*Isla*Seth’s body swings from the noose, the rope around his neck taunt as he body drifts in a soft breeze. I didn’t want to come back here after the hanging took place. A day has passed since the hanging, and I spent most of the morning in the castle, alone, waiting for Maddox to return. He’d stayed out here all night. I watch as my mate walks toward me, his face drawn and flooded with an emotion I’ve never seen behind his eyes. I can’t describe it, even if I try to put myself in his shoes and imagine what my grief and despair would be like had Poppy ever betrayed me like Seth did to Maddox. I adjust Isaac’s weight in my arms, smiling empathetically as Maddox nears, his expression softening as we step out of the shadow of a towering oak tree to greet him. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here to find me,” he says, brushing a kiss over my forehead. “I was going to come home.”“I was worried about you,” I reply, leaning into him. Isaac stirs between us, cooing as Maddox’s
Poppy clutches the back of the couch, her freshly manicured fingernails gleaming in the light of the antique chandelier hanging over our heads. I wait to say anything until I hear Ben and Maddox’s footsteps recede down the hallway and out of earshot. Then, I turn to her, sighing as I meet her eyes and ask, “Is this what you want?”“Yes,” she replies with finality, giving me a soft smile. “I love him, Isla. He loves me. And based on what happened today–” she sighs heavily, her eyes glassy with sudden emotion. “The Goddess has been looking out for us, hasn’t she? She let Mystica give you a final, although extremely strange, gift of a vision before she died peacefully with us surrounding her. And she led me to my mate, despite all odds. I want to be with him, even if that means I have to leave your side.”“You’ll also have a home here,” I say softly, trying not to cry. Today has been… very hard. Very sad. Very trying. My body feels wasted with grief as I lower myself onto a chaise, cross
*Maddox*Elijah peers at the map on my desk, his hands tucked behind his back. His hazel eyes shine in the gray light pouring through the windows–another rainy, foggy, overcast day. We’re over the heat of the summer now. I’m thankful for it. It was an especially brutal summer, but given the brutality of the last year, I’m not surprised in the slightest. Ben sits in a chair nearby, flipping through a pamphlet I gave him. He looks up at me, arching a brow. For a moment, he looks like the male counterpart to my mate, that expression so much like Isla’s when she’s thoroughly suspicious of something. “It’s the most prestigious university in the packlands. I went there. Isaac will go there. And, you will too, if it’s what you want.” I watch as Ben flips a page and begins to read about the paths of study the Wellington Crest Institute offers. He could study law, history, art… or go the warrior route, but I doubt Ben would enjoy that rigorous course of study. I see him lingering on the his
*Isla*I lean forward, stretching out my front legs. Shifting feels euphoric, and Maddox is totally right about the fact that I need to do it more. Plus, I have two hours to myself. Well, myself, and Elijah. He stalks behind me, a massive black wolf with gleaming hazel eyes. His coat is thick but marred by scars, giving me a glimpse of his sordid past. For the past hour, he’s been following behind me but keeping distance between us, letting me take the lead. We’ve been weaving through the forest for some time now, but I come to stop at the towering oak tree overlooking the bluff that gives us a sweeping view of the lands below, small villages and towns glimmering in the early morning sunlight. I sit back on my haunches, staring absently over the bluff. The flowers we planted over the freshly turned soil atop Mystica’s grave tremble in the cool morning breeze. Poppy and I had chosen perennials, so they’d grow back every year. I’d planted roses behind her headstone that would one day
*Maddox*“Are you going to be a good girl for me while I’m gone,” I rasp into her ear. We’re covered in sweat, and I’ve been drawing out every minute of the last hour to make this last as long as possible for both of us. I’ve made Isla come at least three times, but I’m not done with her yet. It could be months before I see her again. “Probably not,” she whimpers, but her mouth curves into a devilish smile. I thrust into her, hard, and she arches her back, crying out softly as I continue to drag my cock in and out in a desperately slow motion. Her nails have left long red scratches down my back that I’ll feel for weeks. I hope I do. I hope I taste her on my tongue and smell her scent on my skin until the day I return home. “Please, Maddox,” she whispers, her nails digging into my sides. “I’m so close!”I pick up the pace, reaching between us to circling my thumb over her clit in a way I know will have her screaming my name in a matter of seconds. I rise up so I’m kneeling over her
*Isla*Maddox left Elijah with me, of course. It’s his responsibility as Beta to rule in Maddox’s place when he’s away. While I like Elijah and have come to appreciate his quiet presence in the house, I miss Maddox. It’s been almost three weeks since he left. We’ve spoken on the phone a few times, but a lot of the time he’s been out of range, and I’ve gone days without hearing from him. Elijah was also called away on a super secret mission during this time and came back in a huff. He was injured, too, scraped and bruised and in a piss poor mood for days. Trinity and I agreed to secretly press him about it, with Trinity doing the dirty work and me listening to whatever Trinity could find out about Elijah’s uncharacteristically emotional mood, but he was keeping his mate in the dark despite her most convincing efforts.It’s been an odd few weeks, to say the least. “He should be home soon, right?” Trinity asks from across the dining room table. She bounces Isaac on her knee, who is b
