“That’s not why I’ve come,” I insist. “My name is Willow. I used to be part of this coven. I was sold off as a feeder by my father, Asher. I had a sister, Bryony-”“High priestess Bryony?” the woman asks.That makes me pause. “I didn’t know she became the high priestess.”“After her sister was sold
Willow“Bryony never stopped hoping you would come back. And it’s because of her, I will listen to what you have to say,” Ivy declares. “We will speak alone in my home.”Relief washes over me. “Thank you, Ivy.”She raises a hand to stop me. “Only you. He can’t come into the village.”Glancing down m
Ivy’s fingernail traces the rim of the teacup, her expression contemplative. “What else would King Kane be able to offer for this alliance?”“The man that came with me would be able to tell you more,” I explain. “He is King Kane’s right hand man.”“And you are friends with this man?”If I could blus
Rainer presents the contracts we’ve written, and we sign them, Ivy using her magic to make sure I cannot back out of her terms even if I want to. Her magic pricks into my skin like needles. I force myself not to wince until she finishes casting the spell. When all is done, there is a chain of glowin
KaneA few days after the alliance with Willow’s former coven is finalized, Ivy is going to meet up with the high priestesses of covens she is associated with. Surprisingly, she’s taking me with her. When I ask her why she wants me there, knowing how the witches will not positively react to me, she
She leans back against the altar, her hands on the bluestone behind her for support. “What is it you need clarification on?”“I’ve had questions ever since I met Emory and felt the undeniable pull between us. When she became pregnant and she learned that I’m her mate, it seemed to go against everyth
“We do,” I answer. “We need blood to survive, but besides that, we eat plenty of food, even though we don’t need it.”Food is a safe, neutral topic and we discuss the differences and similarities in the food we eat. Vampires usually have access to more expensive food while witches make do with more
LexThe days blur together in that dark cell. I can barely do anything but sleep. Somebody brings me blood on occassion. My ribs are broken, and they are trying to heal, but I need more blood.My nose has healed, and it feels crooked, which will marr my looks forever if I don’t have it reset soon. T
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