*Canaan*
The moment Bexley disappears behind me, I turn and rush down the hallway as quickly as I can. When I turn the corner, I see one of my warriors lying in a pool of his own blood with Garth stalking toward him, his rifle still smoking.
A roar tears through my body. Even though I can’t shift, that won’t stop me from launching myself at the bastard. He doesn’t get his weapon up in time, so when I crash into him, I crush it against his body and rip into his shoulders with my gnarled teeth.
“Get off me, you fucking bastard!” Garth shouts, attempting to kick me off like he did last time. I dig my claws in and continue to maul him the best I can. I don’t know what’s happening downstairs, but this asshole needs to die. Blood and muscle fills my mouth as I chew through him, spitting it aside.
He shouts in anger and pain and tries again to push me off. This time, he uses his elbow for leverage and manag
*Bexley*I want to run to Canaan and wrap my arms around his furry neck, but we can’t do that right now. The sounds of fighting from downstairs are still intense, and it’s clear he’s still injured. He drops Garth’s head on the floor, and I rush over to him, trying to see where the bullet entered him earlier.He nuzzles up against me, and I almost laugh, but I’m too busy looking for his injury. I find it in his shoulder. “This looks painful,” I murmur, wishing he could talk to me. His eye is also a bit jacked up, like maybe Garth also punched him too hard in the face.“I’m all right,” I hear in my head.I take a step backward and almost trip over what’s left of Garth. “Wh-what was that?”He looks at me with a wolfy grin. “That’s the mind-link. I can talk to you now that you know who you are.”“Now that I know who I am?” I
*Bexley*I still don’t know how to find the vault. Anna, who was standing nearby when Justin told me where to find Canaan, spoke up and said she’d escort me. Now, I walk with her up a back stairwell away from all of the blood and gore that the staff has already begun to clean up. As we walk, she tells me a story.“It was the night of Prince Canaan’s seventeenth birthday. King Paul and Queen Sophia wanted to throw a ball and invite all of the nobles from all the kingdoms near and far. Prince Canaan didn’t want such an event, though. The king had just finished negotiating an agreement with the townsfolk for the villages between Luna Hollow and Hexeton to become part of the kingdom, and there had been some fighting. Canaan thought it disrespectful to have a party at such a time. His mother, who had a bit of a temper, decided if he wanted to act that way, she’d send all of the nobles home. They wouldn’t celebrate at a
*Canaan*The feel of Bexley’s soft skin beneath my fingers has me wanting to forget about the rest of the world. I would love to pick her up, carry her back to my bedroom, and ravish her the way I’ve been dreaming of doing since the day we met.But I have another important task for her. I’m begging the Moon Goddess that she’ll be able to break the final portion of the curse and free my parents.“I don’t understand,” Bexley says. “I thought your parents passed away the night the witch showed up?”I know that Anna has told her the story of what happened that night. I asked her to do so as she walked with her to where we now stand. While it’s true I probably should’ve done it myself, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to. It’s simply too painful for me to remember all the details. And Anna is an excellent storyteller.“Ever since that night, they haven&rsquo
*Bexley*The hazel eyes I see every night in my dreams are staring up at me, wide and hopeful, waiting patiently for me to respond to his question. A simple question. The most important question I’ll ever be asked in my life.This is not a dream. This is reality. This is the real world—where people can turn into wolves, people can discover they have magical powers and use them for good, and people can come back from the dead—or like dead.It’s a world where an ordinary girl like me can reluctantly move to a different kingdom only to discover she’s been summoned to an enchanted castle to break a spell—and fall in love.I’m struggling to answer Canaan’s question not because I don’t know the answer but because I’m crying so much. The only thing that could possibly make this moment more special would be if my mother were here. She’s not, though, and I can hardly wait to give him an answer, so rather than speaking, I nod my head fervently.“Is that a yes?” he asks.“That’s a yes!” Elliso
*Bexley*Six Months Later…Mother is weeping.It’s nothing new. She does a lot of that these days. Ever since the day after the castle was attacked when Canaan and I showed up at the house she shared with Harvey and told her everything, she’s been teary eyed. She’s so proud of me. Even now, she says, “I can’t believe you’re the queen!”“Well, not yet,” I remind her, looking at my own reflection in the mirror. “There is the matter of getting married—and coronated.”“That’s all just a technicality,” she assures me. “I’m so proud of you, honey!”“I’m proud of you, too.” Carefully, I turn in my long white dress and hug her. The last thing I need to do is tear this gown, though I’m fairly certain Canaan will do that later when he grows impatient with all the buttons.&l
