ColeMisty shivers in my arms as I stare at Lavender. “What did you just say?”“The Umbra Mortis just arrived,” she says slowly, her eyes wide with panic. “He’s coming here–to the castle. Any minute now.”My life flashes before my eyes. He can’t see Misty like this. He can’t find out Misty just broke the curse in Lacey, either. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck–” It takes all of my strength to lay Misty in the bed gently instead of tossing her like a rag doll. Lavender quickly takes over redressing her in a nightgown while I run around the room, opening closets and pulling drawers from the dresser, searching for anything to throw over her nearly frozen body. I rush into the bathroom and swiftly change into dry clothes.“What happened?” Lavender hisses as we hurriedly tuck several blankets around Misty. Misty shivers uncontrollably, her teeth chattering so loud I’m worried they’ll break. I fish in the blankets for her arm and take a deep breath before going completely still, my fingers locked on her
MistyI’m dreaming. I know this is a vision–a glimpse into life happening far, far away. I think I love this power the most. I think I’m somewhere on the far northern coast of Crescent Falls, near the border with Celestoria. It’s definitely one of the fog-soaked islands–an obscure, rural pack territory. I stand on a hill overlooking a cottage. Yellow, winter grass hugs the little house, smoke rising from its chimney. A young woman with mousy-brown hair steps outside, bundled in a coat, hiking a messenger bag over her shoulder as she turns back to the door and smiles, saying something to the woman standing just out of view within. Then, I’m following the young woman as she walks toward the village. She smiles at a few people and wolves she passes. Her eyes are a soft gray–Cole’s eyes. This is his sister, Annabel. This is where she lives now. I watch as she steps into the yard of a single story stone building. Children dart in the brisk, cool winter air, chasing a ball around. Othe
ColeMisty slides out of bed, uneasy on her feet. She paces a few steps, stretching her arms over her head with a sigh.I watch, and wait, for her answer. I’m not totally sure why I asked if she wanted to try to shift. Maybe it’s because I’m actively plotting a way to get her out, and if my plan fails, she’s going to need to run.“I’m not ready,” she says, matter-of-factly.“That’s fine.”She looks down at her hands. “I don’t feel any changes yet. Nothing. Is that normal?”I sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, that’s perfectly normal. Most wolves don’t come into their shifter powers until the day of their twenty-first birthday, sometimes a few days before, or a few days after,” I remind her.She sighs, picking at the fabric of her pale cream nightgown. It hugs her body in a way that has my mouth going dr
MistyI fell asleep curled around Cole in the late hours of the night. He’d laid me in bed, and I’d immediately pulled him back to me, not ready to give him up just yet.I can’t tell myself this doesn’t mean anything anymore. This feeling–this overwhelming ache–isn’t growing weaker, and I’m desperate for a way to keep him.I drew lines over his chest and stomach as we fell asleep in each other’s arms, the sheets tangled and pushed to the edge of the bed, listening to the rain pour over Oasia.But I wake up to Cole sitting straight up in bed.I rub my eyes, blinking into the darkness. “What’s wrong?”He shushes me, his body rigid as he scans the room.Fear creeps through my body. My heart skips a beat as he slowly, silently, slides out of bed and pulls on his discarded pants, fastening his belt. Still, he looks around, his eyes
RyanThere’s a river that runs through the Deadlands. The same river that splits Eastonia in two. On the other side, mountains hug the horizon, blurring the view of Tarsian beyond. In the Deadlands, the river is… wide, but still. A large, lumbering stretch of clear water that weaves through the plains. Here, in the Roguelands, in what used to be a city called Twin Rivers, now nothing but a husk of what it was twenty or so years ago when Ryatt and Ella were young, that same river is angry and narrow, full of rapids and rock. Sydney stands beside me as I watch the water–the shattered ruins of bridges running across it at several points. And the rowboat fighting the rapids. Sydney straightens, narrowing his eyes at the group of warriors shouting at the few men inside the boat who are shouting back for help as the rapids send the boat lurching in a circle. The women on board scream–shrill and terrified. “There’s a child on that boat,” Sydney growls under his breath, gripping my arm fo
MistyLavender fans out the skirt of an impossibly pink gown. I stare at my reflection in the mirror as she kneels, adjusting the hem. I’m swimming in a sea of bubble gum. It’s not even my best color. It does nothing for my skintone, or my hair, or my eyes. But this color has always been mine. And somehow, Cole knew. I smooth my hands over the tight waist, the boning, the satin fabric that flares out at my hips. It’s a real ball gown–fluffy and extravagant. I’m already a princess, but right now, I actually feel like one. “My mom would flip if she saw me in this,” I say with a huff, my throat closing around the words. How many times have I promised myself I’d stop crying? A hundred? A thousand?“In a good way, or a bad way?” Lavender asks, rising to adjust the poofy sleeves that taper at my wrists. “A good way.” I blink back tears. “She’s going to hate that she’s missing my birthday. Probably more than she hates the idea of our family being at war over Solstice. It’s her favorite h
