HildaThe water is blissfully warm, wrapping around me like silk as I sink deeper into the natural pool. Steam curls into the cool evening air, tendrils of mist rising around the jagged rocks that frame the hot spring.Arlo watches me from the other side of the spring, the muscles in his arms flexing as he grips the smooth stone edge. The molten hunger in his gaze makes my breath catch.He hasn’t looked away from me since we slipped into the water, as if he’s savoring the sight of me, burning it into his memory. The space between us feels charged and alive, like a tether pulling me toward him.You’re staring again,” I murmur, a slow smile curving my lips. He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he pushes off the rock and moves through the water with incredible grace, closing the distance between us in record time.My pulse quickens as he reaches me, his hands finding my waist beneath the water, the heat of his touch searing even through the steam. “How could I not?” he asks. His voice is low, ro
ArloPacking up the few belongings we took with us to the mountain cabin takes less than a minute.“I don’t want to leave,” I tell Hilda, eyeing the wonderfully inviting bed again. She laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Our people need us to come back. The only real difference is that we’ll be wearing clothes back home, nothing else was all that different here.”She’s not completely wrong. We do fuck a lot at home too, but not whenever the mood strikes. Which is every minute of every day.I shouldn’t complain. Leading our people is a privilege, even more so now that I have my incredible Luna by my side and our firstborn on the way.The moment we cross the border into our territory, I can feel it. The air is thick with expectation, the weight of responsibility settling back onto my shoulders like an old, familiar cloak.Hilda runs alongside me in her wolf form, her sleek coat brushing against mine as we cross the final stretch home. We haven’t spoken much since leaving the moun
HildaThe knife strapped to my thigh feels like a lifeline. It’s a comforting weight, pressing against my skin as I move through the halls of the pack house. I haven’t stopped there though. I now have one at my back and each of my inner arms.It’s ridiculous. I know it is. I’m surrounded by warriors, by my mate, by the safety of our home, but I can’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, is watching me.And I don’t think it’s Damon. Undoubtedly he’s out there too, but this feels seriously malevolent. Making the hair stand up on the back of my neck all day level of evil. Damon is a piece of shit, but I can’t believe his gaze would do this to me.Arlo notices, of course. He always does. “Is there a reason you’re suddenly carrying weapons everywhere?” he asks one evening as he leans against the bedroom doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. His tone is light, teasing, but his sharp gaze watches me closely.“Have you seen Damon?” he asks in concern. I sigh, tugging my sweat
TaraThe voice starts as a whisper. A distant hum threading through the edges of my thoughts. At first, I think it’s just exhaustion. Too many restless nights, too much tension hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. But then I start losing time.I wake up in places I don’t remember going.The first time, I brush it off. Maybe I was just distracted, walking on autopilot. The second time, I feel a twinge of unease, but I push it down. But by the third, when I come to, standing in the middle of the hallway with no memory of how I got there, my fingers curl so tight they ache and I know something is wrong.And the voice. Gods, the insidiously whispering voice. It’s stronger now. Familiar and foreign all at once. Come, it calls, gentle as a lover’s breath against my ear. I’ve waited so long.I tell myself I’m imagining it, that it’s stress, that I’m unravelling after everything that’s happened and the constant worry about Hilda and her pregnancy. But then, one night, my body mov
ArloThe war room hums with tension. Warriors and Alphas from our neighboring packs fill the space, their scents a mixture of dominance, unease, and simmering aggression.Maps are spread across the long table, marked with recent rogue attacks. It’s happening more frequently now.I press my palms against the wood, levelling my gaze at the gathered leaders. "We all know why we're here. Rogue activity has increased, and we have every reason to believe Damon is behind it."A low murmur runs through the room. No one looks surprised. "We've been tracking their movements," I continue. "They're circling, probing for weak points, but they haven't made a direct move yet. That tells me one thing, Damon is hunting."The room falls silent, eyes swivelling to my lovely wife. Everyone knows who he’s hunting.Hilda sits beside me, her expression unreadable. She’s listening intently, but I can feel her impatience, the barely restrained urge to be out there fighting instead of talking. I admire her for
HildaSomething isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, coiled in my chest like a serpent, just waiting for the right moment to strike. And there’s no way Damon is causing this kind of anxiety in me.My bond with Arlo is indestructible. His touch anchors me and his love fortifies me. Our pack is united. They’re all giddy with excitement about the baby and no hidden whispers of dissent linger in the air. They love Arlo now and as conceited as it sounds, they adore me. Crediting me with saving their King.Despite all of this, the sense of dread won’t let go of me. I want to spend every day out on patrol with the warriors, but not even my stubborn streak trumps the swollen feet brought about by my current condition when I stand for too long.Then the dreams start.I’m standing in an endless field of snow, the silence so thick it presses against my ears. I want to reach for Arlo, but I know he’s not there. Then, suddenly, the snow shifts and dozens of wolves rise from the
TaraThe voice isn’t just a whisper anymore. It’s a constant presence, slithering through my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like creeping vines. Morgana doesn’t just speak to me, she presses against me, her will curling around mine, demanding more, more, more.And the worst part is that I’m starting to feel her power calling to me.It started subtly. A tingling in my fingertips. A flicker of something curling in my chest. But then the surges started. Raw bursts of energy that left me gasping, burning from the inside out. It feels wonderful when it happens, intoxicating and limitless.But when it’s over it leaves me empty and hollowed out. Like some integral part of me has been siphoned away.You’re not losing anything, Morgana purrs in my mind. You’re becoming what you were always meant to be.I dig my nails into my palm, trying to anchor myself. No, I think fiercely. I’m part of this pack. This is my home. I’m already who I’m meant to be.She laughs, a sound like crackling embers.
