Hilda“I’m not a child anymore!” Scarlett’s voice echoes across the clearing, sharp and full of heat. She stands at the edge of the porch, hands on her hips, eyes blazing.“I never said you were,” Arlo growls, arms crossed over his chest. “I said you’re not going alone.” They’ve been at it for ten minutes. Which, for them, is actually restraint. Scarlett’s less fiery than I am, but every drop as stubborn.I’m parked in the nearest chair with my tea cooling in my hands and a front-row seat to the drama. Tara, poor thing, is trying not to keel over on the bench across from me. She’s rubbing her massive belly and eyeing the two of them like she’s worried one of them is about to really lose it.Ash sits beside her, one hand resting lightly over hers, watching the argument with an expression of not my monkeys, not my problem. Smart man.I don’t have that luxury, since they are both, in fact, my monkeys, and this argument is very much my problem. I know I’ll have to intervene soon, but in t
ArloLetting Scarlett go is going to kill me. Probably not literally, but emotionally for sure.The thought of her living in a city full of strangers, away from my protection, walking through streets I don’t know with people I can’t watch, makes my blood run cold.Still, she’s right. And Hilda’s right. She’s strong. She’s smart. She’s got power running through her veins like wildfire and a head full of every lesson we’ve ever drilled into her.She’s ready, even if I’m not.But right now... right now I don’t have to think about any of that. Because the woman I love more than life itself just pulled me into our room, shut the door, and is looking at me like I’m her next meal.My hands are already on her hips, tugging her shirt free of her waistband. “I hope you understand I’m just allowing you to enjoy your moment of power before I flip you over,” I inform her casually. My cock throbs at the way her eyes darken.“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” she asks, shimmying out of her pants an
ScarlettI find Chris down by the creek, sitting on the mossy edge with his feet in the water and his shirt tossed over a branch behind him. He’s skimming stones, eyes narrowed in thought, and the moment he sees me, he sighs.“Let me guess,” he says, “Don't go home for a while?” I grin at his perspicacity, “Don’t go home,” I confirm, plopping down beside him and yanking off my boots.He shivers in fake revulsion. “Again? How old are they now? Shouldn’t all the tearing each other’s clothes off constantly have passed by now?”I snort, sliding my toes into the cool water. “Don’t tell them that. They’ll do it more often just to spite us.”Chris shakes his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s impressive, really. The way they’re still into each other.”“It is,” I admit softly. “I mean, I joke about hating it, but… gods, I hope I get to feel that way about someone. One day.”Chris snorts. “You’ve had more than enough offers, Scar. You just keep turning them down.”“Ugh.” I
AshTriplets. She said it so casually. As if it were just a mildly interesting weather report.“Oh, by the way,” Scarlett had chirped when we arrived, “Tara’s having triplets.”Triplets.I’ve fought demons, faced ancient sorcerers, seduced crime lords, and survived drinking sub-par whisky.But this? This will be how I die.Tara’s humming softly from the couch, her hands rubbing slow circles over her very full belly while I pace like a man being slowly crushed under a collapsing bridge.“They’re going to outnumber us, Tara,” I mutter. “Immediately. They’re not even born yet and I’m already outflanked.”“You’re being dramatic, even for you,” she says, serenely amused. “We don’t even know if they’ll all be the same kind of chaos.”“They don’t need to be,” I shoot back. “They’ll form an alliance. Overthrow the leadership. Start issuing curfews and demanding cake at every meal.”Tara snorts, which turns into a soft laugh. “You’re forgetting that Chris was the sweetest, calmest child I’ve e
HildaScarlett’s bag lies open on her bed, and I’ve already tucked three daggers into the side pocket before she even finishes folding her second shirt. She doesn’t notice at first, so I slide a fourth blade in behind a stack of socks. Lightweight. Perfect for her throwing style.“Mom.” Her tone is mild, but suspicious. “Why is my bag rattling?”I feign innocence as I reach for her toiletries bag. “Rattling? Maybe you packed too many glass bottles.” She leans over and unzips the front pocket. “Three knives?”“Four,” I correct her automatically. Then sigh when I see her lifting all of them out and placing them neatly on the dresser. “Scarlett.”“Mom.”“You have no idea what might be out there.” I try to keep my voice level, rational. She doesn’t need to see me spiral into full-blown maternal panic. “You’ve never been away from the pack on your own. Raventon has humans. And rogues. And drunk idiots. And clubs full of creeps who think a pretty girl on her own is fair game.”Scarlett look
ScarlettThe house smells like roast chicken and rosemary potatoes. It’s one of three things mom can cook. The others are tomato soup and spaghetti bolognese.The fire crackles in the hearth even though it’s not that cold outside. It’s there for comfort more than anything else. Warm, golden and fragrant.Mom’s chopping carrots at the counter, efficiently and a little too fast. She can’t cook worth a damn, but put a knife in her hand and she shines.Dad’s been pacing for the last ten minutes, pretending he’s looking for something in the cupboards. Chris is helping himself to all the pre-dinner snacks on the table. I have no idea how he manages to pack away the volume of food he consumes every day.“Sit down,” Mom finally snaps at Dad. “You’re making me dizzy.” He looks at her with injured innocence. “I’m not pacing,” he mutters, but complies. “I didn’t say you were, I told you to sit down. Seems to me you know exactly what you were doing.”He settles into his usual spot at the table, a
