LOGINBook 19: Witch of the AlphaZayn“Good morning, Zayn.”“General Zayn. You look well.”“Zayn! Good morning! Have you eaten yet? There’s still breakfast left in the dining hall.”“General. Commander Abel has called a meeting at noon. I’m not sure you knew. Actually, I doubt you’re required to go based on your current post. Disregard–”“Zayn, how is your mother? Is she still at the temple?”Zayn. Zayn. Zayn.Early mornings in lower levels of the palace are always a rush of conversation and activity. It’s such a contrast to the quiet of the city beyond the palace walls, still asleep under a blanket of starlight and a cool, swift breeze drifting off the lake. Steam rises like plumes of mist around my shoulders while I sidestep through the main kitchen, carrying a crate the delivery boy forgot to bring in, dodging hands outstretched in good morning salutations–all the usual greetings.The spiderweb of servant hallways is just as crowded. Maids dart back and forth, carrying bundles of laundr
FallonThe humid weight of mid-summer beats down on my brow as I move through the garden, frowning at the twenty-foot wall shielding my view of the city of Moonrise–and the public's view of me. I crouch to pull a few weeds from the base of the hedgerow and dust my fingertips on the apron I stole off a hook in the servants’ hall just off the garden, twisting the rough fabric between my fingertips. I rise and move on to the thickets of mustard greens, ignoring the tomatoes because their leaves make my fingers green and itchy, and all the while, a tall, aggravating, annoying, pointless shadow follows my progress. I look up at the guard in royal garb–which includes a helmet and mask of iron–something I suppose was designed to look menacing, and it sure does. Sunlight glints off braids of iron and onyx covering his nose and mouth. His eyes are pools of the deepest black, even in direct light. His chest and arm guards are no different and likely weigh over a hundred pounds. I guess that’s
AlexToby braces his hands on either side of the bundle of blue fabric on my bed, tilting his head and squinting at the little fist reaching through the folds of a baby blanket. “Was he born with fangs?” He reaches like he’s about to stick his filthy fingers in my son’s mouth. I swat his hand away. “No, of course not. He’s a baby.”“Babies can have teeth. Don’t–don’t look at me like that, Alex. They can. Look it up. It’s rather terrifying.”Lucan starts to whimper, flailing until he loosens the blanket. Toby winces and backs away, allowing me to scoop Luc up and tuck him in my arm, giving my friend a better view of the newborn who was born only two weeks ago. “Wow. He looks like Skye.”“He does, doesn’t he? That’s exactly what I thought when I saw him for the first time.” Actually, I was thinking a million things during a horrific twelve-hour labor that Skye breezed through while I crumbled, her face set in silent determination. I’ve truly never met another woman like her. Once she
SkyeFive months later…My office at the University of Moonrise is in a spire overlooking the back half of the sprawling, ancient city of gold and the lake, which shines a deep turquoise in the mid-summer sun. I juggle several books as I move like a snail up another spiraling staircase, pausing several times to catch my breath and wave away the curious, concerned looks and pleas to help that my fellows throw in my direction. I’m due at the end of the week, and while joining the university as a fellow and researcher with plans to start lecturing again next year has been the best kind of distraction, this pregnancy has been awful, and I am so ready to be done. It’s been a marathon, and I’m not a runner by any means. Lately, I've been desperate to shift, but I’m too far along to risk that now. So, I walk around the lake. I hike up and down the staircases in the palace, where I’ve recently taken a suite at Kenna’s urging because, according to her, I could give birth any day, and it feels
SkyeTwo more weeks pass in a blur. At first, it seemed like a hundred years. I was constantly poked and prodded and wasn’t deemed healed enough naturally to have Misty and Kenna step back in with their magic, but finally, the morning came when I managed to swallow without pain, and the rush to heal me completely returned with fervor. Misty arrived, working her magic, sewing me together from the inside out. Kenna managed the baby, keeping whoever this tiny person growing inside of me is safe, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The worst thing about this recovery was the sharp and violent return of my pregnancy symptoms. I traded being bedridden with a catastrophic injury for being bedridden with nausea so severe that I lost ten pounds in a matter of days. Alex was amazing through all of it, but I know conversations were being had in the background about the ability of me returning to Lunaria, because right now, it doesn’t seem like an option. And, this morning, the option to return
SkyeIt is not, in fact, all over. “What?” I croak while Mom aggressively fluffs my pillows and settles me upright in my bed. I was right–I’m in my old room in my parents’ house in Moonrise. Thick, impenetrable curtains hang from my windows, blocking out ninety percent of the sunlight, only allowing strips that Alex seems to walk through without any issues. I don’t remember anything, save for the first moments of the attack and glimmers of hazy images of my dad’s office before it all grows black and blurry. “The Alpha of Aurorium wants someone to take the fall for the murders,” Maeve, who spirited into the room ten minutes ago, explains with overt annoyance. She’s perched on the edge of my bed, dressed casually in a dark red sweater and matching pants, with her extraordinarily thick brown hair piled messily on top of her head. Kenna left the room twenty minutes ago. To do what, I have no idea, but Alex remains, pacing and tapping his fingertips on his chin while watching every brea
MaeveI like to try to learn something new every day. Today, in the dead hours of the night, I learn that ten dollars does, in fact, cover the cost of a hotel room in the shittiest little hotel in all of Eastonia… which includes a twin bed with what I believe might be a rather large blood stain, a
LoganSunlight pours over the deck of the Asteria, glinting off the sails. I watch the Artemis drift past, Alex waving from the upper deck before fading into the bright glare of the sun. I grip the railing, closing my eyes for a moment and taking a much needed breath that catches in my throat the s
SorenSomething’s off. I yank against the knots, ignoring the pain in my body. I have to give credit where credit is due, I suppose, seeing as the two women who tied me up did a fine job of it. I hear a door close and water running, then make my move. Maeve thinks she has the upper hand because sh
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, cagi







