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
AvivaRain patters across the wooden roof covering one corner of the old temple. I roll off the makeshift bed of hay and wool blankets I keep here. I stretch, rolling my neck. My hands are still bloody from the rogue I encountered last night as I gather my weapons and head down to the creek. I sleep out here sometimes, especially when the weather is nice. The old temple is just far enough from the village where I don’t have to worry about running into anyone during my nightly hunts but also close enough to keep me out of harm's way from the beasts that linger in the thick forest beyond the village.I’m washing my hands when I catch Alpha Ryan’s lingering scent. I forgot he’d come here last night, encountering me by accident, I believe. I try not to think about it as I walk back to the village, but it’s hard not to imagine every facial expression, especially the wry twist of his lips whenever I spoke.
Ryan“I feel like we’re in college again,” Jacob murmurs as we lean against the side of one of the earthen buildings on the outer ring of the village. He rolls his shoulders before crossing his arms over his chest, purposefully flexing. Andrew leans forward to peer at him, snorting, “Yeah, and just like in college, the chances of you getting’ any tail tonight is slim to nonexistent.”“I’ve put on like thirty pounds of muscle since then,” Jacob hisses, flexing his biceps in emphasis. I’m standing between them with my arms crossed as we watch the group of hunters–two dozen or so, by my estimation–prepare for the hunt. One group is entirely female and has my group's full, unwavering attention.“Do you remember the night,” Andrew laughs, pointing an accusatory finger at Jacob, “when you brought Gretchen Crosby to the fall formal afterparty?”“I don’t want to talk about that–”“And her boyfriend showed up, and instead of kicking his ass and taking her back to our dorm room, you ended up
Brie“Tonight?”“Yes, tonight.”“How?” I laugh, taking a step away from him. “We-we can’t.”“We can,” he says breathlessly, shaking his head. “The temple stays open all night. We’d just need to find a priestess.”“We’d need a witness,” I whisper as the cogs in my mind start turning. “I’d need a dress–”“I’d marry you like this,” he says, taking my hands. “But please, for the love of the Goddess, marry me before I go.”I blink up at Logan, my heart swelling and squeezing simultaneously. There’s still a whisper in my mind that warns me that he could change his mind, that he can’t really want me, but I… banish it, giving myself to him fully. “Are you sure?” I ask, scanning his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want you to be my wife, Brie.”“I’m already your mate.”“It’s not enough.” He brushes my hair out of my face and kisses me, but a rush of air alerts us to a visitor making their way up the stairs to the tower. I pull away as a soft knock sounds on the door. Neither
BrieLogan steps into my dad’s office. All eyes turn to him as he scans the men–Sydney, Grandpa Ryatt, my father, a few others that serve both my father and grandfather as generals, captains, and commanders. Logan’s eyes are like polished, imperfect emeralds as he eyes my grandpa wearily, like he’s not entirely sure he understands what Ryatt just said to everyone in the room. “Brie, you don’t need to be here for this,” Aviva whispers behind me, knitting her fingers in mine. But Logan growls, “She stays.”A silent, heavy, creeping hint of tension scatters around the room. The entire castle would explode if someone lit a match right now, I’m sure. My spine tingles as Logan turns to Ryatt and says, calmly despite the bite in his voice, “There’s nothing in Emberfyll.”“Quite the contrary,” my grandfather replies immediately, rounding my father’s desk, his shadow powers simmering and coiling around his fingers, “Debris has been washing up on the southern shore of Tarsian for decades now.
