RainerI make it back to the castle despite the head injury. Dr. Martin wants to keep me in the hospital wing overnight for observation. My ribs aren’t broken, but I have bruises on my torso. This makes it hard to lie down in any position besides on my back.I’ve had worse injuries. Nothing a little
“No, to you.”Kane smiles, his gratitude at my loyalty clear on his face. “Once Dr. Martin lets you out, come visit Emory and your godson. Mikey is the cutest baby you’ll ever see.”I laugh because he called him Mikey. My charm works on everyone. “He’s cute thanks to his mom’s pretty genes.”Kane ro
She’s quiet. Her mouth quivers, and I watch the play of emotions on her face–sadness, anger, longing, joy, and finally, acceptance.“I’ve tried to fight this,” she tells me. “I fought as hard as I could, but you got underneath my skin.”“I know, sweetheart.” I coax her to move forward. “Come here.”
EmoryMichael won’t stop crying. I don’t know what he wants. I’ve fed and burped him and changed his diaper. Nothing seems to work.Even with my mom and the maids help, I’m exhausted and not getting enough sleep. No one can figure out why the baby won’t stop crying. During a check-up at the clinic,
“No,” she says. “There’s something else we haven’t tried.“What?”“Michael is half-vampire. We haven’t tried giving him blood.”I blink as I remember Dr. Martin explaining that vampire babies are fed blood along with milk usually along the six month mark. Due to Michael’s hybrid nature, we haven’t b
I feel guilty at having to leave her to the brunt of caring for Michael. I want to be there more for them, but I still have a war to deal with. Now that Jacob is back at Scarlett Thunder, I expect King Peter to launch an attack any day now. The birth of my son has added a new fear to my life–the fea
RainerAs soon as Dr. Martin discharges me from the clinic, I’m back to duty as if I’ve never been gone. A lot can happen in a week’s time, especially since we’re on the verge of a war that could annihilate our way of living. With our leverage against Scarlett Thunder gone, we’re anticipating King P
Rainer parks the car, and we step out of the vehicle. We’re in the middle of a clearing where there are only trees and the ruins of old stone cottages to be found. The place looks like it was abandoned a very long time ago. My heart sinks as I try to look for any trace of the coven I used to be part
MichaelI can count on one hand how many times I’ve been in this cathedral over the course of my short life. The dark stone walls echo even the smallest whisper, and the ancient stained glass sends shadows instead of snowy sunlight into the cavernous space. I wouldn’t consider vampires a very relig
FayeIt’s snowing on my wedding day. Snowing hard, actually, as I watch cars pulling around the castle where valets are waiting to greet the guests. The wedding will take place in an hour. An hour. I can’t believe it. My stomach pitches as two maids pull curlers from my hair and dab blush on my che
EmeldaQueen Emory smiles at the spread of vampire-friendly food laid out on a tea-table. Blood pastries and cakes galore sit on pretty little trays adorned with flowers, flutes of blood made to sparkle resting beside them. “Are you not hungry?” she asks as I inspect the spread over the sound of Al
MichaelI don’t really want to be here, but my mother and my fiancee practically forced me out of the castle and locked the door behind me. The dingy, crowded tavern some thirty miles away from the castle seems to sway against the crowd of shifters and vampires alike, everyone drinking copious amou
FayeIt’s snowing again. White fluff falls from the dark sky, highlighted by the exterior sconces placed along the walls of the castle. I smile as it blankets the ground, sticking to every surface it touches. I never really thought about the logistics of my future wedding. A marriage? Sure. My even
MichaelI stare at my soon-to-be bride, who looks up at me like a little golden owl, her blue eyes wide and shocked as she takes in my level of disheveledness. But I’m looking at her bloody finger, the bowl of liquid on the table, and the two guilty-looking ex-witches standing on either side of Fay
“He told me he thought you might have been pregnant the night we were going to give you that final potion,” she whispers, meeting my eyes. “I told him it couldn’t be. It was far too early to tell and the herbs I’d been giving you to try to heal you would have been harmful for the baby.”We stare at
FayeMorning comes like sand falling through an hourglass. All night, time moved so slowly. Each second passed in agony as I waited and paced, hoping for any shred of news from Michael. I’ve spent the most time in the living room sitting in awkward discomfort between Cole and Emelda, who refuse to
MichaelAlpha Harold watches as I sink into an armchair across from the raging fire in the hearth. He holds me a glass of whiskey, his eyes holding mine for a second before he turns to settle on a stool beside his mate. I find this entire situation–this man, this pack–alarming. “How long have you