*Ella*The twisting sensation in my stomach is at a peak as my boots crunch over glass, then something… crackly in a thick, nauseating way that leaves me totally unsettled. I pull my foot back and look down then let out a sigh of relief. Not a bone. Not someone’s mangled arm. Just someone's old cloak, I think. I look over my shoulder at the fog rising from the river that separates Rifthold from the Roguelands. We crossed the river this morning by boat, and it had been a perilous, rocky ride, to say the least. The way my legs tremble as I carefully pick my way through scattered debris has nothing to do with the treacherous journey across the river, however. Ryatt is standing a few paces in front of me talking to Westfall in low tones, Granger at their side. The early morning fog is beginning to lift, showing the devastation of the once great, but evil, lair of Kane and his forces. I truly destroyed everything. I really did. Rifthold is nothing but toppled buildings coated in ash, a
RyattI’m not surprised by the warm welcome we receive. I’m also not surprised by the lush apartment Ella, Granger, and I are led into after a long walk in the unfiltered, sand-filled heat. The luxury of this place–Oasia–doesn’t shock me, nor Granger. No, we don’t expect anything less from Jaxon. He’s always liked the finer things, and finally, after groveling in the trenches his entire life, he has the means to make his wildest dreams come true. The village of Oasia is a sprawling network of white stone that spreads out for over a mile, all of the buildings interconnected by tunnels built beneath the sand. At its center sits an oasis, hence the name, the only true source of water for miles. This spring is where he gets his power. He controls the water in Tarsian, so he is king. This is an empire I’m almost envious of. The sheer wealth of this territory–the mines, the gems, the stones–would be enough to completely rebuild the Roguelands and allow my people to live in opulence. Bu
EllaThis is fucked up, and I am pissed off. I readjust my position in the ridiculously comfortable, high-backed throne I’ve been seated in and curl my fingers around my knee. Hot sunshine beats down into a pit of shallow sand that’s currently being raked while the people arriving to witness my mate’s battle find seats in the stands. Above me, a pergola protects those sitting in the “royal box” from the sun, and before me is a beautifully decorated table full of food. Fine, sparkling wine glistens in the sunlight. Platters of exotic fruit, pastries, and cold meats sit untouched. I’m not hungry. I couldn’t eat even if I wanted to. Not when my blood is boiling, and it has nothing to do with the unforgiving dry heat. I glance around and spot Granger on the far side of the box looking grim as he watches the men raking the pit. White sand that reminds me of Maatua has been spread over the coarse, golden sand surrounding Oasia. I figure it’s so everyone in attendance for today’s event w
EllaThe crowd is hissing, booing, and screaming curses down at my mate. Ryatt looks around, panting, his shoulders rigid despite the welts covering his skin. Jaxon is still staring at me, but my attention is stolen by several people trying to climb down into the pit. A tremor of panic shudders through the entire arena. “Alpha Jaxon, you need to get him out of there,” I say hurriedly, turning back to the Alpha of Oasia, the man who just lost the crown of Eastonia to my mate. But suddenly I feel cool metal against my neck and freeze.“Play along,” Jaxon rasps along the shell of my ear before yanking me upright so violently I shriek in alarm. Below, Ryatt’s face has turned from grim amusement to absolute rage as he spots Jaxon with his hands on me and a blade to my neck. “If you shift, she dies,” Jaxon taunts as warriors race out into the pit, shoving delirious onlookers out of the way before they can get to my mate. “Ella!” Granger screams my name over the chaos erupting all aro
RyattGranger returns three hours after Ella slumped into a restless slumber in my arms. His golden wolf appears at the edge of the clearing I’ve been sitting in, unable to even blink, my mind and heart in shambles. How could I have been so stupid? So desperately, unapologetically unaware of how hard this kind of travel would be on Ella in her state? She whispers something in her sleep, her face buried in my shirt. For the last two hours she’s been jerking awake and calling out for a little girl, of all things. She asks what her name is, over and over, each time the question leaves her lips it becomes more pleading. She’s in pain. While our bond isn’t strong enough to feel those changes and emotions in my own body, I can smell it on her. I can smell the changes taking place in her body as the minutes speed by. “Granger,” I say hoarsely. My unused voice sounds like someone has taken a rake over my vocal chords.Granger shifts back to his human form and quickly pulls on a pair of pa
RyattI don’t know the name of this village or the pack. I barely spoke more than three words to the Beta before being ushered out of the village and into a heavily wooded area high above the village proper. A small stone cabin sits in the center of a clearing, flanked by a few out buildings. Smoke puffs from the chimney as I approach the cottage with my hands curled into fists at my sides. I try to tell myself that everything is going to be fine, but Granger and I are alone in this. My men–my commanders, generals, and warriors–are currently spread out between here and Veiled Valley. Everyone is on standby, waiting for whatever conflict might have come when we faced off with Jaxon. I’m too far out of mind-link range to connect with any of my commanders to tell them the situation has changed. I push open the door and step inside the dusty cottage. It’s a single room–wide and nearly empty save for a bed in its center and a few cabinets and chairs. An elderly woman is yelling at a vil
Ryatt“What did you just say to me?” I have to force the words out. My ears ring with Ella’s whimpering. Her suffering is the only thing taking up space in my head. I can’t think straight. “You’ll lose the Luna if something isn’t done immediately,” the healer says sharply, waving her knife in Ella’s direction. “I can stop the bleeding with herbs, but it will kill the babe. Or, I cut the child from her womb. You decide, Alpha King. Your Luna or the baby?”“Ryatt!” Ella’s voice is thick with despair. “Don't–please! Don’t let her hurt the baby! I–she can’t be born yet. She’s not ready; it’s too soon!” I slowly tear my gaze from the healer to my mate and feel what’s left of my heart shatter to pieces in my chest. Ella is bleeding out. The sheets and mattress are black with her blood. Her skin is clammy and gray as she clutches the blood-damp sheets and throws her head from side to side in agony.“Please, Ryatt. Please–”“Alpha!” the healer shouts. “She will die if you don’t make a deci
