Aviva
I wake to full sunlight bursting through ceiling height windows, warming the sheets covering a four poster bed. A cool morning breeze drifts through the open windows, ruffling the lace curtains as birdsong floats through the air.
It’s like something out of a dream. I stretch, groaning with delight as my skin slides over satin sheets, and relax with a slump.
I slept like the dead.
But as I feel toward the opposite side of the bed, the sheets are cool and empty. I roll over and reach for the bedside table where a piece of paper is propped against a vase full of fresh flowers.
“There’s breakfast down the hall in the pink room. I’ll see you later this afternoon.” I lie back with the note, smoothing my fingertip over the scribbles. Ryan has terrible handwriting. With a sigh, I roll out of bed and pad across the wide room. The carpet is soft, and the wallpaper is heavily detailed w
RyanThe club isn’t what I thought it would be. Sure, I’d had more than a few rowdy nights at the ancient taverns and inns scattered around the Roguelands drinking homemade beer and young whiskey, but this is….“They’re serious about a road system, then?” I ask over the thumping music, a mix of dark synth that makes my body believe it’s back in Crescent Falls, not standing in a sea of black velvet, gold finishes, and strobe lights in the center of Moonrise.Sydney sips his whiskey cocktail, nodding as he squints through the crowd to where Sarah, Aviva, and Kenna are currently tearing up the dancefloor. “Ryatt put a council of Alphas together a few years ago, and they finally voted to allow the road system. It’ll connect at the border with Crescent Falls, lead here, and across the rivers to Tarsian.”“Tarsian is already preparing for their own super-highway,” Evand
RyanMy fingers wind through Aviva’s hair as she kneels, rising on her knees. I should tell her to stop. A very small, insignificant part of me is begging to haul her upright and service her first, like a gentleman, but under the haze of the dim lighting and thrum of music vibrating up through the floor, I’m not feeling very gentlemanly. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation of her hands pressing against my thighs, her nails pinching my skin. This has to be some kind of dream state. My entire body jerks as her tongue glides up my shaft a second time in a slow, drawn out taste. She’s testing me. I know if I open my eyes, she’ll be looking up at me with that whiskey gaze that will have me spilling myself on her chest within seconds, and she hasn’t even fully taken me in her mouth yet. I’m fucked. “Aviva,” I choke out, my head rolling to the side against the door at my back. “Hmm?” She hums as she guides the head of my cock between her lips. It’s enough to send a jolt of electricit
Aviva“I can’t–you’re in heat. It’s my beast. It wants you bred, and I’m–” He starts to pull out, but I stop him, writhing in a way I know he loves. “Fuck, Aviva. Goddess, you’re making this–impossible.”“I’m going to come,” I whimper, begging him not to stop. “Please, don’t stop–”“You’re not on contraceptives,” he groans, sounding like himself for the first time since I led him out to dance. “I’ll get you pregnant. Right now, Aviva. It’ll happen now.”“Please?” Something in my voice breaks. It’s like… like I’m letting go of something, something that I let myself bury. A fear of mine only he has ever seen.But I trust him. Whatever comes. He’ll be beside me. I meet his eyes over my shoulder. His lips part, and his gaze is depthless, full
RyanThere are only three thoughts in my head at the moment, all of them intertwined. The first being that I’m starving. The second, that I’d like to eat, preferably as soon as possible, so I can haul my wife over my shoulder and carry her back to our bed to continue what we’d started last night.And finally, I do not like the look on Ryatt’s face as he gazes at my mate like she’s the answer to a riddle that’s been plaguing his mind for decades.At almost fifty, Ryatt still looks youthful and dangerous. He’s at his most powerful, from the whispers I’ve heard from my parents and close family acquaintances. He looks like a walking, talking angel of death with his shadows creeping between his fingers as he grips his desk, his silver eyes locked on Aviva.Something just changed, I know that for certain.“The G-Gate of the Gods,” Aviva says, standing, looki
