*Ella*By all accounts, the village we arrive in under a cloak of inky, starless darkness looks like a small town somewhere in my brother’s territory. Streetlights cast a wide, crumbling gravel street in muted light, and buildings made of wood and stone rise in the distance along curved roads. A narrow, lazy river winds through the village. We cross several bridges, our footsteps the only sound. Our group has been broken into smaller parties of three or four people, everyone in their human forms, everyone acting like they’re simply out on a midnight stroll. As we walk further into the village, the buildings start to group closer together, and noise begins to cut through the hushed night air. There are no cars to be seen, but lighted signs and the sound of electricity buzz as we pass shops and what I believe are apartments. It’s like home, but… different. Less polished, less refined. Less modern, I realize. I stare up at one streetlight as I pass beneath it and see the same strange,
*Ryatt*It doesn’t take long for word to spread about what happened at the auction. Especially since I burned it to the ground once all of my men and women were safely out of the building and scattering toward the outskirts of Twin Rivers. I sent Amanda and Ella with Granger. He’d take them back to the camp we established in the forest, a place tucked several miles from the winding, derelict road leading toward my father’s territory. Quinn, however, stands beside me at a market stall, her hood shielding half of her face in shadow. “I take it you’re staying,” I say to her under my breath as I pick through a variety of produce laid out in woven baskets. “Someone needs to stay behind and watch the Silver Bridge,” she says in a low rasping whisper. Quinn picks up an apple and bites into it, much to the annoyance of the man selling the produce. She flips a small coin in his direction and turns to me. “You’re sure about this? Keeping her?”“You act like she’s some wild animal I mean to
*Ella*Granger drags me by the arm through the dense forest, his other hand clutching Amanda by the back of her shirt–something that hangs off her slight frame–likely belonging to one of Ryatt’s men–as he guides us away from the camp. Behind us, the sounds of battle ring through the forest. I barely have a moment to swallow, let alone think, or even catch my breath, before Granger shoves us both into a clearing that descends into a shadowed clump of tangled alders. I glance at the dark, shadowed recesses beyond the trees. A strange sensation drifts over my skin as the shadows seem to shift, beckoning me toward them. A shiver licks up my spine, making me wince and tear my eyesight from the trees back to Granger, who is currently shaking Amanda by the shoulders as he loudly, and sharply, scolds her. “You will stay with Ella, do you understand?”“Get off of me you fucking brute!” she hisses, shoving him away. He grabs her by the front of her shirt and pulls her back to him, leaning
*Maddy*Cassian looks like absolute hell. His legs are stretched out on the couch in the informal den on the third floor, a place with a high-tech stereo and several bookcases stacked with magazines and board games. It’s normally a happy, relaxing place, but his presence sucks the very life out of the castle, let alone this room. A wiry old man with bottle-cap glasses inspects the gleaming metal arm now attached to Cassian, replacing the right arm he lost in battle. I’m speechless, in total shock as I hover nearby, standing on my toes to look over the shoulder of the stooped old healer. “Now, try to curl your fingers,” the healer says in a graveling voice. His nose crinkles with delight as Cassian does exactly that, the metal fingers flexing, then curling inward. “Incredible.”Dark circles line Cassian’s eyes, and his normally handsome face is hollow and expressionless as he wordlessly goes through the exercises instructed by the healer. Isaac stands nearby, his arms crossed, with
*Ella*Three days passed. Three days we spent hiding in the cave waiting for Granger then running like hell to Granite Rise at his behest. The rest of the time we spent sitting around with no news about what happened in the clearing after Ryatt forced us to leave. For three days, I’ve gone over every harsh word I’d ever said to him, wondering if I’d been wrong. We’ve been in Granite Rise for a little over twenty-four hours now. I’ve barely left the house–Amanda’s parents’ house–since we arrived. Hannah continues her endless slumber in a bedroom downstairs, overseen by the occasional healer who dribbles water and broth into her mouth just to keep her alive. She still has that sleepy smile on her face, but her skin has become pale and glassy, and her once bright, tightly curled pale golden hair is now lackluster. I move away from her bed for what feels like the hundredth time today, my finger curling around the doorknob as I glance at her over my shoulder one last time before I forc
*Ryatt*Ella moves between the canvases in her studio, sunlight dusting over her bare shoulders. She tucks a strand of her lush, dark brown hair behind her ear, revealing her paint-smeared cheek. Tear stains shimmer in the sunlight drifting through the angular windows like little silver pieces of thread that trail down her jaw and neck. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, again and again. How many years has this been happening now? My nightmares bleeding into her own? I can’t stop it from happening. I’ve tried, trust me. I’ve taken every potion and tonic to put me into a complete stupor to stop my mind from drifting when I finally close my eyes, but that bond we share against our will ignites almost every night, tethering us together across realms. I watch as she opens a can of black paint. She pulls a vial from her pocket that glistens in the sunlight–pale white with tinges of blue. “Don’t, please–”Too late. She empties the vial of her tears into the paint and mixes it well until the conten
