Sydney
Two days have passed. I’m not sure how. Every minute feels exactly like the last; achingly slow.
I’m doing what I do best–deflecting. Finding other things to do besides sit at Sarah’s bedside and move between begging her on my knees to wake up and being angry at her for putting us in this position.
The wound on her arm is horrendous. Wide, gnarled, and barely healing despite using my healing powers. Gabriel left his mark so deep, it took Cosette over three hours to cut it out.
But now, Sarah’s free of him. He will never touch her again. He will never even lay eyes on her, and I’ll see to that myself.
Right now, however, I’m sitting on the steps in the foyer with my head in my hands while Cosette paces back and forth, her short footsteps sending a clacking echo through the room.
I haven’t slept in three days, at least. Longer, I think. I’v
SarahAfter the BallAlpha Sydney of Shadowcrest pauses during the long trek down the stairs leading out of the temple of the Moon Goddess. He extends a hand to me, and I take it, finding his hands warm but slightly clammy.I meet his eyes. Goddess, he has radiant eyes. The kind of blue even the best artists can’t capture in a painting. Dark blue, like the deepest ocean, and so expressive I can see every thought behind them.He’s nervous. I am too, which is silly. We’ve been dancing for an hour, singing along to a lesser known local band we both love. He helped me finish the cocktail I didn’t end up liking, and somehow we ended up doing… this. Escaping the party together without telling a soul.He wanted to see my flowers, and I wanted to show him more than anything.This man is not only an Alpha but the heir to the throne of Alpha King.He’
SarahEverything hurts. My head feels like someone took a hammer to it.I open my eyes to slits and quickly close them again. Pain rushes through me in waves like it has its own tide, and my breath is driving the current.I know where I am. Sydney’s scent is everywhere.I tried to leave him. I really did try. I thought it was what I was supposed to do to protect him and our son, but the Goddess laughed in my face, didn’t She?I slowly turn my head to the only source of light I can find and carefully open my eyes again.Sydney’s sitting at a desk only a few feet away, his back to me. The soft click, click, click, of his keyboard fills my ears as his laptop screen comes into view.It’s a blueprint of some kind. An equation pops up on the screen that takes him a single second to figure out, and then the blueprint shifts, new numbers and letters appearing that make
SarahTime is an illusion. I’ve never slept so much in my entire life. My body feels weak and heavy as I linger on the edge of sleep, refusing to let myself succumb to the inky, black, depthless slumber I’ve been experiencing for days even though my body is begging for it. I know it’s the tea. It has to be. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to keep down since spiraling back to reality, and Cosette has a habit of hiding her nasty herbal concoctions behind copious amounts of honey and cream. A burst of pain launches me back into alertness. I sneeze loudly, ripping my eyes open to find myself face to face with Blake, who’s gripping my nose with an iron fist. He beams at me, his eyes going all squinty with delight. “Did you just stick your finger all the way up my nose?” I ask, arching my brow at him. He sucks in his breath and does his best impression of laughing, which comes out as a broken coo, then smacks me smartly on the cheek. I’m under the impression Cosette or Dalia drops
KennaI knew something was up with Sydney several months ago when he sat in my sitting room looking so stern and withdrawn after our battle with Gabriel.Now, I see why he was acting that way. Now, I finally understand.He’s standing next to Sarah’s bedside holding his son. I almost can’t believe it, but I always knew the Goddess was going to bless Sydney with all the riches he tried to avoid.A radiantly beautiful mate. A perfect, golden child. A boy. His heir. Healthy and strong.The image of them together as I walk into the room is flawless. But there’s a crack in the perfect picture. I can see it in Sarah’s violet eyes–such a strange color. I can see it written all over Sydney’s face as he places a protective hand on Sarah’s shoulders.They’re afraid of what comes next.Sasha. I remind myself her name is Sasha. This woman is Att
SarahI look at the women in the sitting room, wondering if I should pinch myself to make sure this is real, and I’m not cooking this vision up in my muddled brain.I have no idea where Cosette went, but Isla remains in her wingback chair, her legs crossed as she balances a steaming cup of coffee on her knee. Her head is slightly bowed as she speaks in low tones to Maddy, who is fluttering around a low lying coffee table, arranging cookies and pastries on a little tray.Two queens. A mother and daughter by love and marriage with a bond forged by hard times.My stomach does a little flip as I sink to the white carpeted floor with Blake babbling incoherently in my arms as he reaches for the hazel eyed baby sitting only a few feet away.“Careful, she’s crawling now,” Kenna says with some effort as she sinks to her knees, then stretches her legs out with her back resting against the couch. B
SydneyI stayed out all day. I didn’t come home until the sun faded and the sky turned an inky, endless black dotted with stars.Admittedly, I stayed at my office until nearly 10:00 PM just to piss Cosette off, thinking she’d be waiting by the door to cuff my ears even though she was the one who bullied me out of my own home this morning.Being alone, thrust into a somewhat normal routine again, felt right. It felt good. I feel somewhat like myself again after a day working and several hours spent shifting and running through the woods.But I also didn’t stop thinking about Sarah all day long. I replayed those memories she returned to me over and over again until the night we spent together after the ball was so clear I could taste the vanilla chapstick she was wearing and smell the floral perfume scenting her skin.Now I’m home, walking through the garage door, and the house is quiet and dark
