*Maddy*He doesn’t even know my name.That’s all I can think about as I sit beside Ella and desperately try to pay attention to the workbooks in front of me on a long wooden table etched with little carvings of stick figures. I run a fingertip over several sets of carved letters, a testament to the past, and the little boys who were raised together in this very castle.It’s hard to imagine King Isaac and Beta Cassian as children, especially naughty children who carved their names and some rather colorful insults toward each other, and the teachers hired to homeschool them both, into this table.“You’re doing really well,” Ella says, and for once, not in my home language.I understand every single word.“Thank you,” I smile, looking up from the etchings. “I’ve been studying every night before I go to bed, and eating in the servants hall helps a lot.”“They know all the slang, that’s why,” she grins, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder as she flips a page in the book we’ve been wor
*Isaac*I watch her leave my office, taking note of the way she moves, the way her long red hair nearly touches her waist as it sways. She looks at me over her shoulder before slipping out of the room, and those stormy blue eyes settle on mine. She is familiar. But is she really the young woman I danced with at the ball all those years ago? If so, maybe this is a gift from the Goddess in lieu of allowing me to find my true mate. But that spark isn’t there behind her eyes anymore. That coy smile doesn’t tilt at the edges or reach her eyes. Madeline. That’s her name, and I believe her. I let out my breath and sink into the chair behind my desk, running a hand over my face before reaching for my phone. Cassian is correct in that I need to woo her. If we’re ever going to have sex without it being an absolutely grating and stale experience for both of us, I need to do something to show her I appreciate her… sacrifice… to my kingdom. Arranged marriages happen every day, but very few,
*Isaac*“How did you get in here?”The young man, no older than myself, rolls his neck as his gaze drops from my face to scan the room. “It’s a strange feeling being on the brink of war, isn’t it? Knowing it’s coming and knowing there’s only so much you can do to prepare.” His eyes meet mine again, cold and stone-gray. I know who he is, but he isn’t what I expected. Young, a somewhat sarcastic tone to his voice, something that makes him sound almost boyish. For a man in control of a mystical army, one that has already flattened several rogue villages and is slowly encroaching on my territory, he seems entirely too… casual. But I can feel the power on him. Not just his wolf, no. Something much darker, colder, something that sucks the light right out of the room. Juxtaposed with my own powers, most of which I still don’t understand, I feel like I’m the only one standing between him and the castle being sucked into a dark abyss. “Alpha King Kane,” I say with deadly malice, my patience
*Maddy*I wake with a start to my bedroom door opening. After a week spent living in this castle full time, I’m still not used to the maids fluttering in and out and around the castle day in and day out. They move like ghosts most of the time, save for Hannah, who always stops to talk if she has a moment to spare. I roll over and find that the young maid who tends to my room in the early morning–stoking the fire and laying out fresh clothes or dropping off baskets of laundry–is not who's currently shutting the door snuggly behind them. I pull the sheets up to my chest as King Isaac walks into the center of the room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. A white shirt hugs his torso, showing off every broad muscle of his chest and shoulders. Ruffled from sleep, and looking slightly dazed as if he just woke up, he stares at me for a long time before he finally says something. “Good morning.”“G-good morning,” I stammer, sitting up a bit and letting the sheets fal
*Maddy*The kitchen is in a state of chaos. I sit in the middle of it, tucked on a barstool at the edge of the marble island in the room’s center. The air is a mix of sugary and savory while the chef and their crew hurry to put together a meal fit for the king… and his parents, who just showed up. Isaac hadn’t even introduced me formally to his mother. Ella had come running down the hallway looking frantic, followed by King Maddox. In a flash of blonde curls, Hannah had practically apparated beside me and swooped me away through a servants’ door just as the voices of the royal family started to rise. Now, I sit in the kitchen where cooking sounds–the banging of pots and pans, the hissing of boiling water–overwhelm any fights taking place in the castle proper. The chef places another plate in front of me, removing the old one. I give her a quick smile that doesn’t reach my eyes as I start picking at chicken salad and crackers. Who am I kidding right now? One look at Isla, once the
*Maddy*Once a Luna, always a Luna, at least that’s how I perceive the woman sitting across from me in a high back armchair. Soft afternoon sunlight makes her glow a pale gold, an aura nearly the same color as her long, silken blonde hair. Her eyes are exactly like Isaac’s, and it gives me a start to look directly into them. I’m sitting before a goddess–kind and warm–and I am no one, yet I’m taking her place. “Isaac says your parents are no longer alive, but you have a stepmother and stepsister. Will you be inviting them to the wedding, now that we’ve… been given more time?” She blushes a bit, which surprises me. I don’t know what was said before I came into the room, but it’s almost as if she feels guilty for throwing off the rushed order of things. “Oh, them,” I sigh, unable to stop myself. I meet her eyes, blue gems behind gold dusted lashes. “We’re not close.”“How come?”I grit my teeth in an effort to stop myself from speaking before thinking. While my fluency in their languag
*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
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