The girl standing before me is not what I expected. Emery stands, slowly clutching the bars as she peers at me through the darkness. The lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flickers as I pull up a stool and sit facing her, crossing my legs with my hands knitted in my lap. Elijah said not to let her out. I wonder why? I guess I’ll find out. I give her a minute to look me over. She doesn’t hide her curious gaze, unlike other people I’ve come in contact with lately. Hardly anyone looked me in the eyes during the Beta Trials, which was my first real event as Luna of the Alpha King. People shy away from me now, speaking to me only when I speak to them first, so on and so forth. “Alpha,” I say graciously, bobbing my head to her in greeting. She doesn’t startle. In fact, her full lips twitch into what is either an impressed, or sinister, smile. I can’t tell which. “Luna,” she says, but she doesn’t curtsy or bow. She grips the bars until her knuckles are white, like she’s trying to pry the
Seven Months Later…*Poppy*“What the hell is going on?” I hiss. I’m waddling as fast as I possibly can given how enormous I’ve become over the last few weeks. I feel like I’ve tripled in size–at least. What has also tripled in size is my attitude, according to Antony. He recently accused me of looking for a fight when I lost my mind over the last of the chocolate chunk ice cream with the brownie bits I liked being gone. In my defense, I’d been out of my mind with hunger and pregnancy cravings. In his defense, I had been the one to finish off the carton. That had been three weeks ago before all hell broke loose.My anger right now isn’t an exaggeration. Warriors rush through the castle as I stalk down the hallway toward his office and yank open the door. “Antony!”“My love,” he says with little emotion and an abundance of annoyance. “What happened to the warriors I had guarding your room?”“I killed them,” I deadpan, even though that’s far from the truth. I just screamed at them unt
LoganCaptain Louis watches me as I lean against the wall in the cockpit, looking through the manifest I picked up from the port master. I scan the document, memorizing every ship scheduled to leave the port tonight along with this yacht. The captain chuckles, turning back to the helm where he sits and begins pushing buttons that light up his control station. The second officer, Charlie, arrives, saying, “The crew’s been briefed. We’re just waiting for the green light from the port master.”“I doubt we’ll be moving anytime soon in this fog. It’ll be a long night.” Louis swivels back to me, arching a brow. “Commander Evander said you have some naval experience.”I look up from the manifest. “A bit.”“I was told you served for a few years under the Alpha King of Oasia in Serpentia, captaining a naval cruiser along their coast.”I run my tongue along my lower lip and tuck the manifest under my arm. “That’s correct.”Louis smirks, shaking his head as he turns to the controls again. “A ma
BrieI’m not sure if I’m experiencing sea sickness for the first time or if this horrible ache in my stomach is from the mutual rejection I just experienced. I should have been more prepared for this feeling, actually. I curse at myself while settled on a plastic bench, watching the startling green valley on either side of the wide river sprint by. Smaller towns and villages hug the river bank, everything nestled under the umbrella of control of Veiled Valley, forever protected by my family. One day, Aris will rule all of this. He’s the new Shadowsyner of the family–the one with those creepy shadow powers passed down by my grandfather, Ryatt, and my mother. I look down at my normal, powerless hands and curl them into fists, closing my eyes against the rolling nausea threatening to pull me to my hands and knees. I didn’t eat breakfast. I didn’t have the stomach for it, knowing I’d be thrust into a week-long journey with Logan, my mate. Not anymore. I slouch on the bench, leaning my
BrieI like to think I’m a faithful believer in the Moon Goddess. I never skip church. I celebrate Her holidays, say Her prayers, and dedicated at least ten years of my schooling to Her lore and scripture. I squint at the sky through my window in the tower, frowning at the moon. She’s up there laughing at me, isn’t She? Is She entertained by my predicament? The mate bond She ordained to ruin my plans? I sink onto the bench under the window and rest my arms on the windowsill, watching the clear, brilliant night sky slowly rotate over Veiled Valley. The buildings and bridges glisten in the moonlight, but across the lush, green valley, lights twinkle against a sea of emerald. The Fortress, as my siblings and I have called it since we got a grasp on vocal vocabulary, is nothing more than a big, square, gray block built out of the far mountainside. I’m sure it was a foreboding, albeit lovely, sight to look at way back in the day, millennia ago, when it was built, but now I’m glaring at