Beginning of Book 2***Max“Princess? Princess Maxiana? Where are you?”I slip further into the milky, rose scented water of my bath, closing my eyes against the soft pitter-patter of Annabel’s slippers as she searches for me in what sounds like desperation. Her exaggerated sigh and mumbles bring a smile to my face, but I sink under water until I’m totally submerged, my hair floating on the surface. I hear her gasp and cry out as she rushes to the tub, but I burst from the water, laughing as I brush my wet hair from my face. “You scared me to death!” Annabel snaps, her cheeks going a deep, rosy pink. “Goddess, Max, I thought you’d drowned!”“You think I’d be dumb enough to do that on the day of my own ball?” I slide to the side, resting my arms on the rim of the tub, smirking up at my lady-in-waiting–my only real friend, if I’m being honest. Annabel scowls as she moves through the spacious bathroom before whirling and resting her hip against the counter, her arms crossed and lower
KaelI cross into the shadows of a cavernous, echoing palace. Rain slips down the dark stone walls from tunnels funneling upward toward breaks in the mountain that guards the castle built against and within its depths. I adjust my cuffs, smoothing the dark, intricate fabric of my black jacket inlaid with shimmering, polished beads of obsidian, and look up, facing the twisting onyx columns as I cross into the sanctum–the very center of the dilapidated castle.Four men wait in silence, their eyes scanning and inspecting me as I approach. My footsteps carry, thundering through the wide, open space. The air is damp and scented with ozone as a storm of epic proportions rages overhead, casting the steep, unforgiving mountainscape in ribbons of electric blue, just visible through the holes in the ceiling.I fucking hate this place.“King Kael,” calls a man in the center of the group, giving me a sharp, shallow nod of his head.“King Titus,” I reply with little fanfare, returning his nod with
KaelI already know I’m dreaming when my eyes catch on rays of milky sunlight. Soft, white curtains dance in a warm breeze scented with salt and ozone, like a storm is passing over the mountaintops. Shadows dance through the beams, the familiar, yet dreamlike, room all around me fading into temporary darkness as the heavy clouds drift in front of the sun, but the air is warm and inviting as I sit up, smoothing the satin duvet over my lap, and turn toward the piano. I’ve had this dream enough times to know what I’m looking for and where to find it–to find her. Her thin fingers brush over the keys, plucking and grazing through each soft, echoing note of a song I know by heart but can never remember when I wake up. Golden blonde hair tumbles down her back, vibrating with each faint, practiced movement of her wrists and fingers, her narrow shoulders loose as she sways with the music, playing like the notes are coming from a place deep within her–her heart–her very soul. Sometimes I tel
MaxianaI’m on the beach again, that beach of gems and calm, dark water. Black mist hangs all around me as I walk in no single direction, unsure if I’m going to step off the beach and into a vat of inky, black nothingness again. He’s not here this time. I’m not sure how I know, but I can just… feel that I’m alone. Horribly, inexplicitly alone. I’ve never been alone. Never. Not a single day in my life. I hug my arms to my chest as I pick across the beach. The mist begins to part, and through the starlight reflecting on the gems, I think I see the glow of a… a lantern. Yes, that flickering, soft amber light is stationary compared to the rippling glow of the stars shining against the gems. The mist parts further, revealing a small, stone building with a single sconce lit on its side, right beside a door. My heartrate skyrockets. I stumble over the gems in my haste to run, but I’m moving in slow motion, my movements dreamlike and hazy as I try to force my body forward over the beach.
KaelTerminus is always cloaked in storms. The raging, jagged mountain peaks shine white with every burst of lightning as I soar into Ashton’s territory, parting the angry clouds and sending thick mist coiling around my dragon body as I tuck in my wings and spiral down into the shadowed valley of his territory. Ashton’s expecting me, which means I’m not bombarded by his guards as I glide onto a landing platform and slide to a stop near a set of massive iron doors guarding the mouth of his fortress. Unlike Starfall, the largest city in my territory of the Emerald Coast, Terminus is built entirely within the mountains under Ashton’s rule. Tunnels pass between the mountains, connecting his cities while protecting his people from the unforgiving elements. I shake ice from my wings before shifting back to my human form, breathing deeply past the stretch and pull of the transformation to fill my lungs with crisp, frigid air. The massive doors open, and Ashton steps out, flanked by guards
KaelRaw gems make the obsidian walls glitter all around the meek, pale, mentally exhausted young woman loosely chained to a bed in the normally empty infirmary. A dragon shifter–a female–in a tidy black uniform and creamy white cloak moves around her, swiping another layer of thick, scentless salve made of crushed diamonds on Annabel’s arms and legs, healing the injuries she sustained in battle against the vines. I hadn’t noticed her injuries before. Not her hands, which were so raw they’re now bright red as fresh, new skin develops. Not the lacerations and blisters along her calves that are healing in real time. She’d fought, but for what? Her own life? The life of her princess, which she hasn’t said a word about in the hour she’s spent in Ryker’s company? That’s what he just told me in the hallway, his normally stern, unfazed disposition wore thin, like he’d just been through battle. I pull up a chair beside the bed and stare at the girl who refuses to meet my eyes. Ryker leans