Misty“Do not speak to anyone,” Orion says as we walk through empty, entirely too quiet halls. “Do not look any of them in the eyes, and do not, under any circumstances, use your powers. Any of them.”My grip on the crook of his arm tightens as soft, slightly off-key music starts to sound through the hall, mingling with our footsteps. “Them, as in, Richard and the order?”“No,” he replies, his voice like gravel. We turn a sharp corner, and the grand foyer erupts into view–undecorated and cold… and full of green eyed members of this court, this castle. Maids and servants. Alphas, and their Lunas. High ranking warriors and commanders. They funnel into the ballroom as if in a trance, their eyes glowing green and bodies covered in open, bleeding symbols. My stomach pitches and turns. My dress feels too tight. I can barely breathe. One man stops walking. He slowly turns his head, that green light flickering several times–like he’s fighting for control–before the single sliver of self
AvivaA shift in the air wakes me up with a start. I sit up, reaching to peek through the blinds. Snow falls in lazy spirals, blurring the tents rising in the pastures just outside the Silverhide village in the Deadlands. Nothing seems amiss, but…Ryan lifts his head from his pillow, blinking into the darkness. “Did you feel that, too?” I whisper. He groans with the effort of leaving our warm bed, stumbling in the darkness as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. “Stay here, okay? I’m gonna check it out.”We’ve grown used to the noise of having several hundred warriors sharing our space–our village–but this wasn’t a sound. It was a feeling that’s still lodged in my chest as I ignore Ryan’s command to stay in bed and follow him through the quiet house. This feels like deja vu. Weeks ago, when Misty had been taken, this exact same thing happened. We felt a shift–like the air in the village parted–and then received earth-shattering news. Ryan’s thinking the same thing I am. It’s been a
LoganSeveral Months LaterMoonrise is washed in rain as I pace the upper hallways of the grand palace. My muscles are impossibly tight as moans echo toward me and away again. I pace in the opposite direction of the cries of agony that cut me to the core. It’s been like this for hours now. We’d arrived in Moonrise last night with plans to visit for a few days before leaving for Veiled Valley for the next month or so, returning to Emberfyll in time for the birth of our child with time to spare, but things went awry. A nurse–a witch–rushes in my direction, her face pale and washed in concern. “Alpha King Logan? It’s time.”“Is she all right?”“She’s okay,” she lies, her eyes giving away her worry. I brush past her, the hallway blurring as my vision hones in on the door behind which my mate is writhing, begging for relief, but also more time. Our son is months early. Eight weeks early, to be exact. The witches have been trying to stop the labor for hours, but Brie’s in so much pain,
BrieI wake up the next morning curled in Logan’s arms. I doubt we got more than a few hours of sleep, but my mind won’t shut off, and I doubt his has either. We lay there in silence for several minutes. Logan draws lazy circles on my arm while staring up at the ceiling. I want to ask him what he’s feeling right now. I’ve never seen him this quiet, this at a loss for words. So, I’m the one who talks instead. “Do you remember me as a kid?” I ask, and he nods, then shrugs one shoulder. “I suppose. You’re seven years younger than me, though. You would have been playing with dolls while I was out hunting or training to be a warrior.”“Maeve mentioned last night, when I told her I could speak your language, that I spent a summer in Silverhide while Aviva was teaching you how to read and write. Apparently, I picked up your language back then, and just… forgot about it.”His fingers stop moving for a moment, but then he chuckles low in his throat, rolling over to face me. “I actually rem
BrieThe castle glows like liquid gold from the light of what must be hundreds of tallow candles. The gathered crowd shuffles to find a spot to sit or stand in the wide, toppled ballroom of sorts. I’m not sure what it used to be, but only so many rooms are still fully enclosed. The weather in Emberfyll is mild. I imagine when the forest grows back, it’ll be borderline tropical. A feast of fish is laid out on makeshift tables or on long strips of fabric where people are seated on the floor, passing pewter plates down the line into hungry hands. Others break bread or pour tea and mead into mugs. I watch from the front of the room where I’m seated against a backdrop of the ocean and the clear, star filled sky. Maeve’s still asleep. She’s been sleeping all day, since the moment she arrived, but I imagine that won’t change for a while. I’m worried about her–have been checking on her all day while also juggling creating a plan of action with Logan and Seamus for when my father’s warriors
