ArloThe fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls of our room. The warmth should be comforting, but it does nothing to ease the weight pressing down on my chest.Hilda sits on the bed, cross-legged, brushing out her hair, the glossy strands catching the firelight. She looks up at me, knowing something’s wrong before I even speak.“Alright,” she says, setting the brush aside. “What’s wrong?” I exhale slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. “Scouts have reported increased human activity near our borders.”Hilda’s expression sharpens, her body going still. “Hunters?” I shake my head. “No. This feels different. It’s too…organized and there are too many of them. Not like travelers getting lost or the occasional fool wandering too close. They move like men with purpose. And they’re getting closer.”Her lips press into a thin line. “But they haven’t crossed into our lands?” I shake my head, “Not yet.” She frowns, pulling her legs up beneath her. “Then the
HildaCerelia and Soren sit across from us, their expressions grim. I hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood of their visit, but with humans encroaching on our borders, there was no delaying this conversation.They have to know. All the Alphas will need to be told once we know what these men want."This isn’t the first time a human has wandered close to pack lands," Cerelia says slowly. "But you’re saying this feels different?""It is different," Arlo confirms, stopping mid-stride. "They aren’t just stumbling into the vicinity. They’re moving in a careful pattern, testing our defences and borders. And the only way they’d get across the border is if someone leads them.""That’s what worries me most," I admit. "A werewolf had to have brought them close enough to get past the confusion spells." Soren frowns, “Do you have any idea who?”Before I can answer, there’s a rush of movement outside, and the door swings open to reveal Percy, his breath slightly uneven from running."Arlo," he says, stra
MalcolmThe fire flickers in front of me, licking at the dry wood, sending twisting embers up into the blackened sky. The men are laughing, swapping crude jokes, sipping from flasks filled with cheap liquor. Their voices fade into the background as I think about her.Hilda. I roll her name around in my mind. That face, those blue eyes. Sharp, burning with something just beneath the surface. I wonder what she looks like when she cries. When she begs."They were real lookers, huh?" Carter says from across the fire, nudging the guy next to him. "That one with the blue-black hair was fuckin’ exotic looking and the blonde looks like a real Georgia peach."I smirk but say nothing. They think they understand. They don’t. They see a woman with a pretty face. I see something else entirely. Something wild, something worth breaking.Hilda needs someone like me, not a protector like her so-called husband. As if animals get married. She needs to be taught her place, it’s the only way she’ll ever t
HildaI can still feel Malcolm’s eyes on me, like greasy fingerprints smeared across my skin. No matter how many times I rub my arms, no matter how deep I breathe, I can’t shake the feeling of his presence, his voice, the twisted, hollow mockery of a man who plays at being something human.Arlo is pacing. I can feel the storm raging inside him. It crackles through the bond, dark and furious, an echo of my own unease.“I should have killed him.” His voice is low, strained. “Right there. I should’ve ripped his throat out for looking at you that way. Speaking to you like you’re... a possession.”I know he means it. I don’t doubt for a second that if I asked, if I simply whispered that Malcolm frightened me, that he made my stomach turn to ice and my heart thunder with dread, Arlo would go back. He’d hunt Malcolm down and finish what should have been done long ago.But I don’t want to talk about Malcolm. I don’t want his shadow stretching into this moment, poisoning it. I cross the room a
HildaThe cool night air does little to ease the weight pressing down on my chest. The murmurs of the warriors gathered outside the pack house are a dull hum in the background. Everyone is on edge.I stand slightly apart from them, the firelight flickering against my skin, my arms crossed tight against my body as I watch Arlo.His expression is inscrutable, but I know him well enough to know that when his body grows that still, his mind is working overtime and he’s fighting not to show his agitation. His jaw tightens ever so slightly and I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing I am.“If news gets out about our existence, we’re in big trouble,” I say, my voice just above a whisper. Arlo exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “We’ve managed to confirm the presence of 21 men so far,” he tells me.“If we wait, more may come,” I murmur. “They’re probing, testing us. Seeing how far they can push before we react.”He nods, his eyes dark with worry. “Malcolm’s not just playing games. He’s sett
SorenThe forest is still, but I can feel the presence of intruders like a thorn in my side. Nothing feels the way it should. The forest doesn’t want them here any more than we do.Percy moves beside me, his steps as silent as my own, our senses stretched to their limits. The scent of damp earth and the distant rustle of unseen creatures surround us, but we focus only on what matters. Finding the men who don't belong here.Tracking is instinct, something ingrained in me from the moment I could shift. Every snapped twig, every displaced leaf tells a story. And right now, the story unfolding is one of careful, deliberate infiltration.Malcolm's men are good. Not good enough to hide from us forever, but good enough that we have to work to find them. I’m not fond of blowing my own horn, but very few others are in my league when it comes to tracking. Patience isn’t a common werewolf trait, but one that’s imperative in a good tracker.Percy crouches, sniffing the air, his expression tighten
Cerelia I find Soren outside, pacing in the dim light of dawn. His steps are restless, his brow furrowed unhappily. He barely looks up as I approach, but I don’t need to see his eyes to know what he’s thinking.I already know what’s on his mind. The same thing that’s weighing on everyone. I stop just short of him, reaching out to grip his hand. “There’s another way,” I inform him. I’m a little hurt he didn’t think to at least ask whether there was something I could do to help.He finally glances at me, his sharp, assessing gaze flicking over my face. “What are you talking about?”“The humans,” I say, taking a step closer. “We don’t have to kill them.” He looks at me questioningly, but he doesn’t interrupt. It’s one of the things I love most about him. He’ll always hear me out and carefully consider my input.“My powers are so much stronger now,” I continue, “You know I’ve been practicing and learning so much these past years. If we capture them, I can erase their memories. I’ll do my
HildaCerelia, Soren, Arlo and I are seated around the kitchen table, talking in whispers. “We need to make sure we pinpoint Malcolm’s position and set someone to stay close until we’ve surrounded him,” Arlo says.Scarlett’s playing with her toys in the lounge and I didn’t think she could even hear us when she speak up in a soft, almost sing-song voice. “He doesn’t care about money. Or even winning. He just likes watching.”The room goes silent. A cold prickle runs down my spine. Around me, the others exchange glances, their postures shifting. No one speaks, but I can feel the unease settling like a thick fog.I try to keep my body loose and relaxed as I walk over to Scarlett, crouching beside her and gently tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Her small fingers clutch one of her stuffed animals, a well-loved unicorn with matted fur.“What do you mean, sweetheart?” I ask softly. “Who likes to watch what?” She shrugs, not looking up. “The man you’re talking about. He likes seeing what
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