ScarlettI didn’t realize how loud the world could be until I stepped into it on my own.The sounds of Raventon press in from every direction—laughter, barking dogs, street musicians, something that might be a mechanical squeal or someone having a meltdown.People are everywhere, bustling past with urgency or strolling like they’ve got all the time in the world. My eyes flick across the signs, the buildings, the uneven cobblestones beneath my feet, trying to match everything up to the map Ash drew for me.It’s a good map. Really. Hand-drawn, with neat block letters and little arrows, even a sketch of the clock tower for use as a landmark.Ash added a ton of interesting and useful information. Which shops sell the best produce, which restaurants offer the best value for money. Where a bit of cheeky flirtation can net you a free coffee or pastry.But the city is alive in a way paper can’t capture. It shifts and breathes and barrels over you like a wave. I have to stop twice just to get
(Hilda)“Hilda, you can’t fight them alone, you have to go! You have to run!” my mate, Alpha Soren, shouts with the last of his strength. He tries to lift himself off the ground, reaching for me, and I take his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.” I kneel beside him, looking into his eyes. “I love you, Soren. We’re going to survive this together. Or we’ll die together.” “No!” He yells. “Please Hilda, you have to run!”As the words leave his lips an arrow strikes my side. I collapse to the ground, laying beside him, as he cries out my name. I want to comfort him, to reassure him I’m alright, but I need to conserve my strength.With great determination I struggle back to my feet. I’m going to keep fighting to protect him until I exhale my last breath.“Hilda. If we make it out of this alive, I’m making you my Luna. No more wasting time. I love you.”***The world is dark all around me, but his words are a warm, soft blanket surrounding my heart. I wonder where the heavy smell of herbs is c
ScarlettI didn’t realize how loud the world could be until I stepped into it on my own.The sounds of Raventon press in from every direction—laughter, barking dogs, street musicians, something that might be a mechanical squeal or someone having a meltdown.People are everywhere, bustling past with urgency or strolling like they’ve got all the time in the world. My eyes flick across the signs, the buildings, the uneven cobblestones beneath my feet, trying to match everything up to the map Ash drew for me.It’s a good map. Really. Hand-drawn, with neat block letters and little arrows, even a sketch of the clock tower for use as a landmark.Ash added a ton of interesting and useful information. Which shops sell the best produce, which restaurants offer the best value for money. Where a bit of cheeky flirtation can net you a free coffee or pastry.But the city is alive in a way paper can’t capture. It shifts and breathes and barrels over you like a wave. I have to stop twice just to get
ScarlettThe house smells like roast chicken and rosemary potatoes. It’s one of three things mom can cook. The others are tomato soup and spaghetti bolognese.The fire crackles in the hearth even though it’s not that cold outside. It’s there for comfort more than anything else. Warm, golden and fragrant.Mom’s chopping carrots at the counter, efficiently and a little too fast. She can’t cook worth a damn, but put a knife in her hand and she shines.Dad’s been pacing for the last ten minutes, pretending he’s looking for something in the cupboards. Chris is helping himself to all the pre-dinner snacks on the table. I have no idea how he manages to pack away the volume of food he consumes every day.“Sit down,” Mom finally snaps at Dad. “You’re making me dizzy.” He looks at her with injured innocence. “I’m not pacing,” he mutters, but complies. “I didn’t say you were, I told you to sit down. Seems to me you know exactly what you were doing.”He settles into his usual spot at the table, a
HildaScarlett’s bag lies open on her bed, and I’ve already tucked three daggers into the side pocket before she even finishes folding her second shirt. She doesn’t notice at first, so I slide a fourth blade in behind a stack of socks. Lightweight. Perfect for her throwing style.“Mom.” Her tone is mild, but suspicious. “Why is my bag rattling?”I feign innocence as I reach for her toiletries bag. “Rattling? Maybe you packed too many glass bottles.” She leans over and unzips the front pocket. “Three knives?”“Four,” I correct her automatically. Then sigh when I see her lifting all of them out and placing them neatly on the dresser. “Scarlett.”“Mom.”“You have no idea what might be out there.” I try to keep my voice level, rational. She doesn’t need to see me spiral into full-blown maternal panic. “You’ve never been away from the pack on your own. Raventon has humans. And rogues. And drunk idiots. And clubs full of creeps who think a pretty girl on her own is fair game.”Scarlett look