LoganBrie looks exhausted, but otherwise… happy, thank the Goddess, as she sits between her mother and Misty, listening to their conversation and picking at a sandwich. I lean my elbows on the table across the room where I’m sitting in silence, alone, still waiting for my mind to catch up with my body after Maeve jumped with us from the middle of the ocean to Veiled Valley. A shadow moves into view, crossing through the doorway before a shadow breaches the informal living area. Ryan looks around before turning the corner, beelining for me, waving away several rushed questions coming from the group of women on the couches nearby. He braces his hands on the table beside me, leaning down to whisper into my ear, “I need to speak to you in private before Ryatt returns. Can you come with me?”I glance at Brie, who’s watching us with her brows furrowed in worry. I suck my teeth before nodding, and Ryan moves back a step so I can stand. Brie and I have been using the mind-link as much as
BrieI pull the stool out from under my vanity, sinking down and facing Blake. I’m older than him by a few months. We’ve always been close, even when we were younger, and he tended to want to play rowdy boy games with Aris. He always sat quietly and played tea-party with me, though, without fail. He’s also the pariah of the family and knows it. His powers rival Ryatt’s, which is a terrifying thought. In fact, I often question who’s more powerful–him or Maeve? But that’s not a fair question at the moment, given that Maeve’s powers aren’t even fully developed yet. Blake, however… he exudes energy that makes my skin tingle as he sits in my desk chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “You found us, didn’t you?” He nods, a flash of guilt darkening his irises. “I admit I didn’t even look until Maeve cornered me. She felt you, she said. Sensed your arrival back in our waters.”I wonder how much Logan told the family. Probably everything, I’m sure. That man can talk, and I love that abou
BrieAt first I think I’m dreaming that I’m in my room in Veiled Valley. Familiar smells and textures unravel my senses, shielding me in a sense of calm serenity I haven’t felt in a very long time. Sunlight trickles through the curtains as they lift in a soft, warm summer breeze. Birdsong flutters through the air, breaking through murmured conversation nearby, but it sounds like a gorgeous day outside. The kind of summer day I’d spend in the garden before shifting and running into the mountains to that overlook, where a waterfall funnels back toward the city of deep, emerald green and crystal. The vision fades for the space of a breath, my eyes growing heavy once again. I wonder what I’ll dream of next? I hope it’s a good dream. But my stomach rolls and pitches, and I choke on a cough. Bright pain tingles through my body, settling at the base of my neck where a headache of epic proportions explodes, and suddenly wherever I am is too bright and far too loud. I groan, twisting into t
LoganI hit solid ground with a crunch that reverberates through my body, shocking me back to life. Dark stone and stained glass come into view, and it’s all familiar. We’re in Veiled Valley, in the castle.I blink, sucking in a breath, then curl to a seated position before swaying to my feet, my vision blurred, but I can just make out the outline of Maeve clutching Brie to her chest as Brie slumps over her arms. I run, slipping over the stone floor, and pull Brie out of Maeve’s grasp just as she begins to fall to the ground. “What is wrong with you?!” I shout at Maeve, kneeling and cradling Brie as my knees hit the ground. “What were you thinking?!”I smooth Brie’s hair out of her face. Her eyes are closed, and she’s pale, barely breathing. “Hey, Brie? Brie, come on–” I run my hand over her face, smoothing pale silver tears from her eyes, but she remains frozen. I look up at Maeve, who’s panting, a horrified look on her face. She shakes her head over, and over, mouthing something
LoganBrie folds her arms under her chest against the sudden, humid chill in the air. Thunder booms around us as the Artemis creeps toward the towering waves that should be crashing down on the deck but seem to hang in midair, casting long shadows over the ship. I rest my hands on the railing, caging Brie in against the wooden slats while we look up at the waves, neither of us breathing. In fact, everyone aboard the Artemis is standing on the deck, watching the unnerving sight in absolute bone-chilling silence. The waves simply vanish ahead of us, rolling back into the depths, allowing the fleet of over a dozen boats to pass. It’s unreal. It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. “Are you all right?” I ask my mate, resting my hand on her upper arm. She nods but is beyond words at this point. I don’t blame her. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for the last half hour as the Artemis leads the charge. Several men scale the ratlines to hang from the masts, keeping an eye on the shi
Brie“There’s four main ports on the continent,” Logan says, bending over the crude, illustrated map of Crescent Falls and Eastonia for Alex. “Here, in Maatua. Just south of that is Avalone, in Veiled Valley. I believe that’s where we’ll be closest. However, if we come out of the veil far south, there’s a port here, in Tarsian, which is part of Eastonia. And if we’re somehow north.” He breaths, tapping the map with his knuckles. “We’ll be here, in Crescent Falls.”“And Emberfyll is… where?” Alex asks.“Somewhere… over here, I believe.” He drags a finger south from Tarsian and sharply east. I follow it, my chest tightening as I look up at him. We’re on the Artemis right now, tucked away in Alex and Monica’s private quarters. Behind us, the Asteria, the Atropos, and two other grand ships bob in the water. Beyond them, an entire fleet of ships of varying sizes follows our progress away from Tempest Valley and into the open, toward the veil. We’ve been on the water for two weeks. Before
MaeveMom stands with her arms crossed on the balcony overlooking the ballroom in our castle. In the city below, the once beautiful, tropical landscape is cast in shadow. The crystal bridges lined with greenery are now painted in banners of black. A field of flowers stretches beyond the gates of the castle, left by mourners. Left for my sister. Veiled Valley has never been this quiet and dark. The sun has barely shown itself since Brie left us. The castle itself has barely stirred in that time. It’s magic just… can’t handle Brie’s loss. It mourns with the rest of us, sometimes sending a low, choked groan through the corridors that make the lights flicker, like the magic is crying. “I’m not ready,” Mom says quietly as she watches the women below mingle in small circles, most, if not all of them, dressed in dark fabric–mourning gowns. “I’ll tell them we’re waiting. It's not a problem,” I reply, gliding to her side, reaching to lay my hand over hers as she grips the balcony, but she t