Ryan
James scribbles on a piece of paper as people file into the pack house out of the rain. The two-story community building I had built three years ago, when I established Silverhide, is built in a traditional style I forced Sydney to help me plan out. The walls are made of thick logs burnt a deep black. The first story is just a giant room with several long tables and enough chairs for everyone–all hundred or so members, including a few babies born this summer–to fit comfortably with room to spare.
A fire roars in the massive stone hearth at the very center of the room, sending heat licking down my back as I pace back and forth behind the main table.
James, my Beta, looks up as another group filters inside, writing their names down. Andrew, my head warrior, the commander of my meager forces, technically, sits on James’s other side, his hands folded neatly on the table's surface.
I’m not sure what
AvivaThe wind hasn’t yet swept last autumn’s leaves off the forest floor. Soft, pale green tufts of spring grass poke out in heaps as I crouch behind a large bramble bush, the earthy scent of the early blooms all around us momentarily stealing my senses.But only briefly. Ten year old Shosannah smells like adrenaline and the pancakes with blueberry syrup she had for breakfast as her soft red hair whips across my cheeks, her body rigid and bright green eyes focused on the sparse trees ahead of us.Lora, six, fidgets on my otherside. “Aviva,” she hisses, tugging on the sleeve of my tunic. “I have to pee!”“Shut up, Lora,” Shosh whispers, her arm flexed as she draws back her arrow, which looks massive against the child-sized bow I whittled for her as a Solstice gift.“Breath in,” I whisper against the rim of my little sister’s ear. She does, holding her br
Ryan“What happened to you?” Andrew asks as I walk back to where he’s waiting with a few wolves and men in their human forms, all of them carrying goods or pulling carts with our tents and what I hope are peace offerings for our new neighbors.Andrew’s light brown hair nearly touches his shoulders now compared to the short cropped hairstyle he used to wear in Crescent Falls. His dark eyes, the color of coal, are brighter, though. Happier. More at ease.I look my lead warrior, my meager forces commander, up and down as I walk up to the group. The left sleeve of my long sleeve shirt–handmade from linen spun and sewn by hand–is stained with blood. I look down at it and shrug. “I met some friends.”“Friends?” Jacob, who used to run my garage, chuckles.I smirk as I rest my hands on my hips and scan the small caravan of men and wolves who’ve been traveling
AvivaThe meeting hall is crowded from wall to wall. I hug one of the walls, my back pressed flat against it as I try to blend in with the dark stone. Everyone is merry as they walk between tables laden with food and drink. Everyone in attendance has worn their finest fabrics and beads. Many of the single, of age, young women have truly gone all out, in fact.I cross my arms under my less-than-ample breasts and tap my nails against the long gold chains looping around my neck, inlaid with multicolored beads of turquoise and amethyst.The necklace is one of the few things I have left of my mother except for Shosanna and Lora. Mercy didn’t want the necklace because turquoise is a stone rather than a gleaming gem, and amethyst “washes her out,” or so she says. In fact, she didn’t want much of mother’s things at all when she died six years ago, a few days after Lora came into the world. Her dresses were taken ap
Ryan“You’re sure there’s no way out of this?” Jacob asks Andrew two hours later. We’re sitting around a campfire roughly a half mile outside of the village.Andrew nods, glancing at me before hugging his knees. “These tribes are steeped in tradition, guys. I don’t know what else to say. If Alpha Ryan refused the girl, he would have been offered another, and another, and if he’d refused to marry outright, she would have been given as a… concubine, perhaps.”I close my eyes for a moment and sigh around the rim of my water jug. The sweet, heavy wine and mead I’d been served over and over again, my cup never empty, has my head pounding already.But the second I close my eyes, I see her. Aviva. What a name. It dances over my tongue like a song, and it seems fitting for her.She’s a very strange woman, and I mean that in the nicest way. She has a gla
AvivaRain patters across the wooden roof covering one corner of the old temple. I roll off the makeshift bed of hay and wool blankets I keep here. I stretch, rolling my neck. My hands are still bloody from the rogue I encountered last night as I gather my weapons and head down to the creek. I sleep out here sometimes, especially when the weather is nice. The old temple is just far enough from the village where I don’t have to worry about running into anyone during my nightly hunts but also close enough to keep me out of harm's way from the beasts that linger in the thick forest beyond the village.I’m washing my hands when I catch Alpha Ryan’s lingering scent. I forgot he’d come here last night, encountering me by accident, I believe. I try not to think about it as I walk back to the village, but it’s hard not to imagine every facial expression, especially the wry twist of his lips whenever I spoke.
Ryan“I feel like we’re in college again,” Jacob murmurs as we lean against the side of one of the earthen buildings on the outer ring of the village. He rolls his shoulders before crossing his arms over his chest, purposefully flexing. Andrew leans forward to peer at him, snorting, “Yeah, and just like in college, the chances of you getting’ any tail tonight is slim to nonexistent.”“I’ve put on like thirty pounds of muscle since then,” Jacob hisses, flexing his biceps in emphasis. I’m standing between them with my arms crossed as we watch the group of hunters–two dozen or so, by my estimation–prepare for the hunt. One group is entirely female and has my group's full, unwavering attention.“Do you remember the night,” Andrew laughs, pointing an accusatory finger at Jacob, “when you brought Gretchen Crosby to the fall formal afterparty?”“I don’t want to talk about that–”“And her boyfriend showed up, and instead of kicking his ass and taking her back to our dorm room, you ended up
AvivaAlpha Ryan is the largest wolf I’ve ever seen by a longshot. While his overall mass is incredibly shocking, if not a little intimidating, he’s much slower than me.I can hear him lumbering through the woods behind me as I dart around trees and fly over creek beds, sprinting deeper and deeper into the outer ring of the ever dark, ever untamed forest that sits on the outskirts of Endovian territory.The spring hunt is technically taking place in the sacred hunting grounds our tribe guards year round, but I’ve had my fill of deer. Plus, Alpha Ryan already snagged a golden elk, which up until two nights ago, had been my ultimate prize. Now that pelt is hanging in the meeting hall–a trophy–and a constant reminder of how my bride price was paid.I shake the thought out of my head and pick my way down a sharp decline into a shadowed valley where the trees rather suddenly drop off, revealing noth
AvivaAlpha Ryan shifts back to his human form, cloaked in shadows. He’s breathing heavily as he lumbers through the camp, crouching to rip into a clothing cache.I watch his shadow in silence, my heart beating out of rhythm. I only look away when the wind parts the treetops and allows moonlight to spread over the clearing again, illuminating the hellhound lying broken and in pieces at the very edge of the tree line.It takes two shallow breaths before it starts to fall in on itself, turning to ash that’s carried away by the wind.I slowly turn my gaze back to Alpha Ryan who is standing now, wearing a pair of pants that don’t fit him at all, the button holding them in place undone. Moonlight ghosts over his frame. Instead of tight, wiry muscles, he’s just… huge. There’s nothing lean about him. I can see the outline of his abdominals as he turns slightly to face me. The muscles in his che
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