MariannaThe front gates of the palace are heavily guarded every second of the day. I clutch my purse to my side, dressed in tan slacks and a cream colored sweater–less casual than normal–in hopes that I’ll get in without a huge fuss. I double checked to make sure all of my IDs are in my wallet, and as I remove my sunglasses and peer at the security gate, I still feel an overwhelming sense of dread. It was easy enough to get into the castle for the ball because a driver was sent to fetch me. I didn’t have to come through the front gate that night. Now?I inhale, holding my breath as I walk toward the warriors stationed outside the massive, towering wall of alabaster stone, but they don’t even look in my direction. Not until I make a move for the foreboding, metal gate that prevents anyone from seeing what I know is an ethereal garden and the steps leading up to the palance. The security post is the size of a small house, and while the guards on either side of the gate turn to me, g
BlakeI walk out of my haze of powers onto a level, gravel road lined by farmland. Streaks of deep navy and fading violet paint the sky as stars twinkle into view, a masterpiece I’d stop to inspect if I didn’t have somewhere to be. Along either side of the valley, houses built along the mountainside shine like their starry counterparts, and a few farmhouses are spread out, but the animals in the barns and sheds are silent, sleeping. Silverhide is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. It’s quiet here. Calm and restful, even during the rush of spring planting and the fall harvest. Ryan turned this valley into a utopia, and his pack is happy, healthy, and prosperous, but they still live as simply as possible. I get it. Sometimes I long for a life like that–something normal. Something still and calm. Quiet. Always quiet.A soft spring breeze carries the scent of snow still lingering on the mountaintops as I walk toward the center of the village where the farmhouses bleed into
BlakeSkye has said four words to me over the course of the afternoon. It’s not weird, I suppose. She doesn’t know me. She’s only seven, too, and doesn’t yet understand that we’re the same, and our view of the world is strikingly different compared to the people we love. Leona didn’t give me a choice about staying for lunch, which Marianna and I didn’t have the stomach to touch as it stands. She’s currently in the house with Leona, doing what, I don’t know, but I’m sitting on the grass with my seven-year-old daughter who doesn’t know anything about our connection, and maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t really think she’d care, to be honest. What she cares about is rocks. She hands me another rock which I dutifully split into pieces with the hammer resting against my thigh. She hums her disappointment when there’s not an agate inside, which is what she’s looking for, I think. The pile of rock discard is growing to the point it’ll wreck a lawnmower, but I don’t know how to tell her w
BlakeThe Night BeforeSoren pours another glass of punch, bracing one hand on the table as the ladle scrapes the bottom of the bowl. “Shit, it’s almost gone,” he murmurs, his words slurred. “It’s fuckin’ good, though.”I squint past my blurred vision and spot Marianna in the small crowd as she moves in what I think is my direction, but there’s three of her. Someone trips behind her, and Patton, who was just standing at my side, takes off in a rush to rescue Jane, who’s now on the floor, tangled in her dress. I’m not sure where the night went. One moment I was watching Marianna mingle with Maeve. Then, they disappeared, and reappeared, and the punch was served. Music growled from speakers that sent smooth vibrations across the ballroom as conversations ran wild, and then… everything started to blur. I think I danced at one point, which is incredibly unlike me. I think I might have actually danced with Marianna. Everything got incredibly hazy after that first glass of punch.“Where’
MariannaI scrub my swollen, aching eyes with a groan as Mom clatters loudly in the kitchen a few feet away. It’s barely 9:00 in the morning, but Leona Abbot has never slept in a day in her life and isn’t going to start just because I’m nursing a hangover. I don’t even remember getting home last night. I don’t really remember… anything.“Tell me again, from the beginning,” she says in what sounds like a near shout based on the way her voice ricochets through my throbbing brain.“There’s not much else to say.” I groan, but the sharp smell of freshly brewed coffee yanks me back to my senses, and I open my eyes to Skye hovering in front of me, extending my favorite mug. “Thanks, baby.”“Skye, tell your mother to give me some details about her big night out with the QUEEN!” I groan again, but Skye giggles and rocks on her heels, highly entertained by my predicament and her grammys insistence to prolong my suffering. “I made sure the queen didn’t leak through her expensive gown, and in
MariannaI rise as Queen Maeve comes into view, holding the hand of the striking young man I’d noticed in the ballroom. It was hard not to notice him, honestly, with his multi-colored eyes and casual disposition, and it strikes me quite suddenly that this is her mate, the man the news can’t stop talking about. Fretting about, more like it. Blake rises, and I follow, my heart standing still as the Queen of Eastonia, dressed in a soft silver gown of lace that flows around her like water, turns the corner of the staircase and spots us with a start. Blake narrows his eyes at her. The queen looks surprised to see him and then tilts her head in my direction for a moment before her head whips back to Blake with an expression I can only describe as… smug. “Well, well, well,” she grins. “Sneaking away from the party, Blake?”“Speak for yourself,” Blake says without a hint of emotion, even though I sure he meant to tease. Queen Maeve turns to me as I step down from my perch, bow deeply, and