LOGINLyra Voss is a curse-born Omega in the Ashcroft Pack, blamed for her parents' deaths, cast out by the only family she had left, and carrying a secret she doesn’t yet understand. She has silver eyes that nobody can explain and a bloodline everyone believes is extinct. King Jasper Vael has spent his life building a kingdom on iron and silence. He has never been shaken. Not until the night the mate bond snapped into place in the middle of a public ceremony linking him to an Omega cursed with the blood of those who destroy. He rejected her immediately. Completely. Publicly. He has been looking for her ever since. Now Lyra is pregnant, cast out, and running from rogues when a rival Alpha finds her at his border and takes her in without asking questions, she is not ready to answer. She has twin daughters, no pack, no protection and no idea that the Lycan King’s most trusted Beta has been feeding information to the enemy for years or that a silver-laced poison is slowly killing Caspian’s mother and no healer in any pack can stop it. Except the last living descendant of the Moonborn Healers. The girl he called an insult. The woman who survived him. The mate he needs to beg. Some bloodlines cannot stay buried. Some bonds cannot be broken. And some kings must choose between the throne they built and the woman the moon chose for them.
View More"Nobody lets go," I said again, and this time it came out as a prayer.The crack in the floor widened to the width of a hand. Dust and salt rained from the ceiling. Far above us, the great stone door ground another inch toward closing, and every one of us felt it, the way you feel a lid coming down on a jar."It always closes," Tamsin said, her small voice shaking. "That's how it keeps me. That's how it kept everyone out, and me in." She wrapped both her arms around herself. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can feel it starting.""What's starting?" Cole demanded, one hand locked around Dessa's, the other around Yseult's."Everything I let go of."She was right. I felt it a heartbeat later, like a river deciding to break its banks. The pull that had been a patient mouth became a tide, then a flood. The warmth drained out of my hands. Milo made a thin, frightened sound against my back. Yseult sagged against Oriane. And Corvane, at the end of the rope, dropped to one knee with grey light boil
The stair was too narrow for a chain, so we went down as a rope, one behind another, each of us gripping the hand ahead and the hand behind. Jasper led with Seren on his arm and Veal's small fist locked around her sister's fingers. I came next, with Milo pressed against my back. Behind us were Oriane, Yseult, Dessa, Cole, and last of all, because I had asked and because no one dared refuse, Corvane.The walls were white with old salt. Carved into them, so worn they were almost smooth, ran the same spiral over and over, two arms curling toward each other and never touching.We had gone perhaps forty steps when the pull began.It was not like the hollow I had felt in the earth above. That had been a tide. This was a mouth. It opened in the dark below us and drew, patiently and without malice, at the gift in my chest, at the breath in my lungs, at the warmth in my hands. My knees loosened. Behind me, I heard Dessa gasp and stagger."Don't stop," Yseult said, and her voice was thin. "Don'
"Don't," I said, and put both hands over my daughters' joined ones.The gold-silver thread went still. It did not vanish. It simply stopped, trembling, an arm's length above the water, like a living thing waiting to be told whether it had been scolded."Seren," I said. "Veal. Who's waiting?""The girl," Veal said, as if it were obvious."She's cold," said Seren. Her voice was small and clear and very serious. "She's been counting. She lost the number."Something broke open in my chest. I did not look at Corvane. I could not. I looked at my daughters' faces, round and calm and absolutely unafraid, and I understood that whatever lay under the water, they did not think of it as a monster. They thought of it as someone they had been late to meet."Listen to me," I said, and I said it loud enough for the whole ring of pillars to hear. "I'm not choosing between my daughters. Not for him, not for forty thousand people, not for anyone. If the only answer on that door is a child, then the answ
We went down at first light, because Jasper said that if we were walking into a trap, we would do it with the sun behind us.The slope was loose shale and old ruin, and the basket on Jasper's saddle swayed gently with every step. Cole rode at the rear with Dessa. Oriane stayed close to my left stirrup. Yseult had not let go of her medical satchel since the ridge.The crowd did not move as we approached.I had braced for a roar, or a rush, or the hum of a mob deciding what it wanted. There was nothing. Thousands stood ankle-deep in the cold water, shoulder to shoulder, and every one of them turned to watch us pass without a sound. Then, row by row, they stepped aside, as quietly as grass bending under wind, until a lane opened in front of us all the way to the broken crown at the valley's heart.Their faces were the worst of it. Hollow cheeks. Cracked lips. Children on their mothers' hips with the lax, patient stillness of the very hungry. And every person held something in both hands:






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