Aviva
I wake with a start to bright, warm sunshine and the smell of salty air. I grope white sheets, blinking several times to clear my vision as an unfamiliar bedroom fades to life around me. Warm white walls. Pale wood finishes and sleek furniture in soft browns and creams. White curtains drift in a salty breeze coming through several open windows, and a glass door opens to a deck with a view of… a view of the ocean.
I’ve never seen the ocean before. From where I lie, I can hear the waves crashing on a white sand beach. Music I don’t recognize drifts toward me, carrying two voices with it, one male, and one female.
“Your parents worry about you endlessly, Misty.”
“They have nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’m ten anymore, Grandpa. I can make my own way in the world now. Plus, where was their worry when they shipped me here four years ago, huh?”
“You
RyanAn hour earlier…I can’t scrub the image of Aviva dead in my arms out of my head. It’s been several days since the battle, since the moment I put her in my uncle's arms and turned back to the ravaged scene, not knowing whether or not she survived the journey all the way to Maatua.Three days. It was three entire days before Sydney arrived in Silverhide with news about my mate. I’d just arrived back at my territory, exhausted and in tatters, when he clapped a hand on my shoulder and used his powers to spirit us to Moonrise, then to Veiled Valley, then to Maatua. He’s not as strong as Ryatt. Jumping took a toll on us both, and when we finally arrived at my grandparents’ beach house, I collapsed before I even made it up their driveway.Everything since the battle is a blur. Navvan is just… gone. The few survivors were mostly women and children who’d left the villag
Two months later…RyanThe Harvest Festival has been held at the festival grounds between Endova, Teshka, and Navvan for centuries. When we arrived two days ago, leaving only a few people behind in Silverhide to make sure the animals are tended to in our absence, the wide, open space had been nothing but rolling plains.Now, it’s a city of canvas tents and twinkling lights, the air spiced with smoke and the smells of meals being cooked at each fire. Songs mingle as I walk through the festival with Aviva on my arm. I’m wearing a normal outfit. Well, not normal, actually. Mom forced me into a suit and tie with the Crescent Falls royal banner and all of my metals from my years as a warrior draped over my shoulders. Aviva is wearing that white, fur-lined dress again and a pair of new sheep-skin boots Freya and Mercy made for her, but instead of freshwater clam shells and pearls decorating her hair, her curls are w
AvivaThe first flakes of snow fall from the sky as I watch Ryan trying to herd everyone in position. Bundled against the cold in a wool coat Freya and I worked tirelessly on for the last three weeks, I step to the side, finding myself in the center of the crowd standing in the middle of the village of Silverhide. I watch my mate and his Beta, James, nudge families together and run back and forth toward a tripod where Ryan’s camera rests, facing us, to gauge whether all one-hundred and fifty people are in view of the lens.Ryan stands behind the camera with his hands up, his hair dusted with snow. “Okay. Nobody move!”A few excited giggles whisper through the front of the crowd where the numerous children are arranged. I glance around, watching as James joins Dahlia’s side, their baby on her hip. The baby girl finally has a name. Cosette, named after a friend of Dahlia, but they call her Cossie for short. Other babies
MistyTwo white wolves in a clearing.Their bodies made of mist and aether, standing side by side.Mates. A marvel of second chances and extraordinary fate.Two white wolves turn toward the sunrise knowing what they must leave behind; what he sacrificed for those he loved and her refusal to let him go into death alone.Two white wolves stand over their earthly bodies. He, battered and still.She, going into death with eyes open, cupping her mate's face between her graceful hands, her eyes locked on his at the moment of her dying breath.Their last words had been simple. I love you.They always had.They’d promised this instance in stolen moments, in private corners, when there was nothing but the stars to light their way.I will not stay here without you.I will not leave you behind.And so, it was.Two
MistyI flip a page in my journal, squinting at the terrible handwriting I’d scribbled down last night when I’d woken from my latest dream. I can’t comprehend what I’d been trying to say. Dark? Hurt? Silver? Those words look somewhat clear. I can’t even remember writing them down. I close the journal with a sigh and slip it back in my purse, hanging the bag over the back of my chair in the common room of my dormitory. It’s a massive building with a pitched roof, several towers, and spooky, darkened alcoves, but it’s home, and right now, I’m sure I’d be able to hear Georgia singing her heart out in the shower if the nagging, incessant voice in my head would shut up for a single, blissful second. I’ve come to the conclusion after two years of hearing what I can only describe as white noise and the occasional static screech, like I have a radio fixed inside my skull, that the voice isn’t my internal dialogue. No, that’s a separate entity in itself, and I’m constantly at odds with the u