DamonHilda was alone. For a moment, I thought the gods had finally answered my prayers as she stood frozen over the body, her face pale in the moonlight, eyes wide with shock.I crept close enough to smell the iron tang of blood in the air, to hear the way her breath hitched in her throat. I had the perfect vantage point, hidden in the shadows, watching her, waiting for the right moment.But then I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck. The unmistakable sensation of being watched. I retreated before I could be seen, disappearing into the darkness, cursing whoever had ruined my chance.Now, sitting in the depths of our makeshift camp, I replay the moment over and over. If I had been just a little faster, if I had stepped in before she’d noticed the body, she would be dead. The thought sends rage curling through my gut.The fire crackles in front of me, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the warriors who followed me into exile. It still stings that only ten of them stayed l
CereliaIt’s still very early. Soren’s arm is slung lazily over my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck, and for once everything is quiet. There are no spells humming through my bones. No humans to manipulate. No wolves to protect. Just warmth and peace in the arms of the man I love.And the deep, delicious ache in my muscles from a night spent in his arms. I close my eyes and sigh contentedly.And that’s when the knock comes. Three quick raps on the door. Then silence. Another two knocks, this time faster.Followed by, “I know you’re awake! I can hear you breathing!” Soren groans into my shoulder. “She’s back.”“I’m not going away,” Scarlett adds through the door. “And I’m very hungry.” I bite back a laugh and start to roll over, but Soren tightens his arm around me with a huff.“She’s our godchild, I have to let her in,” I tell him. “It’s too early,” he groans. I pat his hand before wriggling out of bed and pull on one of his shirts, which falls all the way to my knees
ArloI can’t keep my hands off her and I have no intention of trying to.The second we shut the door behind us, I pin her against it, mouth crashing down on hers with what feels like weeks of pent-up want. Hell, years of it. A lifetime of need. Even though I spent all night worshipping her just last night. I will never get enough of her.Hilda kisses me back like she’s starving.Her fingers dive into my hair, tugging just the way she knows drives me mad, and I groan, grinding against her, feeling her swell press into me. Our child, safe and warm in her body while I press her against the wall like a man possessed.“Arlo,” she pants, pulling back enough to look at me, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed. “We should get to the bed-”“I’ll carry you,” I growl, already sweeping her into my arms before she finishes the sentence. She squeals and laughs, smacking my shoulder. “Caveman.”“My caveman charm worked on you, didn’t it?” I ask cockily. “It worked once,” she says with a giggle.I dr
HildaThe clearing is glowing with golden lantern light, strung from tree to tree like stars caught in the branches. Music floats through the air, lively and cheerful, and the scent of roasted meat, baked bread, and spiced cider wraps around everything like a warm embrace.Laughter, chatter, music, love, and everyone I care about safe and sound. It’s perfect.Scarlett darts past me, her curls bouncing, a sticky bun in each hand and powdered sugar smudged across her cheek. She’s already danced with half the warriors here, been given three new hair ribbons, and convinced Nixie to teach her the “grown-up” steps to a waltz. The child is utterly spoiled and utterly adored. Just as she should be.My gaze drifts across the party, a small smile tugging at my lips.Nixie and Percy are twirling in the open space near the fire, laughing as Percy dips her dramatically, nearly dropping her before catching her again. She swats him playfully and he leans in to kiss her shoulder. They’re so in love i
TaraThe tea is barely warm, but I don’t care. It’s quiet in the cottage, and Ash is here, lounging on the couch like he owns the place, one long leg stretched out, the other bent so his arm can rest on his knee. He’s watching me sip my tea like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.And he keeps leaning closer. I give him a mock glare. “Ash.” He brushes his nose against my cheek, kissing the corner of my mouth. “What?”“You know what.” His grin is wicked. “I’m just admiring you,” he protests, his innocent tone completely at odds with the glint in his eyes. “I swear, if you kiss me again, we won’t make it back to the party-”He kisses me again and I lose myself in him for several minutes before gathering the strength of will to pull back.“Ash,” I laugh, pushing lightly at his shoulder. “I’m serious! Hilda will drag us out of here naked if she has to. And I will never recover.”“Neither will she,” he mutters. “Which is why I’m being very responsible right now.” I snort. “Your d
