Ares had given Dad the nicest of the Warrior Wolves’ cabins to stay in. When we arrived, Ares’s arm still latched securely around my waist as it had been every single step of the way, I saw two other familiar faces peering out at us through the window, their creased faces crinkling with smiles so wide I half feared their tissue paper skin might tear.The wind whipped between the cabins, making my eyes and cheeks sting. Dawn had long since settled across the horizon, pale pink fading into the usual white-grey cloud cover. Everything looked strange out here, unreal in a way I couldn’t quite process. I clutched at Ares, suddenly apprehensive as dad moved to let us in.My nerves dissolved as soon as set foot inside. We were both pulled into an embrace on all sides, many arms winding around us and holding us close.“You did it,” Nana Baspy whispered.I scoffed and, after another long moment, I pulled away. “I don’t think I can take any of the credit, Nana. I wasn’t even conscious for half
As everyone took their seats, Ares and I remained standing. I clutched at his hand: it was a physical reminder to everyone there that we were joined, that Winterpaw Warrior and Blue Moon were enemies no longer.I glanced at Ares, letting him take the lead. He swallowed, straightened his shoulders, and then smiled hesitantly around at everyone. The expression looked strange, uncertain, and it took me a moment to realise why. Ares never smiled at people when he addressed them. He led through fear and control. Not anymore, it seemed. My heart swelled.“Thank you all for coming,” he said, projecting his voice clearly and confidently across the room. “Luna Sienna and Alpha Rodriguez, of the Firepaw Pack.” He inclined his head at the dark-skinned woman my dad had been talking to before, and the bald-headed, well-muscled man sat beside her. They were both older than us by about fifteen years.The Alpha and Luna of the Storm Guardian Pack were older still, well into their fifties, their face
One year later I smoothed my hands down over my thick cloak. Nerves swarmed in my belly: not the dizzying kind that made me feel faint, but the sort that cast a hazy glow over everything as I walked along the winding woodland pathway. Torches flickered every few feet; orange roses of light bloomed across the mossy, dew-damp earth beneath my boots. “Nervous?” asked Dad. “A little.” I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. “It’s silly, I know. There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve been his Luna for the last year – longer, really – but this feels…” I trailed off, unsure how to word exactly how it felt. Official? Real? “It’s been such a long time coming, sweetheart.” “Yeah. Part of me wishes we’d done this straight after the battle, but it made sense to wait until the pack was remade.” Unable to help myself, a grin pushed hard at my cheeks. Everything looked beautiful today, I thought, the pine trees bottle-green beneath the golden setting sun. Everything was glazed with the
I could smell blood in the air. It hung thick in the barren clearing, curdling in the pervasive heat. The slash of claws and the ring of bone against bone shuddered through the space, rolling in hard waves against the trees. Sweat rolled down my back, matting my wolven fur. My lips pulled back from my teeth in a snarl, and I eyed the Winterpaw Warrior wolves, our deadliest, cruellest enemies, with sheer, seething hatred. They were everything my pack, my parents’ pack, were not. And then I was moving, hurtling through the undergrowth in a flash of grey and black and white. It was hard to pick out enemies even in the thin cover the smattering of trees provided when everything I saw was painted in shades of grey. I focused on texture, hunting for a ripple of muscle or a shift of fur. I sniffed, hard. I despised the smell of blood, despised the truth of death that clung to its scent, but I needed it if the Blue Moon Pack were to have any chance of survi
My mate was somewhere on the battlefield. I looked around desperately, the reality of the fight falling away. I had to find him.Where moments ago there had only been shades of grey, I now saw in colour. The sky was blue, the trees were green, and my parents had told me my fur was a brown so dark it was almost black – it was deep, and rich, and tears stung my eyes at the sight of it all. Everything was so vivid, so beautiful. And then I saw red for the first time. It was everywhere: soaking into my fur, soaking into the green grass, soiling the brown dirt. Overwhelmed, I stumbled. ‘Haile?’ Etta hissed through our mindlink. ‘We need to retreat.’ The same wet, shining darkness I had known to be blood was so, so much worse in colour. ‘It’s everywhere,’ I replied, glad it was a mental conversation. I would not have been able to speak through my too-thick, too-hoarse throat otherwise. I closed my eyes. Even in darkness the
I woke up in the medical centre. Blinking blearily, it took me a while to return to myself. My vision was blurred, hazy streaks of light and dark and other things, colourful things that I could not yet truly recognise, spun together and made my temples throb. There were voices, too. They were gentle, and too quiet to properly hear. It only made the buzzing between my ears worse, and I breathed through the nausea that spiked with it. My hearing felt wrong, as though one ear was stood outside, pressed up against a thick wooden door, and the other was in the room. Then came the pain. I hissed through my teeth, and opened my eyes fully to glare at whoever had knocked me down. It took me another, too-long moment to realise that I was no longer on the battlefield, and that my parents were sat on the edge of the starchy white bed, watching me with worried eyes. Sheer relief nearly knocked me over. They were okay. The talking
Try as I might, I couldn’t get that stupid dream out of my head. I scratched irritably at my chest. It was too tight across my lungs and my idiotic heart was swollen from within with need. Reckless, harmful need. This was a pointless idea and a huge waste of my time. Still, it was my own fault for lying to my parents about my mate, so I sucked it up and shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers before giving myself a quick once-over in the mirror. It felt like a miracle to see my new face. Hard green eyes stared back at me beneath neatly shaped dark brows. My eyelashes fluttered as I traced the curves of my high cheekbones, marvelling at the black crescent they formed upon my brown skin. The sun caught the curls of my black hair, which hung loose down my back. Tucking a flyaway strand behind my ear, staring at the odd translucent colour of my fingernails as I did so, I steeled myself. A muscle feathered in my jaw. I sighed, watching my lips p
“Haile!” cried Dad, a broad grin splitting his face. “Come in, come in.” A knot twisted tighter in my stomach at the warmth in his expression. I was about to ruin everything with the truth. I followed him into their office, pulling up a chair between their desks. Mum was sat behind hers, her shrewd eyes narrowed at a letter. She glanced up at me as I entered, offering me a tight smile before she looked back down at the parchment she held flat against her wooden desk. The office was large and airy. Plants in terracotta pots adorned the wide wooden shelves behind them, and more sat on the coffee table between two small sofas in the corner to the right behind me. Books and rolls of parchment were stacked haphazardly on my father’s side of the office and filed away neatly on my mother’s. As with everywhere I’d been since Medic Brown had finally let me leave the medical centre this morning, I gawped at the colours as I settled myself in my usual seat. The ri