MistyMusic blares from hidden speakers. Purple-hued light covers the wide, open ballroom of sorts in dim colors as bodies move to sensual, thrumming songs that I don’t find even remotely familiar. Men and women alike are all dressed in black–black masks, black dresses, black suits. Some wear hoods to cover their hair, but I can’t tell who's who… I can’t tell who belongs to the order and who’s just an invitee. A screech of excitement barrels toward us as we edge down a short row of stone steps. Two women in black masks launch themselves at us–Fia and Darby–and I catch Darby at the very moment she wobbles in her impossibly high heels. “No freakin’ way!” Fia shouts over the music. “We were wondering if you guys got invited!”“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Georgia gasps, clutching Fia’s face. “We could’ve all gotten ready together!”Darby bounces up and down beside me, clutching a plastic cup in her hand full of what smells like cheap beer. “Isn’t this great?”Georgia, Darby, and Fia
MistyBurning sunlight stuns me into alertness. I open my eyes to slits and promptly close them again. A dull pain spreads through my head, reminiscent of the type of hangover I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but that doesn’t make any sense. I’m standing in the damp, dusty corridor in the web-like underground beneath campus… right?I open my eyes against the light and stare blankly at the ceiling of my dorm room. Soft snoring echoes all around me. Ignoring the sickening pain in my head, I turn ever so slightly to look at the person who’s arm and leg are draped over my body, finding Georgia sleeping peacefully, still wearing her black dress. We’re in her bed on top of the bedspread, and one quick glance across the room shows me a tangle of cloaks and shoes separating Georgia’s section of the tight room from mine where Fia and Darby are fast asleep in my bed. I sit up. Georgia’s arm slips from my waist as I slide out of bed and walk on unsteady feet to the door, grabbing my shower k
MistyGeorgia turns to the railing in awe. The students sharing our little alcove rise from their chairs in confusion as the books crash to the ground.My already thundering heart nearly stops, skipping several beats, and in that time, the first screams echo all the way down to us on the second to last floor, splitting the normally silent air into pieces. I stand, my chair falling over backward, as green-hued light blasts through the upper section of the library.“GEORGIA!” I scream, lunging for her as debris–a tangle of stone, books, and paper–cascade down the open space housing the staircase. A shockwave slams into us, knocking Georgia away from the railing and sending me backward into one of the racks, my spine singing in pain. More screams follow, growing in intensity, as I open my eyes to thick dust and the haze of magic I can taste on my tongue.Shadowed figures move down the staircase. Wolves
RyanThere’s a river that runs through the Deadlands. The same river that splits Eastonia in two. On the other side, mountains hug the horizon, blurring the view of Tarsian beyond. In the Deadlands, the river is… wide, but still. A large, lumbering stretch of clear water that weaves through the plains. Here, in the Roguelands, in what used to be a city called Twin Rivers, now nothing but a husk of what it was twenty or so years ago when Ryatt and Ella were young, that same river is angry and narrow, full of rapids and rock. Sydney stands beside me as I watch the water–the shattered ruins of bridges running across it at several points. And the rowboat fighting the rapids. Sydney straightens, narrowing his eyes at the group of warriors shouting at the few men inside the boat who are shouting back for help as the rapids send the boat lurching in a circle. The women on board scream–shrill and terrified. “There’s a child on that boat,” Sydney growls under his breath, gripping my arm fo
MistyI fell asleep curled around Cole in the late hours of the night. He’d laid me in bed, and I’d immediately pulled him back to me, not ready to give him up just yet.I can’t tell myself this doesn’t mean anything anymore. This feeling–this overwhelming ache–isn’t growing weaker, and I’m desperate for a way to keep him.I drew lines over his chest and stomach as we fell asleep in each other’s arms, the sheets tangled and pushed to the edge of the bed, listening to the rain pour over Oasia.But I wake up to Cole sitting straight up in bed.I rub my eyes, blinking into the darkness. “What’s wrong?”He shushes me, his body rigid as he scans the room.Fear creeps through my body. My heart skips a beat as he slowly, silently, slides out of bed and pulls on his discarded pants, fastening his belt. Still, he looks around, his eyes
ColeMisty slides out of bed, uneasy on her feet. She paces a few steps, stretching her arms over her head with a sigh.I watch, and wait, for her answer. I’m not totally sure why I asked if she wanted to try to shift. Maybe it’s because I’m actively plotting a way to get her out, and if my plan fails, she’s going to need to run.“I’m not ready,” she says, matter-of-factly.“That’s fine.”She looks down at her hands. “I don’t feel any changes yet. Nothing. Is that normal?”I sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, that’s perfectly normal. Most wolves don’t come into their shifter powers until the day of their twenty-first birthday, sometimes a few days before, or a few days after,” I remind her.She sighs, picking at the fabric of her pale cream nightgown. It hugs her body in a way that has my mouth going dr