EllaBright light. A soft, warm breeze that smells sharply of pine and cedar. Somewhere in the distance a soft, delicate voice sings a beautiful song–a lullaby. A baby whimpers and is gently shushed. I feel hands grazing down my arms. The scent of honeysuckle and lavender fills the air, and birdsong echoes in my ears. I snuggle deeper into the warmth penetrating my back. Ryatt’s scent brushes over my senses like a loving embrace. Deep in my chest, in my soul, that thread that binds us together sings with satisfaction. His scent is sharper than before. It’s everything I love. Everything that sets my soul aflame…I jolt to awareness, and I’m blinking frantically to clear my vision. Murmuring male voices cut through the lullabies and birds singing, and suddenly I’m in an unfamiliar cottage made of dark stone, the windows open to reveal a landscape of towering pine trees and rolling mountains capped with snow. They’re people standing outside of the cabin dressed in warrior leathers. I
MistyI follow Cole through his… apartment, I guess. The layout of these suites is remarkably like the Firestone castle in Moonrise where my family has their own apartments within the castle. But this place is practically empty. Dusty and stale. If he has personal objects, they’re not here.I creep behind him, careful to keep at least a few feet of distance between us as he leads me into a bedroom that… smells like him.I hadn’t noticed before–his scent. It’s very clean and brisk. It’s hard to describe. I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I’m looking at his perfectly made bed–so perfect I wonder if he’s ever even slept in it.“Sit down,” he commands… gently, at least.“Why?”“Because you need stitches, and you’re very short. I don’t want to have to bend down the whole time.”“
MistyThe next morning, I’m summoned by Declan and his cronies. Dressed in my favorite brand of athletic shorts and a tanktop–my school uniform, basically–I walk steadily behind them, in iron chains over my silver manacles, and Declan keeps his distance.I’m hungry and tired but curious about what comes next, especially after last night. Georgia seemed okay this morning–quiet, a little dazed–but that’s expected. I’m sure reality hit her as we ate bland oatmeal together in the warm sunlight streaming through the windows that bathed the dust all over our apartment in gold.I feel chipper and ready to commit murder, however. Which is my plan. I feel like I’ll give Declan a pass, though, at least for now, since I damn near bit his cheek off yesterday. Still, I size up the two men standing at my sides. Gregory, an art history student, like Georgia, has dark skin and short, black hair. He&
MistyI pace in front of a set of wooden double doors. They’re etched with sweeping designs that’re a near perfect match to the doors littered throughout the castle in Moonrise. This place–this apartment within the castle–it’s beautiful. At least, it was likely very beautiful once. Everything is covered in dust as it stands. The glass vases scattered across nearly every surface probably held bouquets of tropical flowers at one point. Books used to line every shelf. Silk and satin draped over the massive canopy of the four poster bed in the main bedroom, I’m sure, and the bed was covered by silk sheets that smelled like rose oil, freshly cleaned.Now, this apartment is a shell with ancient furniture and cheap, slightly ratty linens covering the beds, chairs, and old couches.But I haven’t really explored, not while my mind races. Where is Georgia? How do I get out and find her? I’ll escape
ColeShe’s exactly what I hoped she’d be.Beautiful, sure. I knew she’d be beautiful. The soft, ocean blue of her eyes reminds me of the sky in the early mornings, when stars still dance toward the horizon until they’’re chased away by the sun. She’s dainty and graceful. She’s exactly what a princess should be, as long as she doesn’t open her fucking mouth… but she needs to keep talking. She needs to keep pissing off the Umbra Mortis. She’s the perfect distraction.I hate that I need her.I hate that she showed how useful she could be when she unleashed her powers in the library because she’s just as trapped as I am now. But she might be our only hope. My only hope.I sink behind the desk in the sliver of personal space I've managed to carve out for myself in this massive fortress built in the dead center of the desert. We’re hundreds of m
MistyDrip. Drip. Drip.I open my eyes to darkness, blinking it away. My body aches like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, but I’m alive. I’m alive, and in a dungeon.I rise to my knees, crawling to the bars that separate me from a dingy, damp hallway lit by flickering torches.I hesitate before gripping the bars, but it’s iron, not silver, thank the Goddess. I’m not sure how much more I can take… wait a minute.I lift my wrists to the torchlight. Twin silver bands–wide, and seamless–hug each wrist. They’re no chains between them. Nothing keeping me bound to the wall. Manacles. I immediately try to pull them off, but I can’t. It doesn’t hurt, though. I wedge a pinky between my skin and the manacle on my left wrist and feel… leather? Some type of barrier between the silver and my skin.Still, even without the silver restin
AvivaI’ve never been to Crescent Falls before. I imagined something different than quiet, somber hallways and hushed murmurs. I guess, in any other circumstance, we would have been able to drive here in a real car from the border with Eastonia, taking several days to travel through the sweeping plains of Moorn before reaching the mountainous, sprawling mecca of the capitol while Ryan told me stories about growing up in this fascinating place but that’s… not how this is happening.We arrived an hour ago to chaos. Now, I pace behind a couch, watching my mate lean into conversation with his twin brother Sydney and their father, Alpha King Isaac. Ryatt, the Alpha King of Eastonia, isn’t here. Neither is his wife and mate, Ella, Ryan’s aunt.Evander’s here, however, and he keeps stealing glances in my direction while I do my best to fade into Maddy’s floral wallpaper.One second, I&rsq
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
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
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