*Isla*I am underwater.How I got here, I don’t understand, but that’s where I am.It’s odd, though. It’s like I can breathe just fine under the water, like I have shifted, but not into the wolf I’m meant to have. No, I have shifted into something aquatic, like a fish.I can’t see my own form as I press along underneath this rapidly moving body of water. Rather, I am only aware of what is around me—the green algae growing up from the rocky muddy depths beneath my feet, the large rocks that lay in piles strewn all around me, the occasional fish that shoots by in front of me.Water—lots and lots of murky greenish-brown water.“Where am I?” I ask, but not aloud. If I open my mouth, this dirty water will fill my up until I am sputtering. No, it is an internal question. I don’t know the answer, but I don’t think this is the ocean.I think it must be a river of some sort because of how quickly the current is moving and how it is flowing from right to left in a nearly straight line like it i
*Maddox*“Where does this pipe go?”Bill Bixby is standing near me, staring at the pipe, wearing a robe over his pajamas, his hair disheveled, and is eyes barely focusing.“This is the drain pipe,” he says. “It lets the unusable water back out into the river.”I stare at him for a moment. “So this doesn’t reach the spring where the water that’s used for the bottling comes from?” I have to clarify.“No, no, no,” he says. “We can turn this pipe in reverse to make the water flow the other direction. We do that from time to time to bring in more water to run the machinery and keep it cool, but for the most part, this pipe flows into the river, not the other way around.”“Where does the water come into the plant?” I ask.“Over there.” He points into the distance where I can see a large pipe that actually goes into the ground. “The spring isn’t under the river. It’s under the ground there, and it flows into the location of the river through an underground tributary. So we catch the spring w
*Isla*I fall back into a dreamless, restless sleep after Poppy assures me that she has spoken to Maddox and relayed the information I had given her.I don’t know why I am suddenly dreaming about what’s happening with other people, people I am not related to and have no connection to, but I am certain that what I saw was real, not just a regular dream spurred on by everything that has happened to me today.A few hours after my conversation with Poppy, I feel a shift in the bed and slit my eyes to see what is happening. Part of me wants to react with panicked fear that I am being attacked again, but I am too tired for that.Thankfully, that is not the case.It is Maddox.He is slipping into bed next to me, and while I am too tired, and it is too dark, for me to see exactly what he has on, when I rest my hand on his chest, it is bare.“I’m sorry I woke you, beautiful,” he whispers, his warm lips pressing against my forehead.“It’s okay,” I manage to get out before I roll onto his chest.
*Maddox*I should have told Isla I love her, too, but I didn’t.A million reasons why that isn’t a good idea flock my mind as I hold her in my arms, looking down at her beautiful face.I want her to know that I love her more than anything, that I will do whatever I can to protect her, but I know that she is in a dangerous position because she loves me. Clearly, that has been demonstrated in the past few days when Zabrina and her minions tried to kill her.Promising her that she is completely safe now would be foolish and dishonest of me. I want to do everything I can to protect her, and I will, but having just failed her, I find it impossible to know for certain I can do that.I couldn’t even protect Rebecca from herself.Isla isn’t sure how to respond to my statement, and I can’t blame her. I lean down and kiss the top of her head and then slide from the bed. “I need to go,” I tell her. I find my boxers and put them back on.“Are you going to look for Zabrina some more?” she asks me
*Maddox*We arrive in the village less than twenty minutes after we left the castle. I see the dive shop I’ve been told about pretty quickly and ask Beta Seth to pull into a parking spot not far from the front door. It’s still fairly early in the morning, and most of the activity around the shops is centered around the coffeehouse and the bakery—not the dive shop, which doesn’t even look to be open.I will not let that deter me.Hopping out of the car, I make my way to the door and try it. I’m relieved that it is unlocked, despite the fact that the lights are not in, and there being no sign in the window that says, “Open.”In fairness, and in my defense, there’s no “Closed” sign either.When the chime above the door dings, I hear an aggravated sigh from the back of the shop and have to assume that whoever is working this morning would prefer not to have any customers.That makes me glad I’m not intending to give them any money.Despite the humor I would find in making Beta Seth dive d
*Isla*My head is a little fuzzy when I open my eyes later that morning after Maddox has left. I run a hand through my hair and stretch my other hand over to the bed where his body had been. It’s not even warm anymore.I sit up, slowly. I still don’t feel completely right after everything I went through yesterday, but I feel a little better than I did before I went back to sleep.I remember what he said about calling my parents. Should I even bother to do that? Alpha King Maddox has explained to me why he thinks it’s worth it, but I’m not sure he really understands how Willow pack works. If it’s true that Alpha Ernest is no longer in power, that doesn’t mean that he won’t find someone to let him out of prison. He’s a little worm, and he has people working for him that Maddox would’ve never suspected wouldn’t be loyal to him.I have to wonder, as I sit there pondering everything that’s happened recently, how many people truly are loyal to Maddox?It’s not something that’s ever crossed