AvivaThe next three days are easy and full of conversation, food, and children dictating our every waking hour. I’ve grown attached to Maeve despite the knowledge of her abilities, one of which is lighting herself on fire. She’s beginning to seek me out in a room now, crawling as fast as she can to tug on my pants or my skirt, and enjoys just sitting on my lap watching the other children play.Kenna watches us, not saying a word. Sarah has had a lot to say about it, however, going on and on about how there was finally another baby girl in the family but she wouldn’t allow anyone to touch her or snuggle with her… except for me.I wouldn’t consider Maeve to be a snuggly baby. She much prefers sitting on my lap and chewing on my fingers with the two razor sharp teeth she’s cutting in real time.All the while, Ryan floats in and out of whatever space we’re sharing with his family. He’
RyanIt’s barely dawn. Four hours ago, I was taking a deep breath as I tucked my mate into our bed, and now we’re here, lying low in the grasslands ten miles from Silver, with twenty of my best warriors scattered behind me. Stars still fill the sky, shining under a blanket of deep navy and vibrant violet. It's kind of hard to stay focused when the sunrise looks like this, the first echoes of gold casting Aviva, in wolf form, in a halo of light. She’s crouched in the swaying grass just a few feet below where the rest of us are lying, hiding in the scant brush and scorched trees. I watch her edge forward a few inches, her body covered in weapons and leather–one of her special dresses from Endova. A half dozen whispers ghost through my head, mingling with the thundering of my heartbeat in my ears as we watch, and watch, the dozen or so rogues passing by, moving in a lazy formation toward the forests we, and the tribal packs, call home. ‘What are they doing?’ Andrew lies on my left sid
Ryan“She’s not here, Ryan,” Mercy hisses as I run through the village. She’s hot on my heels, grabbing my fur to try to pull me to a stop but I’m not in my right mind.It’s been five hours since I last saw Aviva. Andrew and I have been scouring the forest and plains for any sign of her, but I lost her scent, and my desperate attempts to mind-link with her have come up empty and silent.I shift into my human form the second I cross into the pack house and immediately crash into one of the tables, tripping over the bench and landing on my side with a crunch. I’ve been in my wolf form since last night. Exhaustion sings through my bones as my vision spins. I hear Andrew similarly falling to the ground with a choked groan before hurried footsteps reach the pack house. Someone throws a blanket over me with a scoff, followed by Mercy’s sharp, soprano voice ripping through the air as she starts s
AvivaI’m having the time of my life.I zigzag through the woods in my wolf form after three rogues who’ve decided they want nothing to do with me. In fact, the rogues have stopped hunting me over the past several hours and instead are trying to get as far away from me as possible. Their prey has become their biggest predator.I did my best to lead the horde away from Endova. That was my goal–the reason I made the snap decision to leave my mate behind and race into the jaws of death itself. Now, I have the horde moving away from the tribal packlands all together, herding them back into the open plains like a shepherd, and they’re my sheep–if a shepherd killed their sheep, that is.I’ve lost count of how many there are. My red fur is completely black with their blood. I catch my reflection in another small, burbling creek as I leap, seeing only my eyes shining like polished amber against a
LoganSeveral Months LaterMoonrise is washed in rain as I pace the upper hallways of the grand palace. My muscles are impossibly tight as moans echo toward me and away again. I pace in the opposite direction of the cries of agony that cut me to the core. It’s been like this for hours now. We’d arrived in Moonrise last night with plans to visit for a few days before leaving for Veiled Valley for the next month or so, returning to Emberfyll in time for the birth of our child with time to spare, but things went awry. A nurse–a witch–rushes in my direction, her face pale and washed in concern. “Alpha King Logan? It’s time.”“Is she all right?”“She’s okay,” she lies, her eyes giving away her worry. I brush past her, the hallway blurring as my vision hones in on the door behind which my mate is writhing, begging for relief, but also more time. Our son is months early. Eight weeks early, to be exact. The witches have been trying to stop the labor for hours, but Brie’s in so much pain,
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,