AshTriplets. She said it so casually. As if it were just a mildly interesting weather report.“Oh, by the way,” Scarlett had chirped when we arrived, “Tara’s having triplets.”Triplets.I’ve fought demons, faced ancient sorcerers, seduced crime lords, and survived drinking sub-par whisky.But this? This will be how I die.Tara’s humming softly from the couch, her hands rubbing slow circles over her very full belly while I pace like a man being slowly crushed under a collapsing bridge.“They’re going to outnumber us, Tara,” I mutter. “Immediately. They’re not even born yet and I’m already outflanked.”“You’re being dramatic, even for you,” she says, serenely amused. “We don’t even know if they’ll all be the same kind of chaos.”“They don’t need to be,” I shoot back. “They’ll form an alliance. Overthrow the leadership. Start issuing curfews and demanding cake at every meal.”Tara snorts, which turns into a soft laugh. “You’re forgetting that Chris was the sweetest, calmest child I’ve e
ScarlettI find Chris down by the creek, sitting on the mossy edge with his feet in the water and his shirt tossed over a branch behind him. He’s skimming stones, eyes narrowed in thought, and the moment he sees me, he sighs.“Let me guess,” he says, “Don't go home for a while?” I grin at his perspicacity, “Don’t go home,” I confirm, plopping down beside him and yanking off my boots.He shivers in fake revulsion. “Again? How old are they now? Shouldn’t all the tearing each other’s clothes off constantly have passed by now?”I snort, sliding my toes into the cool water. “Don’t tell them that. They’ll do it more often just to spite us.”Chris shakes his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s impressive, really. The way they’re still into each other.”“It is,” I admit softly. “I mean, I joke about hating it, but… gods, I hope I get to feel that way about someone. One day.”Chris snorts. “You’ve had more than enough offers, Scar. You just keep turning them down.”“Ugh.” I
ArloLetting Scarlett go is going to kill me. Probably not literally, but emotionally for sure.The thought of her living in a city full of strangers, away from my protection, walking through streets I don’t know with people I can’t watch, makes my blood run cold.Still, she’s right. And Hilda’s right. She’s strong. She’s smart. She’s got power running through her veins like wildfire and a head full of every lesson we’ve ever drilled into her.She’s ready, even if I’m not.But right now... right now I don’t have to think about any of that. Because the woman I love more than life itself just pulled me into our room, shut the door, and is looking at me like I’m her next meal.My hands are already on her hips, tugging her shirt free of her waistband. “I hope you understand I’m just allowing you to enjoy your moment of power before I flip you over,” I inform her casually. My cock throbs at the way her eyes darken.“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” she asks, shimmying out of her pants an
Hilda“I’m not a child anymore!” Scarlett’s voice echoes across the clearing, sharp and full of heat. She stands at the edge of the porch, hands on her hips, eyes blazing.“I never said you were,” Arlo growls, arms crossed over his chest. “I said you’re not going alone.” They’ve been at it for ten minutes. Which, for them, is actually restraint. Scarlett’s less fiery than I am, but every drop as stubborn.I’m parked in the nearest chair with my tea cooling in my hands and a front-row seat to the drama. Tara, poor thing, is trying not to keel over on the bench across from me. She’s rubbing her massive belly and eyeing the two of them like she’s worried one of them is about to really lose it.Ash sits beside her, one hand resting lightly over hers, watching the argument with an expression of not my monkeys, not my problem. Smart man.I don’t have that luxury, since they are both, in fact, my monkeys, and this argument is very much my problem. I know I’ll have to intervene soon, but in t
AshI’ve faced death, betrayal, magical imprisonment, and Redgrave’s idea of lingerie. None of it prepared me for Scarlett clutching my sleeve at midnight with a ferocious gleam in her eye and a fistful of paintbrushes.“I need you,” she says solemnly. I stare at her. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”“This is art, Ash. Art doesn’t sleep,” she tells me solemnly. “…What?”She tugs me toward their cottage, whispering like we’re about to commit treason. “I have to paint something for Mommy and Daddy before the baby comes. It has to be big. Like mural huge. But I can’t reach the top and what if I mess it up and it looks dumb and then the baby thinks I’m bad at stuff and—”“Stop,” I cut in, holding up a hand. “I am already too tired for this level of drama.” She frowns. “It’s important. And you said I can always count on you.” I don’t point out that this is emotional blackmail.I sigh and look up at the ceiling like the gods might smite me for what I’m about to agree to. Then I crouch to her
CereliaThe fire crackles in the center of the clearing, casting golden light across the circle of familiar faces. Sparks drift lazily into the night sky like stars too impatient to wait their turn.It’s our last night here. Tomorrow, Soren and I return to our own pack. Our forest. Our home. With news that’s sure to thrill our pack.I’m looking forward to being home, but this place has worked its’ way under my skin.The wolves here are loud and brash and complicated. Fierce and loyal. Messy and kind. They welcomed us like we belonged, trusting me to help protect them. Leaving is harder this time than ever before.I move quietly between the groups gathered around the fire. I don’t draw attention to the way my fingers graze a warrior’s arm, easing the tension in his shoulder. Or how I touch Hilda’s wrist for just a moment, infusing the faintest pulse of warmth into her weary body. She's stronger than she looks, but even strong women need rest.She notices, of course. “Still meddling?” s