This concludes the White Forest Series (for now!) If you have enjoyed this book I would really appreciate a review to encourage others to have a read - thank you so much for reading, it means the absolute world x
It has been a week since I was kidnapped. The first three days involved rolling around in the back of a van with a black cloth bag over my head. There were several other captives in with me although nobody dared talk much above a pained whimper. The stench of sweat and cigarettes warned us that at least one of the thugs was sitting in the back with us. Whilst we travelled, the buzz of the electric cattle prod against one wailing girl told me to bide my time. Struggling would not get me anything but injuries. Instead I tried to decipher the chatter of the drivers whenever my tied up body rolled close enough to listen. "Shame about the redhead from last month. I'd hoped she was left behind so I could have a go." "Get yourself in the Cage then, win one for yourself," a man with a throaty rasp answered. "Nah, I'm happy with sloppy seconds if I don't have to risk getting my throat ripped out," as a dirty, sleazy laugh followed. A wave of nausea hit me. “What do you think they do with
As they haul my bloodied carcass up from the cold terracotta floor the crowd's racket was deafening. "Eleven wins in a row!" "He didn't stand a chance!" “It’s not normal!” I groaned in agony, squinting into the floodlights as the blinding red mist that had consumed me slowly lifted. Whilst being pulled out of the Cage's pit I caught a glimpse of the lifeless, mangled wreckage of a body that was my opponent. Unfortunately I have no recollection of inflicting that much pain yet the metallic taste of blood in my mouth is indisputable. As are the agonising slashes across my bare ribcage. I have fought and won, again. "You'll get first pick of the prizes tonight my champ! Take them all if you want you fucking hero!" Vincent yelled over the baying crowd. "He's magnificent!" he yelled, parading me through the parting crowd like a racehorse. The stench of overheated men made my lip curl up in disgust, making them shout with delight. “He wants more, look at him!” Slaps on the back and
An hour later, standing around with the five other surviving fighters from this month’s Showcase we make a grisly scene. Our cuts, wounds, black eyes and bleeding are still obvious for a few more hours before the shifter healing completes. I notice Rufus, a man I sparred with, did not make it through his round. A pity. Yet here I am, clad in a black, soft robe with a thick red trim, still alive. Instead Denton, a black-bearded criminal gives me a silent throat slitting gesture and a smirk. He had also made it to eleven wins tonight, under the self-assigned name of Denton the Destroyer. His rival in sin, Xavier, a tattooed, wiry shifter whose sadistic cunning enhanced his physical strength had also made it to eight wins. We grimly nodded at each other, the other three had survived their first ever Cage. Rufus, Maxwell, and Brent replaced by another three identically rough looking men. Faceless entities for now. However while these new victors all licked their lips and muttered
Calm the fuck down he said. What the hell am I supposed to do, just let this red haired, beast covered in open wounds haul me to his bed? He might have looked the sanest of the men in the group but that isn’t saying much. His green eyes are dull and tired, yet he walked so quickly I had to scamper after him. How can I possibly believe he isn’t going to hurt me? The man with one eye, the way he was touching himself, eager to enjoy violating one of us. If he had picked me…I shudder and try to shake the thought away before I break down. My mind is wandering yet I haven’t moved from where my new captor left me. The sounds of water and undressing from the bathroom suggest he is telling the truth, yet I am frozen. I try to lift my tongue, to form any kind of word but it is stuck too. True, catastrophic fear, the likes of which I have never known before, has rendered me both mute and a statue. I need to run away, test how strong the bars are on his windows or see if there are any guar
My last remaining adrenalin must have exhausted itself as somehow, I fell asleep. I even dreamed. They were not nightmares of being kidnapped but instead peaceful dreams of ascending, like reaching the top of a wooded hill and basking in the nature around me. Very soothing and calming. Perhaps my brain is trying to soothe my fear-soaked body into believing I will be okay. However the instant Ivan rolled over in the bed my eyes shot open, tense, and ready, staring up at the mattress, fists clenched and ready. I am not being naïve enough to assume that just because he didn’t harm me last night he won’t pounce in the morning. Instead I hear manly stretching, grunting noises then a rustle as a face quietly peers over the bed to see where I am. Surrounded by a dozen towels in a strange little den, just my face peering out and a mass of blonde hair. I am fully aware I look ridiculous. For once his face changes, a strange little half-smile forms and he mutters, “you look like a mouse,”
I make my way down to the training area. The large wood-panelled exercise halls almost make me like a young teen back in training. Except the pommel horses have been replaced by boxing rings and blood spattered punch dummies. Denton in particular liked to punch them until his hands bled. Some pathetic display of strength I guess. It certainly intimidated the newer recruits. There were twenty men including myself.Six rooms became available last night after the Showcase, seeing as they always end in an opponent's death, therefore six fresh faces sat eagerly on the front row of the benches as instructed, each holding their newly issued robe, the colour corresponding to their living quarters. They were a mix of old, grizzled, desperate and terrified. All had probably succumbed to building up debts with Vincent’s Axelon group. Sometimes fathers built up the debts and sent their sons to pay the price. A disgusting betrayal of family, they never lasted beyond one fight. If you are not
