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
ScarlettRaventon is louder than I expected.I stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, blinking as the chaos presses in on all sides. Cars honk, music blares from open doors, voices rise and fall in a constant, unrelenting buzz.My head spins from the non-stop onslaught of stimuli. I pull Ash’s hand-drawn map from my bag and squint at it, trying to orient myself. He wasn’t kidding when he said this part of town was always busy.The map is good, extremely detailed with landmarks carefully noted, but none of that changes the fact that I feel like a hay bale dropped in the middle of a tornado.A woman passing by catches my confused look and smiles. “You lost, sweetheart?”“Kind of,” I admit. “I’m looking for Calder Street?” She gestures behind me. “Take the next right and go straight for two blocks. You’ll see it.”“Thank you!” I tuck the map away and head off in the direction she pointed. I only make it another block before I stop again, turning in a slow circle. None of the signs m
ScarlettI stop walking when the buildings continue to be unfamiliar. For a second, I just stand there, in the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by the clatter of footsteps and the hum of Raventon life.The map Ash gave me is still folded in my back pocket, but when I pull it out and study it again, none of the street names around me match. There’s no “Silvertail Books” or “Ollie’s Curry House” on this hand-drawn paper, only smudged arrows and cocky annotations like “Best bakery. Tell Rita Ash sent you. She’ll give you extra cinnamon rolls.”None of that helps me now.I spin slowly in place, hoping something, anything, will look familiar, but it doesn’t.I take a deep breath. Don’t panic. This is fine. You’re fine. Just lost in a city full of strangers. It’s not even a big deal.I square my shoulders and turn around, prepared to backtrack and maybe find someone who looks like they won’t try to sell me drugs or show me a “secret bar” in their basement. I’ve had enough of men with ulte
Scarlett“Okay, you have to tell me more about Wolfridge. I thought I was pretty well travelled, but I’ve never heard of it,” Erik says.Now that my brain is working a bit more reliably, I offer him a place name he’ll recognize. “It’s near Wanoon,” I tell him as we navigate a quieter stretch of street, the earlier bustle fading behind us. “But much smaller. Barely a village. This is my first time in Raventon.”Erik whistles low. “That’s a hell of a change. How’re you liking it so far?”I glance up at the buildings crowding the skyline. “It’s loud. And kind of discombobulating. But I think I like it….” I’m not quite convinced yet that the good outweighs the bad, but it has potential.He chuckles softly. “That’s fair. It can be a lot. If you ever want a tour guide, I’ll be happy to show you around.”I glance over at him, smiling a little. “You moonlight as one?”“Only for special cases,” he says with a wink. “You can find me at the shop most days.”The shop. This seems like the perfect
(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
Scarlett“Okay, you have to tell me more about Wolfridge. I thought I was pretty well travelled, but I’ve never heard of it,” Erik says.Now that my brain is working a bit more reliably, I offer him a place name he’ll recognize. “It’s near Wanoon,” I tell him as we navigate a quieter stretch of street, the earlier bustle fading behind us. “But much smaller. Barely a village. This is my first time in Raventon.”Erik whistles low. “That’s a hell of a change. How’re you liking it so far?”I glance up at the buildings crowding the skyline. “It’s loud. And kind of discombobulating. But I think I like it….” I’m not quite convinced yet that the good outweighs the bad, but it has potential.He chuckles softly. “That’s fair. It can be a lot. If you ever want a tour guide, I’ll be happy to show you around.”I glance over at him, smiling a little. “You moonlight as one?”“Only for special cases,” he says with a wink. “You can find me at the shop most days.”The shop. This seems like the perfect
ScarlettI stop walking when the buildings continue to be unfamiliar. For a second, I just stand there, in the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by the clatter of footsteps and the hum of Raventon life.The map Ash gave me is still folded in my back pocket, but when I pull it out and study it again, none of the street names around me match. There’s no “Silvertail Books” or “Ollie’s Curry House” on this hand-drawn paper, only smudged arrows and cocky annotations like “Best bakery. Tell Rita Ash sent you. She’ll give you extra cinnamon rolls.”None of that helps me now.I spin slowly in place, hoping something, anything, will look familiar, but it doesn’t.I take a deep breath. Don’t panic. This is fine. You’re fine. Just lost in a city full of strangers. It’s not even a big deal.I square my shoulders and turn around, prepared to backtrack and maybe find someone who looks like they won’t try to sell me drugs or show me a “secret bar” in their basement. I’ve had enough of men with ulte
ScarlettRaventon is louder than I expected.I stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, blinking as the chaos presses in on all sides. Cars honk, music blares from open doors, voices rise and fall in a constant, unrelenting buzz.My head spins from the non-stop onslaught of stimuli. I pull Ash’s hand-drawn map from my bag and squint at it, trying to orient myself. He wasn’t kidding when he said this part of town was always busy.The map is good, extremely detailed with landmarks carefully noted, but none of that changes the fact that I feel like a hay bale dropped in the middle of a tornado.A woman passing by catches my confused look and smiles. “You lost, sweetheart?”“Kind of,” I admit. “I’m looking for Calder Street?” She gestures behind me. “Take the next right and go straight for two blocks. You’ll see it.”“Thank you!” I tuck the map away and head off in the direction she pointed. I only make it another block before I stop again, turning in a slow circle. None of the signs m
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