AshAfter two days in Tara’s bed, I honestly wasn’t sure my legs still worked. They do, but just barely.We’ve both managed to stumble out into the daylight today, blinking and dazed like creatures dragged from some romantic fairy tale.Sore, hungry, and maybe a little too pleased with ourselves. Tara’s gone off to help Cerelia with decorations, and I’ve been assigned the incredibly noble task of carrying boxes of cider to the main clearing where Hilda’s preparing to throw what I’ve been assured will be a “respectably rowdy” victory celebration.The werewolves are happy. Relaxed. They laugh louder. Touch more freely – which is saying a lot. The tension that used to hum just beneath the surface is gone for now.They survived. And they’re still free to live as they choose. The human world blissfully unaware of their existence.I’m halfway through hauling the second crate of bottles when I hear the unmistakable patter of quick little footsteps, followed by an even quicker voice.“There y
TaraI’ve never felt anything like this.Not just the physical sensation of Ash’s hands and mouth on my skin, though even that alone would be enough to steal my breath. It’s the bond. The raw, unfiltered tether between us. Every touch he gives me, I feel twice. My own response and his.His hunger. His awe. His aching, consuming need. It rushes through me like fire laced with starlight.Every pass of his lips over my skin, every brush of his fingers, echoes back into my body in waves, dizzying and electric. I arch beneath him with a soft cry, overwhelmed, and he moans into my throat like he feels it too.Because he does. I glance up at him, his hair falling loose around his face, his pupils blown wide with desire, and my heart stutters.“Ash,” I whisper. “It’s too much. I feel everything you do-”“I know,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Gods, Tara, I know. It’s driving me mad and I don’t want it to stop.”He kisses down my stomach, his hands holding my thighs open like I’m something sacre
AshFor a long, breathless moment, I can’t move. Tara’s lips are soft and warm against mine, trembling just slightly, like she’s not sure I’ll kiss her back.But I do. Gods, I do. My arms fold around her instinctively, drawing her closer, and everything else, everything dark and twisted and sharp, fades into nothing.The world narrows to her body pressed against mine. Her mouth, open and trusting. Her hands fisting gently into the front of my shirt.I kiss her slowly, reverently, afraid to shatter the fragile magic threading between us. Her lips taste like honey and forever. Like everything I’ve ever wanted and never dared to ask for. Every time I move to pull away, she tilts her face to follow me, like she can’t bear to stop.And gods, I think I might break.When we finally come up for air, we’re both breathless. She gazes up at me, cheeks flushed, eyes luminous in the low lamplight. “Close the door,” she whispers. “Come to bed with me.”My heart does something strange in my chest. L
TaraCerelia can barely keep her eyes open as Ash and I help her up the path toward her and Soren’s cabin.Her steps are slow and dragging, her head lolling against Ash’s shoulder more than once, but she’s still stubbornly mumbling that she’s fine even as she stumbles.I tighten my grip under her arm. “You're not fine. You're spent. Let us carry you.” Cerelia slow blinks at me, before shaking her head. “I’ll walk.” Clearly Hilda’s rubbed off on her.Ash says nothing, but his jaw is tight, and I can feel the way he braces her against him more firmly, almost carrying her by the time we reach the porch, but leaving her the illusion that her feet are nearly touching the ground.Soren comes sprinting over, “There you are! I ran over to look for you once we were sure the humans left our land, but you were gone!” He’s already scooping her up in his arms like she weighs nothing at all. She doesn’t complain this time, sighing happily as she turns her head into his chest.“You’re amazing,” he m
HildaCerelia is swaying on her feet, pale and drained, but when I step closer, she straightens with visible effort. I hesitate for a heartbeat. She’s already given more than enough today. She shouldn’t have to give more.I can’t ask her to restore Malcolm’s memories just so I can have my revenge. “Thank you for everything. You should go and rest,” I tell her.She looks back at me, exhausted but clear-eyed, a half-smile on her lips as she informs me, “He remembers everything.”I exhale slowly, tension bleeding out of me, hugging her for giving me this gift. I need him to remember. I need him to know why he’s being punished.I double check Malcolm for weapons. I’m not taking any chances with him. Even armed, I know I can take him, but I don’t want any interruptions or unnecessary struggles. He’s taken up too much of our time already.I grab a single leash from the pile the warriors dropped earlier and snap it to the heavy collar locked around his throat. “I’ll see you back at the pack