*Maddox*I get out of the car in front of Alpha Bryant Logan of Hill Country packs mansion. It’s huge, though it’s no castle. Still, it looks a lot more modern than the place I live in, a lot homier.As I make my way up the long path to the door, I daydream about downsizing a bit but getting something where the electrical wires are actually in the walls instead of along them since my castle was built about four hundred years ago before electricity was even an idea.Beta Seth clears his throat behind me, and I know he’s nervous. He always does that when he’s uncomfortable. I turn and look at him, and he adjusts his tie like maybe it’s choking him a little.“It’s just Alpha Bryant,” I remind him. “He’s on our side.”Seth nods, but I know he doesn’t quite believe that. I don’t either, but we’re here. We may as well see what the fuck he wants.Besides, I have to think he’s not choosing to side with Maple pack over me. If he was, he never would’ve let me know what he’d found along the rive
*Isla*I try to process what my mom is saying to me, but something about her words isn’t computing. I’m not sure why. What did I expect her to say? Yes, she did use to be the queen of an island kingdom called Maatua, and yes, I used to be a princess?I mean, it’s not as if I really expected what Mystica said to be true. What are the changes, really, that my family is from royalty? For most of my life, I’ve required safety pins to keep my socks up. That doesn’t exactly sound like the princess life.Still… there’s something about my mother’s tone that makes me think she’s not being completely straightforward with me. Her voice has that little quiver to it like it did when she told Ben that his cat went to live on a farm outside of the city. I had seen the cat’s body lying by the side of the road earlier that day, so I knew that Otis wasn’t going to live out a peaceful life chasing mice in a barn. Otis was dead.Mom wasn’t a good liar.“Oh, you’ve never heard of the place at all?” I ask
AvivaSilverhide is in absolute chaos. I race toward the packhouse, still wearing pajamas, of course, but yielding my gilded bow, sending my arrow flying toward the molted beast trying to get inside. Claw marks mar the door–vicious and wide–and the beast, once a wolf, I believe, but now sporting four rows of massive, sharp teeth and multiple eyes, thrusts its entire weight against the door, causing the wall around it to splinter on impact. My arrow pierces the small of its pack through and through before whizzing back to me. I catch it, prime my bow, and send it flying again. This hellhound… it’s fresh. There’s nothing old and tired about it. Magic pours off its body, and blood stains its mouth and claws. People are screaming inside the packhouse. People–mostly women and children–who’d been enjoying their breakfast before this creature came over the valley to rain terror on my pack. If I’d left the packhouse only a few minutes earlier, I would have known why Ryan and Evander weren
MistyI snatch Addy from Kenna’s arms and break into a sprint, Aviva hot on my heels. Kenna’s voice behind us, calling out to her kids, fades as I burst through the doors of the packhouse and race across the village. The healer’s cottage rises ahead, but my lungs are burning when I finally reach the front door, which is ajar, and shove my way inside. The smell of herbs and spices hangs in the air… but that’s it. The cottage is totally empty. “Hello?” I shout, clutching Addy for dear life as dread overwhelms my senses. “Cole?!”Aviva skids to a stop behind me, panting. “Where are the guys?”“I have no idea,” I tell her, scanning the room. There’s a single door along the wall, tucked between two ceiling height bookshelves full of jars and small wooden boxes likely filled with more herbs. Aviva hisses in frustration and turns for the door, murmuring something about finding Ryan and Evander, and leaves me in the cottage alone. I step toward the worktable, noticing the fine coating of
MistyCole moves through our little kitchen in a hurry. He practically jumped out of bed this morning, grunting and bumping into the dresser and the doorframe in his haste to get dressed. It’s not even light yet, and the usual dense morning fog that swirls through the village hasn’t yet lifted, but Cole is making so much noise that Addy wakes up in a fuss, his little face twisted as he begins to wail in my arms. I’ve been up with him for an hour now, at least. Cole, who’s been amazing with divvying up the nighttime wakings so we each get a few hours of sleep, didn’t even stir. In fact, when I rose from bed to take Addy out of his crib, Cole rolled over and covered his head with his pillow. I shouldn’t be angry, but I am. He acted strange all night–distant, and quiet. More quiet than usual, I should say. It was like he was in a trance, and after an hour of trying to talk to him when he returned from dinner at the packhouse, he’d simply laid down in bed and passed out cold. I hate t
