Mag-log inWhose story should I write next, Julian or Aurelia and Darius. Give a comment
By the time the sun starts dipping low over the water, the house has transformed from "chaotic pool day" into something that smells like heaven and sounds like an entire stadium decided to relocate into our backyard.I come downstairs freshly showered, hair still damp, wearing the kind of loose sundress that says *I have zero intention of being fancy tonight* and find the patio already strung with soft lights, long tables pushed together end to end, and enough food to feed a small army. Which, considering who's arriving tonight, isn't far off."You're staring at the pie like it personally wronged you," Caspian says, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder."I'm staring at the pie like I'm about to fall deeply, irreversibly in love with it," I correct. "There's a difference.""Is there?""Cuddly bunny, there is absolutely a difference." I lean back against him, watching the chef's assistant carry out yet another tray — this one loaded with
"Hey, Meine Königin," says Caspian, dropping a kiss on my bare shoulder, dripping and unrepentant. "Hey, you!" I reply, smiling at him. "Where are your other comrades, Aurelia and Darius?" I feel his lips tug up as he smiles against my shoulder. "Not sure…" he answers playfully. "They disappeared not even five minutes into the game." "Did you put those two on opposing teams?" asks Selene, sitting up. "Of course. Can't have the two warriors working on the same team," my mate answers, looking suspiciously innocent. "Bad move," says Silas, still not looking up from his laptop. "They're probably working out their anger." "Yeah, working out their anger. Let's just leave it at that," Selene says, laughing, and flips his laptop closed for him. He looks up and gives her one of his rare, affectionate smiles. Not a second later, Aurelia and Darius saunter out from the open french doors. "Where were you two?" asks my mate, still looking innocent. "We were umm…" Aurelia stumbl
7 YEARS LATER "Stop moving or I'll bite your toe," growls Selene. She's painting my toes sky blue and seems very dedicated to doing it perfectly. "Caspian, quick! Bring that charcuterie board over here or Selene's going to bite my toe off!" I yell at my mate, who's been working on his laptop under the shade near the kitchen. He looks over at us before he stares back at the charcuterie board on the kitchen table. "What? The whole thing?" he asks, incredulous. Yeah, the board is huge. I hear Aurelia laughing from her position on the lounger next to me. I almost roll my eyes at him. Doesn't he know his queen enough by now? My love affair with food is legendary at least among our pack and my family. It has gotten worse since Dominik was born. It's a good thing our metabolism is very high and that we go for a long run and practice fighting almost every day. "Just bring it over and nobody gets hurt, Caspian," mutters Silas, who is sitting next to Selene. He's been concentrating o
"...California," Julian announces, opening his eyes and squinting at the map with the satisfaction of a man whose ridiculous methods have once again, somehow, produced a reasonable result on the second try. "Specifically somewhere near the coast, from the look of it.""California," Caspian repeats flatly."California," I echo, and something warm and enormous unfurls in my chest at the word, so big and sudden it nearly steals my breath. Flying cows, I did not expect a dart to make me feel like this.Because California means somewhere with sunshine. It means somewhere closer to my parents and Genevieve back in Louisiana, close enough that visits don't require a small diplomatic operation every time. It means I could actually finish my degree. The one I put on indefinite hold when my whole life turned sideways into royal politics and mate bonds and arena fights, the one I've been quietly, guiltily missing more than I've admitted to anyone, even Caspian. It means somewhere less bloodstai
"Absolutely not," Caspian says, for what has to be the fourth time in ten minutes. "We are not choosing where we live based on a dart.""It worked last time," Julian says, entirely unbothered, already pinning a massive map of the world to the wall of the study with the calm confidence of a man who has done this exact thing before and sees no reason to change a winning strategy."It worked last time because it happened to land somewhere sane," Caspian says. "It could land in the ocean, Julian. Come on""Then we buy a boat.""We are not buying a boat because you refuse to make a decision like a normal person.""Normal people are boring," Julian says, and produces a dart from seemingly nowhere, twirling it between two fingers with entirely too much enthusiasm for a man about to determine the location of an entire pack's new home.I'm curled up on the study's window seat with a plate of pastries I liberated from the kitchen approximately four minutes ago — small, powdered, absurdly delici
The coronation is held in the Great Hall rather than the conservatory; older, grander, built for exactly this kind of moment, with towering stone columns and stained glass windows depicting the long, bloody, complicated history of the Lycan Monarchy that I've spent the last several weeks reading about in a very old book. It feels strange, walking into a room meant to hold centuries of kings and queens, knowing I'm about to become one more name added to that record. The guests from yesterday are back, along with what feels like every noble and Alpha and dignitary within a thousand miles. I catch sight of Queen Ysolde near the back, still and watchful, that same knowing look on her face. Vesper and Kane are seated with Aurelia, all three looking uncharacteristically formal, though Kane gives me a subtle thumbs up when he catches my eye that makes me want to laugh at entirely the wrong moment. My parents and Genevieve sit in the front row, beside Selene, Silas, Julian, and Darius, al
The next morning, Aurelia arrived at my house with the energy of someone preparing for war. Not emotional support. Not comfort. War. She marched into the kitchen holding two coffees and a notebook an actual notebook. I stared at her from across the table, asking if I should be scared. "Yes," she an
I was trying. That was the embarrassing part. I was actually trying to feel normal again. The movie playing in the background wasn’t even interesting anymore, but Aurelia kept reacting dramatically to every scene like she deserved an award for emotional support. “That man is definitely the killer,”
The days following the rejection passed in a blur of silence. It wasn’t that I couldn’t speak; it was simply that nothing felt worth the effort of moving my lips. Home had become quiet in a way that didn’t feel peaceful, just heavy and still. I stayed in my room most of the time, staring at walls t
I didn’t know why I felt lighter that morning. Maybe it was because I was almost eighteen, or maybe it was because school would finally end soon. Or, more likely, I was just tired of feeling uncertain all the time. Aurelia was already waiting near the lockers when I got to school, though Vesper an