*Ella*I used to bring myself to tears to get what I wanted. It never worked on my mom, not once. But my dad… he was a sucker for my tears and always bent to my will if I let them flow. But I was a different person before I left my kingdom behind to come here. Now, my tears are real, and I do, in fact, feel like I’m falling to pieces. Since Hannah is still in a coma, Amanda is my only friend in this place, if I can even call her that. And right now, she’s on house arrest, or whatever the equivalent of grounding is in this Goddess forsaken place. Ryatt slowly turns around, his face shrouded in shadows. Rain patters on the top of his head, making his dark hair twist into curls. His gray eyes are sharp and focused on mine. “Go back inside.”“Are you coming with me?” I ask, hating how desperate I sound, but I am desperate. Desperate for anything from him, despite the walls I’ve built around my heart. He exhales through his nose and glances at the cottage over the top of my head. “For a
*Ella*Ryatt goes totally still. “I’ve never–I’ve never done this–” He pulls away, and I feel like someone has just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. I snap my legs shut, a furious blush crashing over my skin like a tidal wave. Even my hair stands on end as a deep, cutting embarrassment shreds me apart. I look at him only once. His eyes are dark now, his expression made of cold stone. “I’m sorry,” I breathe, and his eyes snap to mine. “Don’t be. This was my fault. I lost control.”“No, it was mine–”The door in the front of the cottage opens and several male voices drift our way. I suck in a surprised breath, but Ryatt has already turned and left the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him before anyone can see me in my state of undress. My heart is thundering in my chest as I quickly cover my thin nightgown with a robe and head to the door, but I stop, my hand curling around the knob, when Ryatt’s voice lifts above the rest of the muffled conversation in the next ro
LoganRyatt and Evander walk out of sight across the bridge connecting the barracks to the main streets of the city. I look out of my old bedroom window at the sunny glare casting shadows over the valley. The shadows move as the clouds dart across the sky toward the castle, toward my wife, who I’d much rather be with right now than here. I… I don’t have anything to pack. Anything that meant anything to me–my laptop, my fucking glasses–were lost in the shipwreck. I have the clothes on my back, and even those were borrowed from who-knows-where, left on the dresser in Brie’s bedroom by the ghost that haunts her house. She’s all I have, and it’s not like I can pack her in my duffle bag and take her with me. I crank open the window to let in some fresh air to cut through the overwhelmingly male smell of the barracks. I turn to my empty duffle bag with a sigh, bracing my hands on either side of it on the bed, and hang my head, but a whoosh of air rushes out behind me, and I turn in time
BrieThe moment my bedroom door closes behind us, Logan’s mouth is on mine. The lock slides into place with a soft click, and an even softer groan leaves his mouth when I reach up to run my fingers through his damp curls. He smells like rain and leather. Like the promise of warmth and comfort through another stormy night. And now this man–this loud, obnoxious, opinionated man… he’s mine. He presses a kiss to the ring he bought today on a whim. It’s a simple band of gold–that’s it. “I'll give you a better one when I return,” he promises, kissing the palm of my hand before his lips find mine again. “A ring with a diamond the old gods can see from the heavens.”“I don’t care about that.” I giggle as his hands glide down my sides, pulling me close. Outside, thunder booms, the room lighting in ribbons of blue as lightning splits the clouds, but in here, it’s warm. It’s private. It’s just us. He removes my cloak. It falls to the ground in a heap at my feet. He’s careful with the dress,
MaeveBrie is… radiant. She glows in her simple white dress of lace and satin, her hair falling loose over her back and shoulders as Logan slowly, tenderly, lowers the hood of her dark blue cloak. The temple is quiet and dim, moonlight flooding the altar. Logan knits his fingers in Brie’s and brings her knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss against them. They’re bathed in silver, the windows behind them dancing in starlight. It’s beautiful, really. It’s what I envisioned for her, one day, what I thought would be… years from now. I watch my sister–the person I love the most in all of the world–intertwine her soul with someone else, forcing myself to unravel the ribbons binding my heart to hers. She doesn’t belong to me anymore. Logan looks at her as they kneel before the priestess in her silver robes. They lean into each other like being inches away is too far apart. And the look on his face as he brushes his lips over her temple… he loves her. He’s devoted–body, and soul. My heart
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