SarahThis feels like the very first time. There’s nothing frantic about this. Each touch, every stroke of his fingers, is calculated and meticulous, honed to my pleasure.Sydney’s hands graze up my back as I continue to straddle him, my thighs locked against his hips. I grind against him, growing desperate with need.His fingertips drag down my spine in a touch that sends chills cascading over my body, like he’s hitting every nerve and setting them aflame.There’s nothing in my head. My mind is blissfully quiet as every ounce of my energy focuses on the way he’s touching me and how he tastes when I kiss him again and again.“Sarah.” He growls low in his throat when I bite down on his lip. I grind against his cock, nothing but my leggings and the towel he’s wearing around his waist to separate us.“Please,” I whimper. “Please, Sydney
Sarah“This is humiliating!” I whisper, trying to cover my naked body with my hands. The cold night air bites into my skin, numbing the pain of the fresh mark, yes, but stinging everywhere else. Sydney, in his wolf form several feet away, paces back across the patio and says into my mind, ‘If you shift, you’ll be warm.’He did this on purpose. He didn’t so much as offer me a robe, probably to enjoy the sight of me in just my skin, shivering and at his mercy.“I know,” I bite out, annoyed. “I don’t know how!”‘You’ll feel it. Just tell your body what you want it to do.’ He comes to a stop, and in a glimmer of movement and faint light, shifts back into his human form. “See?”I frown at him before squeezing my eyes shut. All right, body. Shift. Turn my hands into paws, or whatever. Nothing. I run my tongue over my canine teeth, testing. He’d noticed they’d sharpened after I marked him, but they feel normal to me. “Sydney, I can’t do it.”He shifts back into a wolf like it’s nothing f
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,
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 brings her knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss against them. They’re bathed in silver, the windows behind them dancing in starlight. It’s beautiful, really. It’s what I envisioned for her, one day, what I thought would be… years from now. I watch my sister–the person I love the most in all of the world–intertwine her soul with someone else, forcing myself to unravel the ribbons binding my heart to hers. She doesn’t belong to me anymore. Logan looks at her as they kneel before the priestess in her silver robes. They lean into each other like being inches away is too far apart. And the look on his face as he brushes his lips over her temple… he loves her. He’s devoted–body, and soul. My heart
Brie“Tonight?”“Yes, tonight.”“How?” I laugh, taking a step away from him. “We-we can’t.”“We can,” he says breathlessly, shaking his head. “The temple stays open all night. We’d just need to find a priestess.”“We’d need a witness,” I whisper as the cogs in my mind start turning. “I’d need a dress–”“I’d marry you like this,” he says, taking my hands. “But please, for the love of the Goddess, marry me before I go.”I blink up at Logan, my heart swelling and squeezing simultaneously. There’s still a whisper in my mind that warns me that he could change his mind, that he can’t really want me, but I… banish it, giving myself to him fully. “Are you sure?” I ask, scanning his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want you to be my wife, Brie.”“I’m already your mate.”“It’s not enough.” He brushes my hair out of my face and kisses me, but a rush of air alerts us to a visitor making their way up the stairs to the tower. I pull away as a soft knock sounds on the door. Neither
BrieLogan steps into my dad’s office. All eyes turn to him as he scans the men–Sydney, Grandpa Ryatt, my father, a few others that serve both my father and grandfather as generals, captains, and commanders. Logan’s eyes are like polished, imperfect emeralds as he eyes my grandpa wearily, like he’s not entirely sure he understands what Ryatt just said to everyone in the room. “Brie, you don’t need to be here for this,” Aviva whispers behind me, knitting her fingers in mine. But Logan growls, “She stays.”A silent, heavy, creeping hint of tension scatters around the room. The entire castle would explode if someone lit a match right now, I’m sure. My spine tingles as Logan turns to Ryatt and says, calmly despite the bite in his voice, “There’s nothing in Emberfyll.”“Quite the contrary,” my grandfather replies immediately, rounding my father’s desk, his shadow powers simmering and coiling around his fingers, “Debris has been washing up on the southern shore of Tarsian for decades now.
LoganBrie looks exhausted, but otherwise… happy, thank the Goddess, as she sits between her mother and Misty, listening to their conversation and picking at a sandwich. I lean my elbows on the table across the room where I’m sitting in silence, alone, still waiting for my mind to catch up with my body after Maeve jumped with us from the middle of the ocean to Veiled Valley. A shadow moves into view, crossing through the doorway before a shadow breaches the informal living area. Ryan looks around before turning the corner, beelining for me, waving away several rushed questions coming from the group of women on the couches nearby. He braces his hands on the table beside me, leaning down to whisper into my ear, “I need to speak to you in private before Ryatt returns. Can you come with me?”I glance at Brie, who’s watching us with her brows furrowed in worry. I suck my teeth before nodding, and Ryan moves back a step so I can stand. Brie and I have been using the mind-link as much as
BrieI pull the stool out from under my vanity, sinking down and facing Blake. I’m older than him by a few months. We’ve always been close, even when we were younger, and he tended to want to play rowdy boy games with Aris. He always sat quietly and played tea-party with me, though, without fail. He’s also the pariah of the family and knows it. His powers rival Ryatt’s, which is a terrifying thought. In fact, I often question who’s more powerful–him or Maeve? But that’s not a fair question at the moment, given that Maeve’s powers aren’t even fully developed yet. Blake, however… he exudes energy that makes my skin tingle as he sits in my desk chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “You found us, didn’t you?” He nods, a flash of guilt darkening his irises. “I admit I didn’t even look until Maeve cornered me. She felt you, she said. Sensed your arrival back in our waters.”I wonder how much Logan told the family. Probably everything, I’m sure. That man can talk, and I love that abou