LOGIN"Don't stop."He didn't. His hand slid up under the hem of my borrowed shirt, his palm rough and warm against my ribs, and slowly sliding up my breasts… My fingers found his hair, his collar, the laces at his throat, pulling him closer, greedy for more of him. I could feel his cock already getting hard against his pants. And oh how wet I was too. If it weren’t for the cold, I would’ve been wet the very day i laid eyes on him too. He was beautiful! He is beautiful! “Oh, Liora, fuck! You are delivious!” He groaned against my skin when I arched into him. The sound went straight through me."This alright?" he asked, mouth still at my throat, voice wrecked."If you stop asking, it will be."A huff of laughter, breathless, against my collarbone, and then his teeth grazed the same spot, gentle enough to ask, hard enough to make my knees forget their job. I could feel slick pooling down my thighs. I couldn’t help it… Oh goddess I couldn’t My shirt came loose from where I'd tucked it, his
"Do you love him?"Stiles asked it plain, like something he's been sitting on for days and finally can't hold anymore.The question landed somewhere under my ribs and stayed there. Out past the porch rail, the valley lay under a thin coat of new snow, silver-blue and empty, and I found myself grateful for something to look at that wasn't his face while I worked out whether I actually had an answer."I.. I don't know." It was easier to say out loud in the dark, to someone who wasn't asking to hurt me with it. "My wolf, that's not a question. What she feels for him is just there, all the time, like a second heartbeat I never agreed to grow. Whether the rest of me loves him. The part that isn't wolf at all. I haven't had time to find out. Everything's been survival since the day I met him.""That's not really an answer.""I know." I pulled my knees up under Mael's weight, tucking the blanket tighter around him without needing to look. "What about you. You ever love anyone, before all thi
LioraThe candle flame bent sideways.I almost missed it. I was half-watching Mael where he lay on the fur rug, half-listening to Wren narrate an elaborate story about a fox she'd apparently befriended over the summer, and the candle on the shelf behind them guttered like a draft had caught it. Except there was no draft. The shutters were latched. The fire in the hearth burned straight and undisturbed six feet away.The flame bent toward Mael. Held there, a slow curve of gold leaning like a compass needle finding north, for three full seconds, before it snapped back upright like nothing had happened at all. Strange.I told myself it was the fire settling. I told myself the same thing two days later when I found every dead leaf in a wide, unnatural ring around his basket had gone soft and green again, as if autumn had reversed itself in a two-foot circle and nowhere else. I told myself a great many convenient things, that week, because the alternative was sitting with what Maren had s
StilesGideon found me at the wood pile, which meant he'd been watching the cabin long enough to know I'd be there, which meant this conversation had been coming since the morning Liora's fever broke and half of Whitewaters started whispering about the woman with royal blood on her skin.He'd built this valley out of nothing but debts and dead ends fifteen years before I ever found my way here, back when I was still a boy with a Vanguard scar I hadn't earned honestly and nowhere else that would take me. Gideon was pushing sixty now, silver through what was left of his beard, a limp in the left leg that only showed when he was tired, and not one soul in Whitewaters had ever seen him raise his voice. He didn't need to. Men who'd survived what Gideon had survived rarely did."Heard you've got a guest," Gideon said. No greeting. Gideon didn't believe in wasting words on things that weren't information."Heard right." I split another log, mostly so I'd have something to do with my hands t
LioraThree days.That was how long it took the fever to break, according to Brenna, who announced this the way she announced everything else in her domain –without asking whether anyone wanted to hear it, and while stirring something that smelled like burnt sage and old socks over the cookfire."Three days is fast, for Alpha sickness," she said, not looking up from her pot. "We had a woman here two winters back, took her three weeks to stop trying to claw her way north. You're either stronger than you look, or that bond of yours isn't as deep as it thinks it is.""It's deep," I said, before I could stop myself.Brenna's eyebrows went up. She was somewhere past sixty, built like a woman who'd spent those sixty years doing things that would have killed a softer person, with a long grey braid and hands scarred from what I was fairly sure was both cooking fires and combat. She'd looked at me exactly once, the morning after the fever broke, sniffed hard enough to make her opinion known, a
StilesThe cold hit like a wall the second the door shut behind me, but it was the scent that stopped me on the porch steps — old blood, and under it, something sour and diseased that didn't belong to any wolf I'd ever tracked.Wererats. Again, or still. I hadn't decided yet whether it was the same pack that had gone after Liora two nights ago, working their way back along her trail, or a second group drawn in by whatever had drawn the first — the baby's scent, maybe, or hers, sweetened now by fever and Alpha pheromones she had no idea how to mask.I counted four shapes moving along the tree line. They weren’t attacking. They were simply watching.That was worse.I'd killed wererats before. Ugly work, really… they didn't die like proper wolves, didn't have the decency to go down clean, they just kept coming on broken legs until you took the head off. Four of them wasn't a fight I loved my odds in, not alone, not with a fevered woman and an infant locked in the one building I couldn't a
Tears of sheer, human humiliation leaked from the corners of my eyes, rolling down my temples into my hair. I was trapped. I was listening to my own mouth spout the most filthy, submissive, degrading pleas, begging a man who had just sold me out to a council of warlords.Riven’s golden eyes flared
LioraI woke up in a bed.That sounds like the smallest, most unremarkable thing. But after three years of a husband who monitored my pillow count and two weeks on a clinic cot with straps on my wrists, the weight of a real mattress beneath me — thick and warm and clean — felt so foreign it trigger
KaelenThe jagged tracks of the carriage wheels were permanently gouged into the mud.I stood at the edge of the pack square, staring down at the deep ruts left behind by those demonic horses. The freezing wind bit at my face, but I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel my fingers. All I could feel was
‘Mine.’The single word slammed into my chest like a physical blow.When Kaelen rejected me, just moments ago, the severing of our bond felt like a rusted blade dragging through my soul, leaving me hollowed out and dying. Typical werewolf reprisal to a severed bond. But this? This was a supernova.







