MichaelI find my mom out in the garden. I had a feeling she’d be here, surrounded by petals and green plants–things that keep her grounded to the nature shifters crave. She’s kneeling, her fingers deftly pulling up weeds–or something. She straightens and lifts her head as I approach, reveling in he
Six Weeks AgoFayeMy slippers pad across the pale marble tiles. I hike up my dress–pink, just like the slippers I spent hours upon hours embroidering with little stars and white flowers. My hair fans out around my shoulders and down my back in my haste to reach my father’s office. Cara, my lady’s m
MichaelFaye’s room is chaotic. Nurses and the physician crowd her bed to the point I can’t see her through the fray. I push through them, seeing her pale and writhing, arching off the bed in pain. “What’s wrong with her?!” I shout. Faye murmurs, white foam tinted with blood bubbling from her lips
MichaelAlma and Lowe speak in quiet tones in the foyer while he helps her into her thick coat. The usual, ceaseless sprinkle of rain has finally turned to sleet–a vicious mix of freezing rain and the first hints of snow that’s going to make the village an icy mess when day turns to night. Lowe pus
MichaelThree hours later, in the dead middle of the night, I stand in the doorway leading into the cozy guest room I brought Faye into what must have been weeks ago. I guess that much time has passed since then. It feels like seconds, honestly. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to catch my breath
“What did they do to you?” I press. I wave my hand at the mess of jars, herbs, and healing… potions, not just tonics. Actual potions. Potions made by a witch.“What didn’t they do is a better question,” she murmurs, turning away. “Emelda–”“I was a girl,” she whispers over the simmering water and c
MichaelI pace the foyer, running my fingers through my hair over and over again as I listen to the voices of Emelda and Alma drifting down the staircase. Lowe walks in from the kitchen with an armful of firewood, his face drawn with fatigue. I nod at him in greeting as he walks past me toward the
EmeldaMichael has officially lost his mind. I edge closer to the bed, the vial I hold trembling as I raise a shaking hand. “You can’t possibly know that for sure. It’s too early. Far too early.”He looks down at the nearly dead vampire in the bed, his eyes wide and glossy with shock and the last gl
Michael still feels like Cole took advantage of Emelda in some way, shape, or form. I don’t necessarily disagree. But, that was four years ago, and neither of them are willing to share their feelings or thoughts on the current climate of their relationship with us. And, unfortunately, we have to ac
FayeEmelda walks in step beside me, draped in her usual black cloak, her dark eyes narrowed on the brilliant sunset as the last rays of light dip below the horizon. It’s been two weeks since the fire tore through the manor, two weeks of quiet peace that feels almost misplaced. I’m not sure how to
Michael“The second born son of this union will be handed over at birth to King Mattias and his court to be raised in Red River as the rightful heir to the throne,” Dad reads aloud as he paces in front of the windows in his office that overlook the bleak, snow drenched landscape beyond, “to ensure t
MichaelThe emissary to Red River–the real one–isn’t anyone I recognize. He’s tall and pale blond, his red eyes gleaming in the brightly lit ballroom where he and his posse of royal Red River guards have gathered. He scans the group before him–myself, my father, and my uncle, and smiles faintly, hi
I listen intently, watching a myriad of emotion play over her face as she knits her fingers together. “We spent an entire summer sneaking around,” she says softly, closing her eyes. “He’d find me in the garden, in the library, sometimes going as far as to sneak into my room at night. We couldn’t st
FayeStill in the library, I listen intently as Emelda discloses far more than I expected her to.There was a point in Emelda’s life as a vampire that she’d accepted she’d always be alone. Her bed would always be cold, her skin unblemished by a loving touch. She’d never know love again, and for deca
Faye“It really is gorgeous,” Emelda says the next morning while walking with me to the library. She runs her thumb over the massive sapphire ring and smiles faintly, raising her brows. “I think it’s a family heirloom, too. You should expect a load of fine jewelry to follow.”“You know I don’t care
FayeKing Kane is a slightly terrifying man. His presence is all consuming–like he sucks the light out of the room. He doesn’t look his age, like all vampires. The only indication that he’s a senior vampire compared to his son is the faint gray glow around his temples where his dark hair is starting
MichaelI watch Faye run a comb through her hair, over and over. The golden strands shine like golden silk in the pockets of sunlight shimmering through the curtains. Beyond the glass, knee-deep snow covers the castle grounds in a blanket of pure, untouched white. Deep inside, I feel a flicker of m