LOGINIanDad’s in the mill on the edge of New Glade territory when I walk into the village. It’s almost noon. I took my sweet time walking home, mostly because Miller and Allison crossed paths with me, and I knew for sure he was about to get his ass handed to him in pieces for keeping her out well past sunrise. Both looked guilty as hell, which is good. He deserves that. She does, too, honestly. The air is spiced with saw dust and sap. I breathe in deeply, filling my lungs with the familiar smell, and lift my eyes to the catwalk where my dad is standing, his arms crossed over the railing, talking to another equally imposing man twenty years his senior. Grandpa Ryan arches a brow down at me, and I know I’m screwed. “Fuck, fuck,” I murmur, climbing the stairs to the catwalk, grumbling over the hum of saws. “Well, well, well.” Grandpa smirks, his beard peppered with sawdust that makes up half the air in the room. “Chose the long way home, I take it?”“Likely to avoid the conversation he
OakleyI’m barely lucid when the rolling, golden hills of Silverhide come into view at first light. A giant breakfast spread was laid out in the center of New Glade when Ian and I traversed back down from the peak after several hours of just talking and watching the stars. I’m not sure it even happened, to be honest. It feels like a dream, even now, while walking in sleepy, quiet solidarity beside him. Neither of us have said a word since we set out after breakfast. I have no idea where Allison is, but I’m sure she is on her way home as well. I trust Ian, which means I should trust his friends, too, and if not, Miller has another thing coming for him in the form of Allison’s fierce mother. My house comes into full focus when we approach the village center. The shops are opening for the day, and the air smells like yeast and sugar from freshly baked bread with a hint of the smoke from the village fire. Ian has slowed his pace for the past half mile or so. I’m pretending not to notic
IanRhett frowns beside me, both of us leaning on a neat stack of logs yet to make it through the mill for processing. It’s well past nightfall, but the village of New Glade is bright under the haze of firelight. Music and dancing takes up my vision, but I’m keeping a close eye on Oakley while she stands in a group of young women a few yards away. I stayed close to her throughout the ceremony, which I’m sure can be daunting and a little outlandish, even for people from the tribes. Funeral pyres were a big deal in the Glade when our people were in Pantharas. Death was everywhere, according to my father and the elders. Now, people live long, happy lives, or will, anyway. All the children here live past their fifth birthdays. No one has to worry about their fathers, brothers, and sons getting swept into servitude or cullings. This ceremony is how we honor who was lost before the wolves of the Glade finally found freedom. Oakley took the ceremony in stride. She was interested, which ma
OakleyI need to see a healer, I think. A priestess actually. Yeah, that would be more helpful in my situation. I’m either cursed or losing my mind, along with chunks of memory, because I do not remember hurting myself last night. I meet my bloodshot reflection in the mirror in the bathroom while rubbing my swollen wrist with a potent healing salve I pilfered from my Aunt Shuna. It’s from Teshka, of course, like she is. It feels gritty on my skin, like the rough sand beaches in that territory, but it does quell the incessant tingling. A sharp knock on the door tears my attention from my reflection. My mom’s voice rings out, “They’re here! Prince Ian is downstairs waiting for you.”“I’m coming,” I murmur, shaking my head several times like I can somehow knock loose the wool rolling through my mind like a ball of yarn, snatching memories and rational thought with it. When I step out of the bathroom, every female hand in the house begins to fuss over me like it’s my wedding day. By t
Ian“Ian?”I haven’t even closed the front door to my childhood home before Mom’s voice rings out through the foyer. For a house in New Glade, it’s rather nice. The foyer connects to two front rooms and a wide staircase leading to the upper floor, where three bedrooms and a bathroom soak in late afternoon light. Downstairs, a small, seldom-used kitchen is tucked in the back, as well as another, larger room where my parents spend most of their free time. I find her there, at a worktable, priming arrows. Shelves line the walls, full of weapon-making supplies and little trinkets of past adventures. Family pictures hang on the wooden walls, alongside blades dangling from hooks. My toy box is still in the corner of the room collecting dust, but I used to sit here, at this very table, playing with little carved effigies of warriors and wolves while my parents talked in quiet tones about hunts and the occasional skirmish between packs and tribes. I can still feel that silver chain around
OakleyIt takes three days for my arm to heal. Even so, the wound itches like mad and will definitely scar when the scabs heal over. But, there’s work to be done. Chores, as well as avoiding my mom and aunts, are all I plan to do today because, if I’m out of bed, I’m able to return to the forest tonight under the glare of the moon. I’d like to stop that from happening. Allison moves a few feet ahead of me in the garden behind the fiber shop. It’s an expansive space with fruit trees and flowers galore, as well as herbs and very specific flora we grow for even more specific reasons. Grandma Freya planted all of this decades ago, when she first came to Silverhide and the village was nothing but a few buildings, a packhouse, and the forge grumbling behind me. My Grandpa Andrew gave her anything she wanted and needed, carving out a sanctuary for his mate in the village that grew around them. My fingers are already stained a bright greenish-blue as I set down my container of true indigo
*Isla*“He’s on his way back,” Ben says hoarsely, running his fingers through his hair as he takes a seat in the dining room. I hold Isaac against my chest, patting his back as I pace along the far wall where the sunset is beaming through the windows. “I talked to him a few hours ago. He said he’d be
*Isla*“Look at you,” Maddox beams as he balances on his hands and knees in front of Isaac on the floor in the large, airy sitting room near the library. I glance up from the magazine I’m reading to watch them, smiling as Maddox drops onto his elbows to look Isaac in the eyes. Isaac, hating every min
*Isla*“It’s not even in the way she talks or handles business between the servants,” Poppy says as she winds a lock of my hair around a curling iron. “There’s just something strange about her.”“And Trinity hired her,” I add, dusting my cheeks with blush. “Yes, and that,” Poppy grimaces, starting on
*Maddox*My head is ringing as I open my eyes and try to remember where I am and what’s going on. The last thing I remember is a bright light shining in my face and then being thrown. Judging by the pain in the back of my neck and my shoulders, I must’ve hit something hard.Turning around, I see I’m s







