*Maddy*I wake with a start to my bedroom door opening. After a week spent living in this castle full time, I’m still not used to the maids fluttering in and out and around the castle day in and day out. They move like ghosts most of the time, save for Hannah, who always stops to talk if she has a moment to spare. I roll over and find that the young maid who tends to my room in the early morning–stoking the fire and laying out fresh clothes or dropping off baskets of laundry–is not who's currently shutting the door snuggly behind them. I pull the sheets up to my chest as King Isaac walks into the center of the room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. A white shirt hugs his torso, showing off every broad muscle of his chest and shoulders. Ruffled from sleep, and looking slightly dazed as if he just woke up, he stares at me for a long time before he finally says something. “Good morning.”“G-good morning,” I stammer, sitting up a bit and letting the sheets fal
*Maddy*The kitchen is in a state of chaos. I sit in the middle of it, tucked on a barstool at the edge of the marble island in the room’s center. The air is a mix of sugary and savory while the chef and their crew hurry to put together a meal fit for the king… and his parents, who just showed up. Isaac hadn’t even introduced me formally to his mother. Ella had come running down the hallway looking frantic, followed by King Maddox. In a flash of blonde curls, Hannah had practically apparated beside me and swooped me away through a servants’ door just as the voices of the royal family started to rise. Now, I sit in the kitchen where cooking sounds–the banging of pots and pans, the hissing of boiling water–overwhelm any fights taking place in the castle proper. The chef places another plate in front of me, removing the old one. I give her a quick smile that doesn’t reach my eyes as I start picking at chicken salad and crackers. Who am I kidding right now? One look at Isla, once the
*Maddy*Once a Luna, always a Luna, at least that’s how I perceive the woman sitting across from me in a high back armchair. Soft afternoon sunlight makes her glow a pale gold, an aura nearly the same color as her long, silken blonde hair. Her eyes are exactly like Isaac’s, and it gives me a start to look directly into them. I’m sitting before a goddess–kind and warm–and I am no one, yet I’m taking her place. “Isaac says your parents are no longer alive, but you have a stepmother and stepsister. Will you be inviting them to the wedding, now that we’ve… been given more time?” She blushes a bit, which surprises me. I don’t know what was said before I came into the room, but it’s almost as if she feels guilty for throwing off the rushed order of things. “Oh, them,” I sigh, unable to stop myself. I meet her eyes, blue gems behind gold dusted lashes. “We’re not close.”“How come?”I grit my teeth in an effort to stop myself from speaking before thinking. While my fluency in their languag
*Maddy*I follow Isaac through the castle. It’s busier than usual–maids fluttering about and weaving in and out of random doors–but Isaac is hyper-focused on something, and I have to refrain from pulling him to a stop to ask where exactly he’s taking me. When he pulls me into his bedroom, I freeze, my heart coming to an abrupt stop. “Why are we–”“Here,” he says with a boyish gleam in his eyes, tossing me a sweater to wear over my sleeveless dress. “I would have taken you to your own room to change, but I didn’t want to get interrupted by Hannah or anyone else.”I gingerly pull my arms through the soft, baby blue material. It’s cashmere, I can tell. My father used to have a sweater just like this one and wore it when the weather had even the slightest hint of a bite in the air. The sweater hangs nearly to my sides but the warmth penetrates my skin within seconds. And seconds is all I have because Isaac clasps his hand around mine and yanks me toward the door, and we’re off at the sp
*Maddy*I had enough time to go back to my room to change, but once I got there, I was a little lost. Standing in front of the closet looking into the darkened depths which Hannah had filled with clothing in exactly my size, ranging from soft linen and silk lounge wear to the most incredible gowns and dresses I’ve ever seen in my life, I take several minutes to contemplate, wondering what to wear to a family dinner with the royal family. For whatever reason, wearing a gown tonight feels too formal. Much, much too formal. With a sigh, I settle for tailored black slacks and a dark blue cashmere sweater. I pull my hair back into a long ponytail, pinning it away from my face. A smidge of makeup completes the look. I don’t have jewelry. I haven’t ever really worn it. This will have to do.I give myself one last look in the mirror over my vanity and see, for the first time, myself. Not a lowly slave. Not a maid. Not a severely underfed and overworked orphan resigned to a life of lonelines
*Maddy*I’m not sure what else there is to say between us right now. Everything seems to have been set into motion already–our marriage, his departure to war, the fact I’m being left here to act like a Luna when only weeks ago I was scrubbing floors. Any residual feelings from our intimate moment in the astronomy tower had vanished during the tense family meeting in the sitting room after dinner. The tension in the family is thick, and I feel like I’m in the middle of it. I follow Isaac to his office through the surprisingly quiet house. There are so many people here tucked in the bedrooms and suites, but it feels like we're totally and utterly alone. As he closes his office door behind me, and motions for me to sit on the red leather sofa in front of his desk, I fight the urge to immediately ask the questions burning little holes in my mind. He leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest, looking withdrawn and exhausted. “I’m sorry to have dragged you into all of t
*Isaac*I pick her up in one swift motion, clutching her body to my chest. I’m not doing this on the couch in my office like she’s someone I brought home after a rowdy night at one of the bars downtown, no. This woman is going to be my wife in a few days. She’s different. She means much more to me that I’m even willing to admit. Unlooking the office door, I quickly move through the second floor of the house. “Isaac,” she pants, gripping my shoulders. “I can walk–”I turn a shadowed corner and walk down the hallway that leads to my room–soon to be our chambers. The full bedroom suit and adjoining sitting room. I do my best not to kick down the door in my haste to get inside, driven mad by the feel of her in my arms. Her scent is everything I love and everything I find hard to explain. Like a fresh, clean spring day mingled with a warmth that reminds me of sitting by a fire with a drink in hand after being outside in the cold for hours. Her touch sends ripples of heat through me tha
*Maddy*I might be dreaming. The distant echoes of a scream flicker through the room. I look down at the moonlight dusted arm of Isaac, who is still holding me against his chest as he sleeps. He doesn’t wake to the sound, and it’s gone in an instant, replaced by total silence. But every fine hair on my body is standing on end. Something isn’t right. I feel it deep in my bones but second guess myself. Isaac would have woken up if the scream had been real, right? I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Our scents mingle. The bed smells like us, together. Everything is right in the world right now. Nothing but this moment matters. At least, I tell myself that, because internally I’m on the verge of losing my Goddess damned mind at the idea that there’s a ghost walking the walls and screaming at the top of his or her lungs. When another ear piercing howl sends a tremor through the castle, I’m up out of bed, sprinting toward the door, naked as the day I was born. I look back at the bed. Is
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,
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