After bathing Martha escorted me back. Despite her niceness to me she was still a part of this awful system, how could be a good person and exist in here? My damp blonde hair was up high in a large bun. As soon as I got back to the room I locked the door, took off the hideous silken gown. Grabbing the grey hooded top from last night, a peculiar apple scent hit me, sending a warm feeling down my body and I hugged it closer to me. This must be what Martha meant about a shifter's scent. Is that why Martha made me have such a potent soak? Well right now I reeked of oranges and lime so hopefully Ivan will be fooled into thinking that is my particular smell. Why I clasped the grey hooded top to my chest like a comforter I have no idea. My random nest of towels has been cleaned away, the room is stark and basic. I frantically searched through his large mahogany drawers for something else to cover my naked body. Martha might think Ivan is better than the others but nobody likes finding s
Cherish, a beautiful name, looked at me like I do towards those animals Xavier or Denton. Perhaps naively I had forgotten that she would see me as a scum, no different to the rest. I don’t have to help her, I can just bide my time until the next bout and then get the hell out of here… “Who is the other person?” she asked softly, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. I realised I was still standing against the door frame, guarding her like a savage. My muscles ached with tension as every millimetre Vincent came towards crossing my threshold made my hackles rise in anger. Turning around I blew out my cheeks and ran two hands through my already dishevelled russet hair. “Other person?” “The one who says pussy mileage, compares me to a whore…I…I think that is not entirely your own voice?” Her eyes were blue and crystal clear. They looked to be free of judgement, no longer narrowed or scowling at my very presence. Instead she remained sitting inside my bed, white covers up around her wi
Without thinking I shouted “Stop!” causing the cloaked person to sprint. “GUARDS!” I screeched, unable to mind-link members outside of my pack. Why was the entire fucking castle asleep! Sprinting after the cloaked figure I saw nobody else, no guards, not even a servant to help me catch the stranger. Arriving at the huge foyer of the castle, surrounded by flickering torches, hanging tapestries and miserable grey stone walls I had nothing to follow. They had vanished into thin air. All I knew from the build around the cloak was that they were a man, a man wearing long black trousers. Giving up the chase, I headed back to my room, flights of stairs, leading me to nothing but duplicating corridors of arched doorways, presumably student accommodation. The door to my parents’ suite remained open. “Papa?” I knocked softly to no answer. /Cillian, I am so sorry/ Vez said, realising before I did that my world had been knocked from its axis, shattered like porcelain. On the double bed, wrappe
I understood immediately why Papa never took us to many of these charades. Standing there in a pompous white shirt, on display like a prize pig at a fair I was happy to escape with Genevieve into the masses. I wasn’t so happy about Nikolai. We had only met briefly during a few childhood meetings but as a man he oozed anger and resentment. What for, I have no idea, but my sister and her wide eyes clearly thought it was the hottest thing she had ever seen. Silently, from my chosen distance, I watched his charisma overwhelm her, my own heckles rising. /She asked you to let her be an adult, to make her own choices/ Vez urged. Ever since first shifting and Vez came into my world it has been like having two fathers, both eager for me to prosper as Alpha. Our wolf fur was as red and fiery as my hair. I cringed, remembering how Jackson had laughingly called me the Infant Inferno, leaving me furious. Vez however, despite our fiery colour was sage, calming and fair. My papa tried to downpl
Having to walk in behind my parents I felt like a child amongst women. Despite the stunning dress, the styled hair and jewels I’d been given, the ballroom had a strange feel about it. I felt watched ,studied, but not in the usual way, like at home in Cragstone when crowds gathered. One person’s gaze had me flustered. The smell of burning spice made my eyes widen in fear, urgently seeking out the owner. As though we were in danger of attack, then I saw Nikolai Romanov. He headed up towards our little royal enclosure furtively, as though he was breaking in. He was just as entitled to be there as the rest of us and yet his fearsomely dark eyes were stuck on me. He offered no greetings to anyone else, not even his parents. My heart flipped, what do you do when someone looks so blatantly at you? He wasn’t undressing me with his eyes or anything crude like the silly Kharkov boys. Instead, he was seriously, steadily looking at me as a person. Almost the same age as me, already nineteen and
