MasukSarah
Blake lifts his head from the carpet in the sitting room off the foyer, his chubby fingers gripping the carpet fibers as he whines, his mouth pulled in a frown.
“This is supposed to be good for you, honey,” I urge when he starts to fuss. Dalia, on her knees beside me, nods in silent agreement. “See? You’re learning how to push up with your arms. Soon you’ll be rolling over onto your back if you want it bad enough.”
FallonLuna. I shake my head at my reflection in the stainless steel-framed mirror in my stateroom aboard The Alyssa, which is, in fact, an impressive cargo ship with several floors dedicated to guests. It’s nothing like the yachts in my family’s arsenal, but it’s comfortable, nonetheless, if not a little stale and gray. We’ve been bobbing off the coast of Toppifaire for the past three hours, and I’m getting bored. I tuck my hair behind my ears, considering going to figure out what’s going on, when a horn blasts somewhere high above me, sending a rattle through the ship from top to bottom. I jolt, accidentally scratching my cheek with my nail, and murmur a rather colorful curse while blotting the bloody mark with a handful of tissue. This is not what I signed up for when KiloKilo first sent the inquiry about a marriage between me and the man they referred to as “one of their princes.” Oh, if I could go back and look myself in the eyes–maybe shake myself back to rationality–I would.
FallonThere’s little to report about my wedding night. I didn’t dance until the wee hours of the morning. I didn’t arrive at a romantically decorated room where a bottle of sparkling wine and chocolate-covered strawberries were waiting for me and my dear, sweet husband. I didn’t fall into silk sheets with the love of my life. In fact, the man in question simply shoved me into a room at an inn after a two-hour long car ride–color me shocked that there are cars in KiloKilo. I’ve always considered this place to be rudimentary, but alas, I am again proved wrong–and then he left. Where is Zayn, one might ask? Hell if I know! It’s now 6:00 in the morning, and I haven’t seen him since last night, when he left me here in a room. At least it’s leagues better than the stuffy, poorly tended manor in Meccana… or whatever the hell that terrible city is called. This room is warm and inviting with striped yellow wallpaper and freshly waxed floorboards. The inn has a full kitchen, too. I know beca
ZaynI have very few memories in this palace. Father only ever brought me here if it was totally necessary, with a summons from the Grand Wizard, but even then, those instances were few and far between. Invitations to ascension ceremonies of higher ranking family members often went unanswered. I attended maybe one wedding. Births were never celebrated. This palace was simply a massive gravestone in my memory–a reminder of stone walls where men walked in and never walked out. Now, I’m watching my wife nod her head and fix her face into something dutiful and amenable while distant female cousins and the wives of cousins I don’t know approach to congratulate her on our nuptials. At least people bow in her presence and keep their eyes on their toes, as they should in the presence of a royal. Soft, stilted music plays over the hushed, nervous murmurs of the crowd. A banquet spread fills up nearly the length of the ballroom, where towers of food go untouched. Only the ballsiest men fill
Fallon“Who are you to Zayn?” I ask. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and I suppose it’s a good place to start. “I’m his cousin. Our mothers are sisters. Alyssa is my aunt–or was. Zayn mentioned she hasn’t been herself for years.” She weaves her fingers together on her lap and tilts her chin, dark gray eyes holding mine. “I’m older than him by a few years. We were both raised in Meridem.”“Where is Meridem? What is it? I’ve heard it mentioned several times.”“It’s an island a few hours south of here, and it’s considered the only place where shifters and witches can live freely. It’s a sacred place, at least to me.” She huffs a breath and rises, pacing to the far side of the room and back. “I assume you met Magnus?”“I saw him.”“And you know, or at least assumed, who he is to your betrothed?"I knot my hands into fists behind my back. “Magnus is Zayn’s father.”“You are correct. He’s also the youngest son of the Grand Wizard. The youngest of maybe… forty sons over the course
FallonZayn is still lying prone on the floor when three shadows drift over the dust-eaten, weathered floorboards. A very tall, curvaceous woman with the thickest, curliest black hair I’ve ever seen steps carefully into the room, her mane of glorious curls slipping over her shoulder while she peers skeptically down at Zayn. He narrows his eyes to slits, but not into a glare. I think–actually, I know–he’s absolutely shitfaced right now. To be completely, totally, horrifically honest… I am jealous he’s currently floating on another plane of existence. It must be nice.“Cousin,” the woman says tightly, glancing at me before crouching and poking him in the cheek. “What have you done to yourself this time?”“He’s drunk,” I croak and then clear my throat. The woman purses her lips and inspects us both with marked curiosity. “I’ll be damned. I didn’t think anyone could outdrink Zayn, but look at this. He outdrank himself. It’s a miracle, and just in time, because I have to take your blush
Zayn The air is stale and silent in the rustic stone manor attached to the far side of the Mecca, the grand fortress that governs all of KiloKilo and marks its capital. Even in the violet glow of the earliest hours of the morning, the palace casts its shadow through every window in the manor, turning its already dark and sparsely decorated interior an inky kind of black. No one lives here. No one has for years. Cobwebs still hang from the highest rafters of the room where Fallon is curled in the fetal position on a bed with fresh sheets, at least, her small body swallowed by the darkness all around her. I leave the door open even though I’ve already dropped powerful wards around the manor and its slice of a front garden. No one can enter or exit without me knowing. No one can so much as open a door without alarm bells ringing through my skull loud enough to wake me from the deepest sleep, which I doubt I’ll have for days to come. Which is how I know my cousin Jason didn’t do what
MaeveBrie is… radiant. She glows in her simple white dress of lace and satin, her hair falling loose over her back and shoulders as Logan slowly, tenderly, lowers the hood of her dark blue cloak. The temple is quiet and dim, moonlight flooding the altar. Logan knits his fingers in Brie’s and bring
MaeveMom stands with her arms crossed on the balcony overlooking the ballroom in our castle. In the city below, the once beautiful, tropical landscape is cast in shadow. The crystal bridges lined with greenery are now painted in banners of black. A field of flowers stretches beyond the gates of th
Brie“What about us?” My voice hangs in the air between us. The room goes so quiet and still I can feel the Asteria gliding back into open water, the rocky, uneven bounce of sailing through the shallows finally settling. I wait for him to tell me to come with him. I wait, and wait, my heart squeez
MaeveI’m vibrating. I’m lying on my back, but I’m moving… which is strange. I open my eyes to darkness and an unfamiliar room with gray plastic paneling and… handles fixed to the low ceiling. An incessant rattle makes my ears ring. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, expecting to be back i