MistyI’m dreaming. I know this is a vision–a glimpse into life happening far, far away. I think I love this power the most. I think I’m somewhere on the far northern coast of Crescent Falls, near the border with Celestoria. It’s definitely one of the fog-soaked islands–an obscure, rural pack territory. I stand on a hill overlooking a cottage. Yellow, winter grass hugs the little house, smoke rising from its chimney. A young woman with mousy-brown hair steps outside, bundled in a coat, hiking a messenger bag over her shoulder as she turns back to the door and smiles, saying something to the woman standing just out of view within. Then, I’m following the young woman as she walks toward the village. She smiles at a few people and wolves she passes. Her eyes are a soft gray–Cole’s eyes. This is his sister, Annabel. This is where she lives now. I watch as she steps into the yard of a single story stone building. Children dart in the brisk, cool winter air, chasing a ball around. Othe
ColeMisty shivers in my arms as I stare at Lavender. “What did you just say?”“The Umbra Mortis just arrived,” she says slowly, her eyes wide with panic. “He’s coming here–to the castle. Any minute now.”My life flashes before my eyes. He can’t see Misty like this. He can’t find out Misty just broke the curse in Lacey, either. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck–” It takes all of my strength to lay Misty in the bed gently instead of tossing her like a rag doll. Lavender quickly takes over redressing her in a nightgown while I run around the room, opening closets and pulling drawers from the dresser, searching for anything to throw over her nearly frozen body. I rush into the bathroom and swiftly change into dry clothes.“What happened?” Lavender hisses as we hurriedly tuck several blankets around Misty. Misty shivers uncontrollably, her teeth chattering so loud I’m worried they’ll break. I fish in the blankets for her arm and take a deep breath before going completely still, my fingers locked on her
MistyThe room is dark but clean. In fact, the curtains are drawn against the sun, and Orion has to turn on a lamp, which barely floods the room in muted light. There’s a single bed in the corner, the blankets bunched around a… woman. Chains rustle as she sits up, turning sightless green eyes in my direction, and I…I turn away, bracing my hands on the wall as nausea drags me under. Cole’s behind me, leaning down as his hand rests on my lower belly, splayed wide. “You don’t have to do this.”“Why is she wearing a muzzle?” I bite out, my eyes watering from the effort of trying to stop myself from throwing up out of rage. The chains rattle as the woman begins to keen. “Lacey, it’s all right. I’ve brought a friend to see you. She might make you feel better.” Orion’s footsteps sound somewhere behind us. Lacey cries out in a mutated voice that sounds like talons being dragged across a chalkboard. My body lurches with nausea again, my healing powers already buzzing over my skin, sensin
ColeOrion paces across the row of windows overlooking the city. Sun bathes the blue roofs, but in the distance, storm clouds gather on the horizon. Storms aren’t uncommon this time of year. They’re vicious, though. Flooding is common–something we need to count on. So on top of… on top of pretending to be a war lord while simultaneously trying to force the Alphas in my kingdom to get their people out, and to the border, before I start a real war with Richard… I have to deal with the people who won’t leave and ensure they’re safe when the rain starts. “I want warriors in the city center ready to rescue those who’re ignoring the warnings to evacuate to higher ground tonight,” I murmur, running my hand down my face. Orion watches the storm, sighing, “It might not be as bad as we’re anticipating.”“It always is,” Commander Abernathy, Luke’s father, says from his perch on a couch nearby. “Maybe the flood will wash away Richard’s forces lingering in the city. You know none of those men h
MistyA freakin’ week has passed in my confinement. To say I’m losing my mind is the least of it. On the first day in Oasia, I lost my mind and body to Cole, spending the night beside him–learning the secrets of his body until the sheets smelled like us, and we slumped into a dead kind of sleep. But that was a week ago. In between, I’ve been pacing the apartment, slowly fading into the wallpaper, watching wolves dart around the courtyard a few stories below. Everyday is the same. I wake up–alone. I eat breakfast by myself. Lavender–a pretty, middle-aged woman–comes to dress me in beautiful dresses that cover nearly every inch of my skin–not that I’m going anywhere, though. She hasn’t spoken a word to me, and she barely looks me in the eye. Yesterday, Georgia finally came to see me. Apparently, she’s been hoarded away as well, but Declan keeps her company. Luke is in the same boat. Alone, well fed and well dressed, but otherwise occupied with a special project Cole bestowed upon him,
MistyCole backs me against the doorframe, his body curling over mine to chase my mouth as I lower my feet to the floor. The memory of our kiss from the party weeks ago clogs my brain for several delicious seconds. He tastes the same. Warm and minty. His lips are soft but demanding as his tongue slides over my lower lip, beckoning for me to open for him. The towel covering my body is holding on by a thread as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me up, pinning me against the doorframe and pressing his body to mine. My hand drags down his back, leaving a trail of my healing powers. He trembles, and the kiss turns to something hungry and… wild. “Stop healing me,” he breathlessly commands. “No,” I counter, but his mouth steals the word from my lips. It doesn’t strike me that we should stop. There’s no reason for this. This attraction, this bone-shattering need I’ve felt since we slept together for the first time–as quick and cold as that was. Maybe it’s morbid curiosity. Maybe i