I know exactly why she is nervous. It’s not ideal and we’ve put it off for so long that it’s brought the formal gold bordered letter from Alexander to force our attendance. They are so young, the twins are barely even adults. If they find their mates tonight there it is more complicated than they realise. For Kharkov’s girls, or Lyon’s boys, when they make their match it will be a simple case of falling in love and finding a place to live and be happy together. Our children, should it be from a rival pack, will see alliances drawn up, decisions taken out of their hands as their parents become a tangle of wants and wishes. Should my beautiful, delicate little Genevieve be drawn in with that dark-haired lout Nikolai, what then? He is the future Alpha of White Forest, as Freya is to live in Rising Star. I would lose my darling girl. I know it is just the mindset of a scared father. I am a proud, happy man, terrified of nothing the world can throw at me. Except for damaging my family'
I gasped at the sight of our intruder. Cillian, my beautiful boy, had somehow transformed into a powerful, charismatic man, his white shirt open at the top showing the sculpted chest he inherited from his father. His coppery red hair had an even fierier tone than Ivan’s, almost sheer red, whilst his eyes had eventually turned blue like my own, despite starting green. He had a strong, masculine jaw and his figure had developed over the past year. He had trained like a beast with Kharkov and Jackson, as if preparing for his mate by getting into perfect shape. “Are we ready to do this parade then?” he grumbled, fiddling with his cufflink, the rasping depth of his manly voice still making me wistful even after years of it breaking. “How has a white shirt made you look this grown up,” I said softly, adjusting the collar of his shirt whilst he towered over me and his father. The squidgy faced little boy who hid behind my skirts clutching stacks of buns he had stolen from Martha was no m
** TWENTY YEARS LATER ** “I cannot believe it has truly been so long since we were last at White Forest,” I murmured, standing in the same suite we had used so many years ago. Back when I shouted at Helena and suggested she had failed Ivan. The four-poster bed and stained glass windows were unchanged. As if we had simply stepped back in time. The sight of the balcony, where I had once stood in only a black cloak for Ivan to devour under the pale blue moonlight made me smile and Halo purr in remembrance. “You are as amazing now as you were then,” Ivan murmured, approaching me with a grin. In his late forties he was getting somehow even more handsome with age. His hair remained the stunning copper beacon I looked for first in every room whilst his frame remained strong, tall and muscular. Although my heart had two other beacons to contend with in Genevieve and Cillian, Ivan’s strength was the tree which my roots had grown around. They had turned eighteen last winter, Ivan insiste
Although Ivan’s silly trick with the balcony made me laugh, we were soon back in the same glum mood we had left the dinner party with last night. The stone walls around us swirled with confusion, the footsteps of unknown servants constantly pattering by made me feel watched, edgy. At home, in Cragstone we knew exactly who roamed our smaller world. “We should just ask Helena outright,” I snapped in frustration, “they’re discussing us and our babies so why shouldn’t we know.” Ultimately we had the matter taken out of our hands. A small, elderly male servant summoned us for breakfast with Alpha Brandon and Luna Hollie down in the dining hall. Kissing the babies and leaving them with Kharkov and Penelope we made our way for attempt Day Two of the so-called Conference. As expected the four of them were already there. Brandon raised his hand as soon as he saw us enter and saw Ivan assessing the situation. Alpha Alexander for once looked distressed. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes wer
My worst fears were confirmed. This wasn’t a proper conference, there was no respect for our attendance as the leaders of the Shadowlands pack, it was some ridiculous notion by Helena to try and fix her own ego. Kissing Cherish softly as she tended to the babies with Penelope I informed Kharkov I was heading for a stroll, he could stay with the women and enjoy some breakfast. His face lit up at the prospect, whether it was breakfast or the company of the women I could not tell which thrilled him more. I loved the fact he had such a bond with Cherish. Having someone in your corner like that, it’s how I used to see myself and Helena. Different but the same. /If everything had stayed the same, we would have been dead in a ditch long ago. Some things have to change/ Kohl murmured sagely. I agreed with him, but I still regretted my lost friendship. Heading out of the huge double doored stone archway I found myself looking down upon a splendid view of the surrounding forest. It was so
When the servant brought us into the dining hall it was just as grand as I expected. Huge golden candelabras and chandeliers lit up a picture perfect room. The usual tapestries and war scenes I had grown used to seeing at White Forest were not present here. Rising Star was a gallery of landscapes. The valleys, lakes and forests depicted everywhere gave the castle a softer feeling than I had expected this pile of stones to provide. Even the soft rugs were welcomely eyed by Halo, my feet still not fully healed made me want to jump to the nearest chair. I preferred this castle to White Forest, though as Halo warned me, that may just be because I had lingering reservations about Luna Helena and her knowledge of Fate. Ivan, bless him, knew my feet were not fully healed yet and made sure to have me seated comfortably before anything else. Alpha Brandon and Luna Hollie were kind and gracious hosts. They clearly adored Helena and Alexander, a cosy coupling that we were on the outside of.