CereliaI’m not quite asleep, but I can sense something beckoning to me. Perhaps another nightmare waiting to bleed into reality. But I move closer anyway, drawn by a whisper that is neither sound nor silence.A presence lingers here, just beyond the veil of the living. I’ve never communed with the dead before and I’m honestly not overly eager to start now.A shiver runs through me and it feels like the world is holding its’ breath. Time stretches interminably and then, from the darkness, a voice speaks.“Cerelia.” I don’t flinch, even if every instinct I possess screams at me to run. The voice is hollow, echoing as if spoken through a cavern of time.A figure flickers into existence before me. A pale woman, her face gaunt, silvery eyes filled with something ancient and knowing.“Who are you?” I ask, my voice firm despite the ice creeping down my spine. “The one chosen to deliver a warning,” she says, and it’s not just her voice I hear. It’s the weight of countless others before her,
HildaThe silence after Cerelia’s warning is suffocating. Thick with unspoken fears and impossible choices. My hand trembles where it rests against my stomach, protectively hovering over the innocent life in there. She hasn’t even taken her first breath, and yet she’s already at the centre of a deadly conflict.Arlo stands across from me, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. I can see his impotent fury at this untenable situation. He wants to fight. To strategize. But this isn’t a battle of strength or tactical maneuvering.“We have to talk to Astaroth,” I say, breaking the silence. The words taste like poison on my tongue. “No.” Arlo’s response is instant, as sharp as a blade. His eyes burn as they meet mine. “We’ll find another way.”“There isn’t one.” My voice wavers, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “I don’t dare attempt to wield Veilbreaker while I’m still pregnant. We don’t know what it would do to our daughter if my life essence is drained and it’s the only thing we
ArloHilda is quiet as we walk, but her fingers remain tightly laced with mine, her grip tight, as if she’s afraid I might slip away. The air is thick, heavy with the threat of a coming thunderstorm, but the weight pressing down on my chest has nothing to do with the weather.I glance at Hilda from the corner of my eye, at the set of her jaw, the way she seems to permanently keep one hand protectively over her stomach lately. I know she’s trying to be strong, trying to accept the choice we’ve made.The choice I made. The only one I can live with. I squeeze her hand, “You’re too quiet. That never means anything good.” She exhales sharply through her nose. “I’m just thinking.”“Dangerous endeavour, you wouldn’t want to go making a habit of it.” That earns me a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Are we absolutely sure this is the only way?” she asks, her voice abnormally tentative. “That you have to deal with him?”It breaks my heart that she’s holding onto some small shred of h
Hilda I want to scream. I want to claw at what remains of the walls of this ruined temple and tear the very foundation apart, rip through stone and time itself, anything to stop the words that are spilling from Arlo’s lips.But I can’t. I can only stand here, hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I watch the man I love offer himself to a demon.Arlo’s voice is steady, resolute. “Tell me what you want as payment for ending Morgana.” Astaroth pretends to think about it, “Your soul, and then your life. You could be a useful guard dog in the underworld. I have many enemies down there. Demons who are jealous of my success.”No. No, no, no. Arlo nods calmly, “Fine. But only after our daughter is born and I know she and Hilda are both healthy and safe, and Morgana is gone.”Astaroth smiles, slow and indulgent, as if savoring a particularly fine wine. “Ah. The noble sacrifice. How very predictable. It hurts that you won’t just take my word that I’ll uphold my
Hilda“Hilda, we already had an agreement. You had no right to gamble with your life that way. What if the demon didn’t back down and instead he attacked you?” Arlo growls, his voice low and vibrating with barely controlled fury.His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, his entire body tense, like he’s one breath away from shifting.I step toward him, meeting his anger head-on. “I will not apologize for refusing to accept that you offer your life in exchange for ours.” My voice shakes, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of what we’ve just done. “I won’t lose you, Arlo. I won’t.”“Oh, by all means,” Astaroth drawls, stretching his arms as if this entire situation is mildly amusing. “Please, continue to have your domestic spat right here in front of me. I don’t have places to be. And ‘the demon’ has a name and feelings. Spurious accusations of unwarranted violence wounds me deeply.”I glare at him. “I highly doubt that.” He places a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Wow
Morgana The air in my chamber shifts, the temperature plummeting as the shadows deepen unnaturally. The scent of brimstone lingers on the edges of my senses before I hear the slow, deliberate click of boot heels on the wooden floor."Morgana, darling," Astaroth purrs, his voice as smooth and decadent as aged whiskey, laced with something far more potent and dangerous. "Did you miss me? You don’t visit, you don’t write, I’m feeling all blue at this terrible neglect."I don’t startle or betray the ripple of unease slithering down my spine. Instead, I turn in a leisurely fashion, an indulgent smirk curling my lips as I take him in.He lounges against the doorframe, every inch the devilish aristocrat he delights in portraying. More shadow than person but he manages to give the general idea. Sharp features are framed by a fall of obsidian hair, his midnight-black attire pristine save for the faint trace of blood at his cuff. Whose, I do not know. Nor do I care."Astaroth," I coo, lifting
CereliaSoren and I arrived late last night. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Hilda’s time was near and I insisted we come and wait. My best friend isn’t going through labor without me there to help.I step out onto the porch, stretching beneath the pale morning sun. Arlo’s pack has been nothing but welcoming since Soren and I arrived, but there’s an undercurrent of tension in the air. The anticipation of Hilda’s labor and a lingering fear of Tara’s prediction about their Luna is keeping everyone on edge.Hilda joins me, walking over from their cabin next door. She settles into one of the wooden chairs with great care. She looks exhausted, but there’s a glint of resolve in her gaze.“I never thought it would come to this,” Hilda murmurs, breaking the silence. I don’t need to ask what she means. The deal with Astaroth lingers like a ghost between us, its’ potential consequences a looming shadow.“You did what you had to,” I say, leaning against the railing. “The other option was a dea
ArloHilda’s screams could probably be heard in the next territory over. And if they can’t, she’s doing her best to make sure they will be soon. “Breathe, love,” I say, brushing her damp hair from her face.She turns the full force of her glare on me, “If you tell me to breathe one more time, I swear on the moon, I will rip your throat out.” Cerelia snorts softly but wisely keeps her attention on the business end of this operation.I swallow hard, nodding. “Right. No more breathing advice.”Hilda groans as another contraction seizes her, fingers digging into my forearm with strength that would make towering warriors cower.I would take every ounce of her pain if I could, bear it a thousand times over just to spare her this agony. But all I can do is kneel beside her, letting her crush my hand as she brings our daughter into the world.“You did this to me,” she growls, panting through the pain. “I know,” I say solemnly, as though she’s just sentenced me to exile. “I’m so sorry.” She na
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