BrieI wake in the early hours of the morning to soft sunlight brushing over my cheeks. I’m sure I cried myself to sleep last night. I forgot where I was, but only briefly, reality rushing in, reminding me that I made it to Emberfyll alone. I roll in the furs, letting the warm, morning sunlight play over my face, but then I hear a commotion coming from outside. Yips and barks dance through the air. I rise, clutching the windowsill for support as I squint into the sun and see a dozen wolves racing through the flattened, charred space that used to be the front garden. Smoke rises in the forest from chimneys, the villagers waking for the day, but I can’t see past the trees and their thick summer canopies. The wolves are racing into the forest. I whirl to heavy footsteps running into the room I was given to use as my own last night. Seamus braces himself in the doorway, panting like he ran all the way here from the depths of the castle. I wait for him to tell me we’re under attack, or
Logan“BRIE!” I shout toward the trees. My voice carries through the night but doesn’t bounce back to me. It just keeps going, and going, and I’m at a complete loss as to where we are or where my mate could be. Maeve murmurs at my feet where she’s lying flat on her back. I woke up five, maybe ten minutes ago in so much pain I could barely breathe, let alone stand. Now, I’m stumbling from spindly tree to spindly tree, using them to steady myself as I scream my mate’s name into the night, but she doesn’t answer. Through the trees, I can just see the ocean, the storm raging in the distance. Lightning in shades of crimson and deep violet split the clouds as wind rushes toward the mainland. I can feel the electricity in the air, even from miles away. I can taste the thick, metallic stain of magic on my tongue. That storm… Maeve created it. It’s her powers drifting away from us, stirring up the sea. But Maeve is currently unable to even speak as it stands, and she’s cold to the touch whe
BrieI open my eyes as I’m falling through thin air. I don’t even have time to scream before my body drops into water. Deep, rough water that drags me under the second I suck in a salty breath. I flail against the waves, trying to find the surface, but the undercurrent drags me down again, pulling me by my dress and tossing me upside down. My head hits something hard, and I screech, but the sound is empty. I suck in water, choking, and realize quite suddenly that I’m drowning. I go as still as possible, using the last of my energy to start moving with the current instead of against it, which turns out to be the best idea I’ve ever had, especially under duress. I open my eyes underwater, staring down at the shallows. It’s sunny. Daytime. And below, seaweed waves between large, gray rocks. Pockets of sunshine dance through the water, illuminating seashells in shades I’ve never seen before. Another wave crashes over the top of me, sending me rolling into even shallower water, and fina
MaeveCole and Misty have a beautiful suburban home in Shadowcrest. It’s always the same–always smells like freshly baked cookies and the flowers she keeps in vases all over the house. Tonight, as my toes brush the ground, and my powers funnel back into my body, it smells like… popcorn. “You pig! You’re not going to eat all of that.” Josie’s voice, so similar to her mother’s, drifts down the hallway. I landed in the foyer, which is dark, soft moonlight drifting in through the windows and casting the stairs and framed photos of the family in silver shadows. “If you wanted more, you should have added it to the order,” Adrian argues then yelps after a smacking sound reverberates toward me in the gloom. “Give me one of your tacos–”“Or what?”“I’ll tell Mom.”“She’s in Eastonia, dumbass. Hey!” A scuffle ensures. I have two seconds to jump into the shadow of Misty’s study just off the foyer when Cole walks down the stairs, still wearing his hospital scrubs. The sound of a shower running
LoganRyatt and Evander walk out of sight across the bridge connecting the barracks to the main streets of the city. I look out of my old bedroom window at the sunny glare casting shadows over the valley. The shadows move as the clouds dart across the sky toward the castle, toward my wife, who I’d much rather be with right now than here. I… I don’t have anything to pack. Anything that meant anything to me–my laptop, my fucking glasses–were lost in the shipwreck. I have the clothes on my back, and even those were borrowed from who-knows-where, left on the dresser in Brie’s bedroom by the ghost that haunts her house. She’s all I have, and it’s not like I can pack her in my duffle bag and take her with me. I crank open the window to let in some fresh air to cut through the overwhelmingly male smell of the barracks. I turn to my empty duffle bag with a sigh, bracing my hands on either side of it on the bed, and hang my head, but a whoosh of air rushes out behind me, and I turn in time
BrieThe moment my bedroom door closes behind us, Logan’s mouth is on mine. The lock slides into place with a soft click, and an even softer groan leaves his mouth when I reach up to run my fingers through his damp curls. He smells like rain and leather. Like the promise of warmth and comfort through another stormy night. And now this man–this loud, obnoxious, opinionated man… he’s mine. He presses a kiss to the ring he bought today on a whim. It’s a simple band of gold–that’s it. “I'll give you a better one when I return,” he promises, kissing the palm of my hand before his lips find mine again. “A ring with a diamond the old gods can see from the heavens.”“I don’t care about that.” I giggle as his hands glide down my sides, pulling me close. Outside, thunder booms, the room lighting in ribbons of blue as lightning splits the clouds, but in here, it’s warm. It’s private. It’s just us. He removes my cloak. It falls to the ground in a heap at my feet. He’s careful with the dress,