hair nearly touches his shoulders now compared to the short cropped hairstyle he used to wear in Crescent Falls. His dark eyes, the color of coal, are brighter, though. Happier. More at ease.I look my lead warrior, my meager forces commander, up and down as I walk up to the group. The left sleeve of my long sleeve shirt–handmade from linen spun and sewn by hand–is stained with blood. I look down at it and shrug. “I met some friends.”“Friends?” Jacob, who used to run my garage, chuckles.I smirk as I rest my hands on my hips and scan the small caravan of men and wolves who’ve been traveling
AvivaThe meeting hall is crowded from wall to wall. I hug one of the walls, my back pressed flat against it as I try to blend in with the dark stone. Everyone is merry as they walk between tables laden with food and drink. Everyone in attendance has worn their finest fabrics and beads. Many of the single, of age, young women have truly gone all out, in fact.I cross my arms under my less-than-ample breasts and tap my nails against the long gold chains looping around my neck, inlaid with multicolored beads of turquoise and amethyst.The necklace is one of the few things I have left of my mother except for Shosanna and Lora. Mercy didn’t want the necklace because turquoise is a stone rather than a gleaming gem, and amethyst “washes her out,” or so she says. In fact, she didn’t want much of mother’s things at all when she died six years ago, a few days after Lora came into the world. Her dresses were taken ap
Ryan“You’re sure there’s no way out of this?” Jacob asks Andrew two hours later. We’re sitting around a campfire roughly a half mile outside of the village.Andrew nods, glancing at me before hugging his knees. “These tribes are steeped in tradition, guys. I don’t know what else to say. If Alpha Ryan refused the girl, he would have been offered another, and another, and if he’d refused to marry outright, she would have been given as a… concubine, perhaps.”I close my eyes for a moment and sigh around the rim of my water jug. The sweet, heavy wine and mead I’d been served over and over again, my cup never empty, has my head pounding already.But the second I close my eyes, I see her. Aviva. What a name. It dances over my tongue like a song, and it seems fitting for her.She’s a very strange woman, and I mean that in the nicest way. She has a gla
*Isla*Rain pounds my back as I follow Alpha Ernest up the wide marble steps to a home I never expect to see in real life. I look around quickly, but he is walking fast, and I don’t have much time to see the outside of the mansion. I only know it resembles a castle. The dreary sky seems fitting, considering my bleak outlook.Likewise, this castle is fitting for an Alpha King.Under the wide porch, there is a bit of shelter from the wind. I pull my thin cloak around my shoulders. When Alpha Ernest’s fist pounds on the door, I jumped. Everything about this day is unexpected and has me on edge.The door opens a bit and a man with a thin, long nose gapes out at us. He is wearing a butler’s suit, and I relax only slightly.Not that I expected the cruel king to open his own door, but I am thankful not to be faced with him right away.“Greetings! Greetings!” Alpha Ernest says in his jovial, exceedingly loud voice. He laughs in the back of his throat, his gruff tone as raspy as the thunder in
*Maddox*I hear the word come out of Alpha Ernest’s mouth, watch his gums flap as his fat cheeks shift into a smile, his greasy mustache dancing as he tips his head up and blinks at me.He’s like a shoddy used car salesman, trying to convince me to take something I don’t want or need.Something that’s broken and doesn’t even work correctly—something that will never serve its intended purpose.What he doesn’t know is that I’ve already been considering finding a breeder for the last few months. I just haven’t had the time to try to find a woman who would fit the requirements.Everything he’s said is true. I certainly don’t ever want to marry again, no matter what. Even thinking about my wife makes my heart tighten up and my eyes begin to water. I have to immediately push her beautiful face from my mind. No, I will not ever take another bride.That means, in order to have an heir, I have to find a woman who’d be willing to carry my child knowing that there are no strings attached.That s