*Isaac*Whatever dreamlike state I’ve been suspended in lifts, replaced by soft, golden light. I open sore eyes and blink away the blurriness, that dreamscape replaced by the rippling, swirling mural of florals painted on the ceiling in my bedroom. My bedroom back home at the castle. I don’t move. I’m not sure if I’m actually here, or if this is another trick of my mind. The last several weeks don’t seem real at all. Not the war, not the battles, not the unrelenting darkness that swallowed my lands whole. But there is sunlight here. It warms the sheets around me and my skin. My chest is bare, and I glance down and see a ray of golden light full of dust that shimmers like silver stars. I raise a hand and turn it back and forth in the light, watching the dust swirl around my fingers in a dizzying dance. She turns in her chair by the window, her wine-red hair cascading loose down her back. She stands, those stormy, dark blue eyes wide. Her cream-colored silk robe catches the light, i
*Maddy*Several days have passed since Isaac woke up. I’m still processing it—him coming back from a coma, and the aftermath of the war. Everything seems too peaceful. The sudden shift from pre-war times when there was nothing but tension in the air to now feels too abrupt. The war ended before it began, really. A few weeks seems like nothing in the grand scheme of things. The past three months have been the hardest part about it. I basically just floated around the castle like a ghost, a shell of myself, praying to the Goddess every second I could spare to bring him back to me–to us. I rest my hands on my belly as I walk barefoot through the castle. It’s quiet here today. Ben and Emery went back to the Obsidian Temple territory several weeks ago to rebuild. Trinity and Rosie are back in Moorn with Elijah. Cassian practices daily at the training grounds on the far side of the village to learn to better move his wolf with only three legs, and Isla and Maddox tend to keep to themselv
*Maddy* I watch as Ella walks up the stairs to her studio. She stands at the door for a moment, a door that’s been locked and charmed so that anyone who touches it gets zapped by a painful, bone crushing magic. We all learned our lesson the hard way with that one and spent a good deal of time having Isla tend our wounds. I should turn away and leave her alone, but curiosity gets the best of me as I watch her close her eyes, her mouth moving but totally silent. Soft red light ripples through the woodgrain of the door before fading completely. She turns the knob and slips inside, the door closing and locking behind her. I sigh with relief. Something about knowing Ella is tucked away in her studio with her paints, brushes, and canvases sets my heart at ease. Like everything is suddenly right in the world, and I can breathe again. Even though I know that’s not the case. Not at all. I linger at the bottom of the stairs to the tower that houses her studio for a moment, though, the su
*Maddy* The ballroom is totally transformed from floor to ceiling. The finest flowers in the kingdom stand in large, marble vases resting on tables covered in light blue tableclothes. Champagne flows, poured into crystal flutes, and graceful string music fills the air, rising above the chatter. I walk through the crowd, which parts to allow me to pass. I smile and bob my head at the people who bow and curtsey to me, their cheeks going pink as I meet their eyes. The fact that Isla and I were able to put this event together in a little under a week is a miracle in itself, and all over that surrounding villages and large cities beyond, similar celebrations are taking place to honor the dead and celebrate the victory of the war. Tonight’s celebration is specificaly for Isaac, my king, and my mate. My ivory gown of silk and satin trails behind me as I walk through the ballroom, stopping to chat with the Alphas and Lunas who’ve assembled. An overlay of silver stars flows from my ste
*Ella*“Do not let go of my hand,” he says. I allow myself to look at him for the first time, to really look into those slate gray eyes of his that I now recognize with startling clarity. Once, what feels like a lifetime ago, this man asked me to dance at Isaac’s twenty-first birthday ball. I’d declined, using his question as bait to ask him his last name, so that maybe, just maybe, I could have found him again. I hadn’t been of age then to feel what I now recognize as a mate pull as his fingers curl around mine, his grip tight and demanding. Do not let go. I called him here. I used the ball to honor the heroes of this war for my own selfish reasons. I couldn’t just slip away and let my family think I’d been taken. I needed to show them I left on my own accord, even if it meant showing every Alpha and Luna in their territory my powers, and Ryatt’s. Do not let go. Do not let go of my hand. His words flow through me as my power surges with his and creates something new, something d
*Ella*The walk through the forest is short, but the sun sets behind us, and the forest is cast in a deep violet glow. A chill settles in my bones. It’s autumn here, the same as in Crescent Falls. My bare feet are coated in dead leaves by the time we crest a hill and look down at a small village tucked in a cleared area in the forest, surrounded by old growth trees and situated in a circular fashion around a tall, square building made of stone. That must be the meeting house Amanda mentioned. Its thatch roof and stone walls look like something out of a fairy tale, and so do the small stone cottages we pass as we make our way into the village proper. People stop to stare at us, at me. Amanda, however, walks with her head held high, her chin lifted as she nods at the people we pass. I suddenly get the feeling Amanda isn’t just some simple woman wandering around in the woods alone. These people give her space and bow their heads slightly to her as she leads me to the meeting house. W
*Ella*The healer is a very old, gnarled woman. She reminds me of Mystica based on the pictures Mom has scattered in her home in Maatua. The woman’s hair is bright white and wispy, and her shoulders are permenantly slumped. She barely comes up to my breasts as she hovers around Hannah, who is lying on a cot in the center of a very warm room heated by an ancient wood stove in one corner. I have to duck to walk deeper into the tight room. Bundles of herbs hang from the low ceiling. A kettle whistles on the stove as I kneel by Hannah’s bedside and take her hands in mine, finding them warm and soft. Her coloring is perfect, and she still has that smile on her face like she’s simply dreaming. “You can’t spirit through time and space all willy nilly,” the old woman croaks, her voice wobbly but calm and motherly as she pours hot water into a large, metal bowl full of herbs. “She’s split between two worlds. Here, and with her mate.”I look up at the woman, who has barely said a word to me a
*Maddy*I watch as Isaac leans over his desk to grab another stack of papers from a banker’s box on the far edge. He sighs as he flips through the papers and sets them down, reaching for a pair of manilla folders instead, and sits back down. I turn my head back to the window and watch the rain fall in dizzying sheets of silver, the entire back garden cast in shadow and glistening with dampness. My hand rests on the swell of my belly. Our son kicks me softly, and I smile to myself, tapping my fingers as if to say, “Hello, little one.”“Is he kicking again?” Isaac asks as he leans back in his office chair and places a large, warm hand on my stomach. I adjust the position of his hand and lay my hand over his, waiting. Our son is still so small, but his movements have become more noticeable the last few days. A featherlight movement brushes over Isaac’s hand. I watch my mate’s face as he feels his son kick for the first time. “That’s incredible,” he says, meeting my eyes. “Does it bothe
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,
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