AvivaI barely slept that night. Actually, I didn’t sleep at all. I paced the living wishing for the first time since Lexa was born that she’d stop sleeping through the night to give me something to focus on other than the fact Logan saw two white wolves. Sure, some wolves have white fur. Like Sarah, for one. Misty, too, is a pale gold, but neither of them have sightless, silver eyes. Another chill snakes up my spine as I pace across the living room again, rubbing my eyes. I did my best to convince Logan he’d seen some of our pack members, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that’s not the case. The last time I saw two white wolves was before the war, and I now consider them a warning. A warning of things to come, of trials coming my way, of the threat of death. Part of me hopes it was just Maddox and Isla paying us a visit, but the creeping sensation in my chest makes me think otherwise. I don’t have powers. I don’t have visions. But I see these fuckers when no one else can…
AvivaTo say I’m relieved to be home is an understatement. Our group is greeted with enthusiasm, especially after it’s revealed that we snagged enough deer and elk to see us through nearly the entire winter, and a huge banquet is held in celebration. Notably absent from the dinner is Misty. Lexa sleeps peacefully in my lap while my gaze drifts across the packhouse. I sweep past Ryan to a new face in the crowd. Well, not entirely new, but new to the dinner held here every night. Kyra, wearing a dark green cloak, stands close enough to Cole that I feel a sudden jolt of unease as she reaches into her cloak and pulls out a vial, pressing it into his hands. Cole nods in thanks, but the line between his brows is evident. He looks like he’s in pain as he turns away from her, his skin slightly pale and eyes watering enough that I feel myself rising from the bench in an effort to walk over and ask what’s wrong, but then he turns back to the conversation he was having with a group of men an
MistyCole groans against my neck as I reach between, running my hand down his chest to the deep V of the muscles of his waist. He kisses me again, hungerly this time, his tongue sweeping over mine in a slow dance that has sparkles of pleasure rippling over my skin. I sigh against his mouth as he grinds his hips against mine, rocking us back and forth, his hands drifting down my sides and settling on my ass with a squeeze. He slides his hand beneath my shirt, revealing how naked I already am. “I didn’t bring any pajamas,” I admit, my voice pitched with excitement as he smiles against my lips. There’s no panties in his way tonight. A dull, throbbing ache radiates through my lower belly. My inner folds are already slick as he drags his fingers through them, lowering his head against my shoulder and trembling with anticipation. “Fuck, Misty, you’re soaking wet.”I close my eyes and arch when he presses two fingers inside of me, his thumb stroking slow, teasing circles over my clit. I
Misty“Aviva, stop!” I shout as she begins to turn toward the woods, her bow raised and arrow primed and ready. My powers ignite, stronger than they’ve ever been, and explode through the clearing in bright, blue light that sizzles into the ground. I swear, somewhere deep in the swirling, blue ether, I hear what sounds like a lock clicking–like I’ve just jammed a key into a padlock and wrenched on it until it turned–and then the ground shakes violently, a crushing, grinding sound beginning to echo through the clearing. Red eyes appear near the tree line–three sets–barreling toward us. Aviva roars as she pulls back on her arrow again, but then she… disappears with a surprised scream. “Aviva?!” I shout, then choke on her name as the ground beneath me falls away. My powers burn out. I’m falling through the darkness, reaching blindly for anything to grab onto. Something beneath me hits the ground with a crunch, and then I’m landing on top of the object, which turns out to be Aviva. We
MistyLogan is quite gaunt. That’s the first thing I notice as I linger in the doorway of the healer’s cottage, watching Cole check Logan’s ears. Cole is amazing with kids, and it shows, because Logan cracks a smile at something Cole says and Aviva interprets. But Cole’s eyes are heavy with concern when he turns away from the boy, his eyes scanning his notes before closing his notebook and setting it on the counter. Aviva, wearing Lexa on her back, takes Logan’s hand and leads him out of the healer’s cottage, closing the door behind her. I watch through the window as they walk away, into the rolling, morning fog. It’s a chilly late summer morning–the first truly cold morning since we arrived last week. It’s been four days since almost everyone fell ill, but thankfully that’s over. And, Kyra isn’t here right now. She’s off doing something in Endova, according to Cole and Ryan. I feel immediately more relaxed in her absence. “So? Is he going to live?” I try to tease to break the t
Aviva“What’s your name?” I ask in the old tongue as I lead the boy through one of the pastures, shoving chest-height strands of wheat to the side to give us a path.He doesn’t speak for a while. I don’t press him for information, either. The fact that he’s following me is enough.“Logan,” he says after a moment, his voice calm and cool like the breeze coming off the rolling hills in the distance.“How old are you?”“Twelve.”“I thought so.” I look at him over my shoulder, smiling, but he doesn’t return the gesture. Dark circles line his eyes, and he’s incredibly thin, even for a boy his age, who all seem to be gangly and lanky. His dark, nearly black hair is pin straight and sticks up at all angles, rustling in the breeze, and he’s pale with freckles across the bridge of his nose.A scar wraps fr