LoganI stare down at the words covering a single piece of pure-white paper. It’s my evening ritual these days, especially when I’m closeted away in this room, in these barracks, instead of in a tent or curled up in a ball in my wolf form somewhere in the rural Roguelands or desert of Tarsian. I glance at the two other letters beside the paper, both neatly folded, Lexa and Nora’s names written clearly, cleanly, just like Aviva expects. She taught me how to read and write in the language of Eastonia and Crescent Falls. She was strict about it, forcing me to spend hours working on my penmanship, drilling the translations into my skull until I began to think and even dream in the language of my new home. Even at nearly thirty, I still feel an obligation to check my work, to ensure the letters I send back to Silverhide are flawless, because Aviva still cares. She’s always cared about me. I’ve failed her in so many ways. I fold up the letter I intend to send out through the post to Si
BrieI can’t get out of this gown fast enough. I lean against the door of my bedroom to close it, praying the butter-white walls give me some sense of peace, but my heart is absolutely racing. I rip at my bodice, cursing under my breath as the satin fabric snags and squeals instead of just–of just coming off. I can’t breathe. I can’t force a breath past the painful squeezing sensation echoing through my lungs. I gasp, tugging at the fabric until the bodice finally gives way. I grip my knees, gulping down air. The room spins for several more seconds before slowing, but I feel…Totally, completely overcome. “This isn’t happening,” I rasp, rising up and leaning my weight against the door. “This isn’t happening.” I close my eyes against the view of the mountains peeking through the white curtains currently dancing in the warm breeze. Only when I find it easier to breathe do I move from the door, stepping out of my dress until I’m in nothing but the tight shapewear I stuffed myself in
Brie“He can’t be that bad, Brie,” Maeve hisses as she clutches the crook of my arm, leading us down one of the winding staircases in our castle in Veiled Valley. Sconces flare to life on their own accord, lighting our way. “Mom said he’s been dying to meet you, anyway. He’s a warrior, you know. They’re always so handsome.”I purse my lips as she tightens her grip. “You’re entertained at my expense.”“You don’t get to complain. You’re doing this to yourself!” Maeve throws her head back in a beautiful laugh that echoes down the corridor. Everything my little sister does is beautiful because she’s stunning. Beautiful of the drop-dead gorgeous variety. She’s also only eighteen, and I doubt she fully grasps what this meeting with the Alpha of Rainway, a nearby pack in the mountains bordering Veiled Valley, and his warrior son means.Mom and
Kenna“Stay close, okay?” I shout as the girls hurry ahead of me through the woven, interlocking streets of Moonrise. It’s insane how much things have changed in the last decade. I tuck my phone in my purse; change number one. Yes, Eastonia has cell-phone service after decades of back and forth, but we’ve finally come out of the stone-age and into modernity, which includes change number two. Brie yanks Maeve out of the way when a car comes barreling down the street, bumping over the cobblestone road. I lift a hand, waving at the careless driver. This area of the city is supposed to be pedestrian only, but not everyone follows the rules. “Mom, we’re going to be late!” Brie scolds, gripping Maeve’s forearm. “Quit dragging your feet! You’re going to scuff your shoes!”“Then I’ll get new ones,” eleven-year-old Maeve grins, rolling her sea-green eyes. The castle rises above us as the girls bicker back and forth. Brie, fifteen and so beautiful it hurts to look at her sometimes, throws me
Sarah“It isn’t that serious,” I tell Blake and Liam as they blink at me, their faces dappled with mud and their knees stained with grass. “But I’ve had enough of the fighting. You’re too old for this, especially you, Blake.” I fix my oldest son with a look I’ve had fourteen years to perfect.Blake, now a teenager, purses his lips and frowns. “He’s been harassing me all day–”“You were supposed to be helping me clean the garage,” Liam, thirteen, bites out. I feel the tension beginning to boil between them and clear my throat. “Both of you, enough.”“Mom–”“You’re both already grounded,” I edge, crossing my arms under my chest and arching a brow. “Do I need to add another week to your sentences? Or are you ready to behave like good little wolves and finish the chores Cosette laid out for you?”Liam grumbles under his breath. Blake mimics my stance, crossing his arms. We’re eye level at this point, and Liam isn’t far behind in the height department. Still, Ella and Maddy taught me thei
Aviva“Line up,” I whisper against ten-year-old Lexa’s ear. “Breathe in… release.” An arrow splits the cool spring air in two. A soft squeak whispers toward us as a squirrel falls from its perch on a nearby cottonwood tree. I squeeze her waist in silent congratulations while she beams, her dark-blue eyes wide and round. “Good job.” I grin, giving her a pat on the back. “Go get it.”Lexa takes off in a blur of red curls and homespun textiles in soft creams and browns that match the melting snow. In the distance, over the shadowed mountains, plumes of gray smoke stretch toward the first inklings of the sunset. Lexa bounds back to me, squirrel in hand. I tie it to her belt and help her put her bow back in her halter while seven-year-old Nora puts the finishing touches on the snowman she’s been building for the last hour.“Nora, come on!” Lexa calls out, motioning for her little sister to hurry up, but Nora has never listened to anyone in her life. I smile as the girls start to bicker b