Novels by Blanca

"What do you mean by that?" Elara asked.Darius picked up the pen and set it down again."What I'm about to say might sound unkind.""Try me.""Whenever I saw her, at the rite, at feasts, the midwinter council. She wore the same face at all times." His eyes stayed on the map. "I do not think I ever met her without it."Inside her ribs, Vesper made a small sound."She's lying in a bed right now as we speak," Elara said. It came out sharper than she meant. "The best you could do is wait for her to wake before you criticize her facial expressions.""I know where she is. It was my patrol that carried her out of the slide." He turned the pen between his fingers. "I said it so you would know what I do not want. If you are angry, be angry. I would rather have that than a spineless copy.""You'd prefer I shouted?""Yes. If you meant it."She had rehearsed several insults on the ride here, but of course, they had all decided to flee at the right moment. What she had left was the one thing she

ElaraElara had rehearsed seven insults on the ride north, but by the time the lodge came into view she could not remember a single one.It stood alone in a clearing of dark pine trees, a squat building of black timber and river stone with a slate roof and a single chimney threading smoke into the late afternoon. No banners hung from the roof and no guards stood at the door. It looked like a place where nobody lived and everybody hid."Neutral ground," said the older of her two Silvermoon escorts as he reined his horse to a stop at the treeline. His name was Corwin, and he had taught her to ride when she was nine. He did not look at her face though. "We'll wait here. If you need us...""I won't.""If you need us," he said again, " just shout."She nodded before sliding down from the saddle on legs that felt borrowed, then she pulled the gray hood tighter around her face and walked the last fifty yards alone.The pines closed behind her. The wind carried the smell of resin and cold ash

Elara"Posture," said the voice in Elara's head."I'm sitting on a bed," Elara muttered. "Nobody is looking at me."A Luna sits as though the room belongs to her. Shoulders back. Chin level. Hands in your lap, not strangling the blanket."I'm not a Luna."You will be, in three weeks.Elara dropped her hands into her lap and glared at the ceiling. It was just the second night since the incident but she had already lost three arguments to a wolf.The council had taken her condition without a murmur. Lucian had inclined his head and said that it was a reasonable request, and within the hour a rider had gone north with a letter. The answer came by evening. Alpha Blackthorn would meet her at a neutral hunting lodge on the border, three days from now, alone. There would be no escort inside the walls and there would be no witnesses.Now she had three nights to learn how to carry two wolves without anyone seeing.Mother had given the rules before the rider was even out of the gate. Hood up in

ElaraThe stairs had never felt so long.Elara climbed them with one hand on the rail and the other pressed flat against her ribs, as if she could hold two wolves in place by force. Behind her, the sitting room had gone silent. Nobody had tried to stop her when she stood up. Mother had only turned the tea tray another quarter inch while watching her go.On the landing, outside the last door in the hall, Elara stopped.She pressed the heels of both hands hard against her eyes until the heat behind them settled into something she could manage. Then she wiped her cheeks and rolled her shoulders. She wore a practiced smile at first, but decided to just let it go.Then she knocked twice, the way she always did, and pushed the door open.The room smelled of mint and old fever. A single lamp burned on the side table, throwing more shadow than light, and the curtains were drawn. Rowan sat propped against a mountain of pillows that seemed determined to swallow him whole. His hair, dark like he

ElaraElara laughed, because the alternative was to scream really loud.It came out short and ugly and echoed off the paneled walls of the family sitting room. Nobody joined in. Instead, five faces looked back at her across the tea table: Mother, Father, Elder Lucian and the two council elders who had followed him into the healing wing. Aldric, thin and sour as vinegar and Merrow, heavy and silent, while patting a handkerchief against his upper lip.The curtains were drawn tight against the morning. A pot of tea sat on the table between them, cooling, untouched."I'm sorry," Elara said. "Say that again. I think I misheard."Lucian folded his hands. "We are asking you to take your sister's place at the altar. To marry Alpha Darius Blackthorn in three weeks, as the alliance requires."So she had not misheard.She pushed the hood of the gray cloak off her head. Nobody told her to put it back on. They no longer needed to. Everyone in the room already knew what lived behind her eyes."Sere

ElaraElara was pounding on her bedroom door before the sun had cleared the hills."Open it!" Her fist hit the wood again. "I know you're out there!"She had spent what was left of the night sitting on the edge of her bed and listening to the house move around her. She had heard footsteps in the hall and low voices behind closed doors. She had heard the scrape of a chair, as if someone had stood up too fast. But nobody had come to tell her anything. And now, near dawn she had tried the handle and found it locked from the outside.After a while, a key turned and her mother stood in the hall, dressed and pinned and composed, a folded gray cloak over one arm."Put this on.""Why was my door locked?""For your safety." Mother held out the cloak. "Wear the hood up. Tell no servant what you heard last night, or what you felt. If anyone asks, you are unwell and frightened for your sister.""I am frightened for my sister.""Then it will be easy." Mother's voice did not rise. It never did. "Ke