MichaelSomething like dread creeps through my body as I scan the ball room. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears–a heavy thump, thump, thump that increases in speed as I search for Matilda. Deacon appears looking just as stressed as I feel, and we lock gazes. He gives a single head shake before disap
FayeMy entire body revolts against every move I’m trying to make as Emelda stands in the doorway, her body casting a long shadow across the floorboards. My skin feels numb. My mouth is bone dry, and my eyes sting against the firelight, but I can see the outline of a tall, darkened figure moving in
FayeThe sound of shattering glass bursts through my ears. The roar of the fire overwhelms my senses, heat licking my face. I can’t open my eyes against the smoke, and my voice is nothing but a strangled, choking gargle as I try to scream Emelda’s name. I’m grabbed from behind and dragged across th
She’d killed someone tonight–a shifter. Fed from them until her ravenous appetite was satisfied. She’d made it sound like it was Michael–my Michael. “Oh, no,” I whisper, tears welling along my lower lashes. “Oh, no, not Lowe–”“Someone help her!” Cole screams into the night while he fights to keep
MichaelI pull my battered body off the snowy ground, shaking out my coat. In my wolf form, my vision is much better than normal, but against the storm raging this far up in the mountains, I’m barely able to see more than ten feet in front of me. Matilda’s footprints have faded, carried away by the
“Matilda of Red River,” I say, pulling my belt through the loops and securing it on my waist. “The princess… she did this to Faye, her own sister. The attack, the poisoning, it was all her.”He’s silent as I sit and pull on a pair of socks and shoes. “I believe Faye was the princess that was meant
FayeI don’t know why I throw myself against Michael like my life depends on feeling him firm and whole in my arms. Maybe this feeling inside my chest is a rushed, fleeting echo of something deeper, something I’ve only known to be true in fairy tales. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same–maybe he sees me
FayeI pace outside a set of gilded doors that stretch nearly to the domed ceiling somewhere in the depths of the castle. Dressed in a nightgown with a thick, dark purple robe resting over my shoulders, my feet leave imprints in the rug as I walk back and forth, wringing my hands. I try to tune out
Fractured memories of the night I nearly drank myself to death careen to the forefront of my mind. There was a woman. I don’t remember her face or her name. I was so far gone with drink and self-loathing that I gave in to whatever kind of attention and stimulations she had to offer. It was consensua
ColeThe letter came in the dead of night, rain-soaked and smeared, but I’d know her handwriting anywhere, in any condition. She’d written that she needed to see me, urgently, that it couldn’t wait, and she couldn’t explain why, not in a letter, not at the risk of what she needed to tell me going pu
EmeldaIt’s a quiet night. A long, silent walk from the castle. I needed this quiet, this stillness in the late summer air. Ravenfell comes into view beyond the trees, twinkling in the darkness. I smile, shaking my head as I look down at my shoes. I can still feel the weight of the twins in my arms
MichaelI haven’t been to Scarlet Thunder in… years. I didn’t realize how long it’s been until I pulled up to the back of the castle, somewhat startled by how small it looks compared to my memories from my childhood. Not that it's a small castle, but I'm much bigger now. I step out of my car, my fac
Faye“Oh, Faye, this is beautiful,” Emory says as she walks around the wide room on the second floor of the newly constructed manor. She runs her fingers over the pale blue and pink floral wallpaper and white trim, her jade eyes sparkling as she takes in the lace curtains and soft cream carpet. “I l
EmeldaIn the week since the twins were born, I’ve been busy with the final touches on my cottage. I spent days this past spring digging in the front garden, planting herbs and vegetables, and fixing the front path. I hired a group of shifters to replace the roof and update the inside, installing ne
Emelda“Thank you,” I say, hurrying at a near run as a maid takes my cloak. The castle is buzzing with nervous energy but remains quiet with even the maids tiptoeing around, trying not to make a sound. I’d remained in Ravenfell for the birth. I spent all night and most of this morning at Alma’s hou
FayeSomething’s wrong. Something has to be wrong. “You’re doing great. Keep pushing, Faye. You’ve got this,” Alma says, her face glistening with sweat and determination while I roar in pain. Michael clutches my hand, his other hand bracing my inner thigh as I bear down with all the strength I hav
Michael“It could be hours–or a day,” Alma says quietly as she arranges her tonics on a table just outside the bedroom where Faye’s finally getting some rest. “It’s been hours already,” I tell her, motioning toward the window in my suite in the castle where moonlight drifts through the panes, casti