MaxianaThe world is hazy and dark as I move through water so shallow it barely brushes my ankles. It ripples with each step I take, disturbing the millions of stars reflected on its surface. It’s totally dark here save for the stars hanging overhead, and silent, even as I splash through the water. I have no idea how I got here, but I feel like I’ve been stuck in an endless, watery, starlit loop for hours now. My long, white slip of a dress floats on the surface, gathered around my ankles, as I move through the nothingness, wondering when it’s going to end. Soft, whispered voices drift around me–unfamiliar and tangled, like they’re speaking underwater. I must be dreaming, right? There’s no way this is real. This endless, shallow ocean of stars is a figment of my mind, my too-active imagination. It has to be. I pause, squinting into the dizzying starlight. A small rise is just visible in the distance, I believe. An island cloaked in shadow and mist, but there is, in fact, land. My
KaelVaeloria is lost to slumber. I can taste the magic on my tongue–a heady, metallic sheen I can’t swallow down. Villagers slump against barrels and crates, snoozing peacefully, their bodies damp with the rain that passed through sometime yesterday. Thank the old gods it’s summer. They would have frozen solid last night otherwise. Even the children lie in heaps of homespun fabric as I move through the outer villages. The shutters and doors of the humble cottages I pass on my way to the castle clap against their stone walls, left open, unlocked. The air is still, and the silence is overwhelming, especially when I pass a group of chickens in the center of a dirt road, the entire flock asleep with their heads tucked under their wings. Warriors slump against the wall surrounding the castle. The gate is open, creaking in the warm wind that rustles through the immaculate garden. People dressed in finery spread out over the glistening, white stone steps leading to the grand entrance,
KaelI already know I’m dreaming when my eyes catch on rays of milky sunlight. Soft, white curtains dance in a warm breeze scented with salt and ozone, like a storm is passing over the mountaintops. Shadows dance through the beams, the familiar, yet dreamlike, room all around me fading into temporary darkness as the heavy clouds drift in front of the sun, but the air is warm and inviting as I sit up, smoothing the satin duvet over my lap, and turn toward the piano. I’ve had this dream enough times to know what I’m looking for and where to find it–to find her. Her thin fingers brush over the keys, plucking and grazing through each soft, echoing note of a song I know by heart but can never remember when I wake up. Golden blonde hair tumbles down her back, vibrating with each faint, practiced movement of her wrists and fingers, her narrow shoulders loose as she sways with the music, playing like the notes are coming from a place deep within her–her heart–her very soul. Sometimes I tel
KaelI cross into the shadows of a cavernous, echoing palace. Rain slips down the dark stone walls from tunnels funneling upward toward breaks in the mountain that guards the castle built against and within its depths. I adjust my cuffs, smoothing the dark, intricate fabric of my black jacket inlaid with shimmering, polished beads of obsidian, and look up, facing the twisting onyx columns as I cross into the sanctum–the very center of the dilapidated castle.Four men wait in silence, their eyes scanning and inspecting me as I approach. My footsteps carry, thundering through the wide, open space. The air is damp and scented with ozone as a storm of epic proportions rages overhead, casting the steep, unforgiving mountainscape in ribbons of electric blue, just visible through the holes in the ceiling.I fucking hate this place.“King Kael,” calls a man in the center of the group, giving me a sharp, shallow nod of his head.“King Titus,” I reply with little fanfare, returning his nod with
Beginning of Book 2***Max“Princess? Princess Maxiana? Where are you?”I slip further into the milky, rose scented water of my bath, closing my eyes against the soft pitter-patter of Annabel’s slippers as she searches for me in what sounds like desperation. Her exaggerated sigh and mumbles bring a smile to my face, but I sink under water until I’m totally submerged, my hair floating on the surface. I hear her gasp and cry out as she rushes to the tub, but I burst from the water, laughing as I brush my wet hair from my face. “You scared me to death!” Annabel snaps, her cheeks going a deep, rosy pink. “Goddess, Max, I thought you’d drowned!”“You think I’d be dumb enough to do that on the day of my own ball?” I slide to the side, resting my arms on the rim of the tub, smirking up at my lady-in-waiting–my only real friend, if I’m being honest. Annabel scowls as she moves through the spacious bathroom before whirling and resting her hip against the counter, her arms crossed and lower
*Bexley*Six Months Later…Mother is weeping.It’s nothing new. She does a lot of that these days. Ever since the day after the castle was attacked when Canaan and I showed up at the house she shared with Harvey and told her everything, she’s been teary eyed. She’s so proud of me. Even now, she says, “I can’t believe you’re the queen!”“Well, not yet,” I remind her, looking at my own reflection in the mirror. “There is the matter of getting married—and coronated.”“That’s all just a technicality,” she assures me. “I’m so proud of you, honey!”“I’m proud of you, too.” Carefully, I turn in my long white dress and hug her. The last thing I need to do is tear this gown, though I’m fairly certain Canaan will do that later when he grows impatient with all the buttons.&l