Sarah
The atrium is on the smaller side, built onto the far back side of Sydney’s manor. Snow glides off the domed glass ceiling, falling in giant piles along the exterior glass walls.
Beyond the glass, the world is cast in silver as the clouds choke the sun and cloak Shadowcrest in darkness.
Cosette was right about a storm coming. Wind rattles the walls of the atrium as I walk through the maze of plants planted directly into the ground, where a stone path gives way to patches of raw dirt and soil. Blake is fast asleep in a sling against my chest, my shirt clutched in his tiny fist.
“Does Sydney take care of these plants?” I ask, running my fingers over massive leaves belonging to tropical plants that definitely wouldn’t survive, even in this humid, deliciously hot atrium, without delicate care.
“Oh, Goddess no,” Cosette snorts, shaking her head. We meet up again, having take
SydneyIt’s 4:00 AM when I finally roll off my bed, wondering where the hell I am and how I lost an entire day. My body feels light as air as I walk downstairs in the dark in search of a drink of water, maybe even a cup of coffee, and find that I’m not alone.Cosette sits at the kitchen table–an informal setting with four chairs–and looks up at me as I shield my eyes from the sudden onslaught of light.“You survived,” she smirks, straightening up and shifting her weight to face me.“You should have woken me up yesterday afternoon,” I grumble, leaning against the kitchen island. I run my hand over my face, pinching the bridge of my nose as my body slowly comes back to reality.“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she says, clicking her tongue. “There’s a bag of potato chips and some fresh coffee waiting for you.”“Salt and caff
SarahI feel alive again for the first time in… well, I don’t know how long. My fingers are stained with juices from the stems and petals of the hundreds, if not thousands, of blooms I’ve been working with all morning, and the air is heavily scented; reminiscent of a fine, hot, summer day. I’m nearly done with the centerpieces. I doubt I’ll be allowed to actually go to the event to set up, so I’ve been arranging them in large glass vases myself while Cosette takes stock of every finished piece so far. Blake lays in the middle of the madness on a blanket, squirming, and lifting his little fists in the air. We’ve been taking turns all day with him, and it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t do much but eat, sleep, and need his diaper changed right now. I’ve never been this busy before, but the deadline is tomorrow morning. I can’t stop for a break even if I wanted to.Tomorrow night, the queen of freaking Crescent Falls will be holding her fancy party surrounded by my art. My stomach
SarahI wake up in my bed to bright, unforgiving winter sunlight shooting directly into my retinas. I wince, covering my eyes with my forearm.I have very vague memories of getting back to my bedroom in Sydney’s house. I remember being lifted and carried but thought maybe I was dreaming. I’m sure I dreamt it, actually, because it was the man of the house himself who lovingly carried me to bed after I’d fallen asleep face down in the center of the atrium, surrounded by potting soil and discarded flower stems.I can still smell him, though. That rich, forest scent laced with musk and sandalwood.It wasn’t a dream.I blink rapidly to adjust my eyes to the blinding sunlight and squint at the clock on the bedside table.My scream echoes through the room as I leap out of bed and fall onto the ground, my ankle caught in the bedsheet.I’m still in my clothes from
SarahSydney holds open the garage door for me, silently, and I step inside. He turns on a light switch. Light spills over the large space. Stupid, menial things I shouldn’t be paying attention to come into focus.I’m counting each breath I take and each movement he makes in the short amount of time we’ve been together tonight. I make note of the way his freshly polished, fancy shoes sound on the concrete floor, the way his watch catches the fluorescent light overhead as he reaches for a large garment bag laying over the washer and dryer, and how his eyes light up again as he glances at me before opening it.That roaring in my ears has to be my heartbeat; otherwise, Sydney has some serious issues with the furnace on the far side of the room.He turns toward me, discarding the garment bag back onto the washing machine, and holds open the most luxurious fur coat I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
SydneyI don’t miss the fact I just told Sarah something no one knows. Not even Kenna. Not even Ryan or Evander.It doesn’t matter. At least, I tell myself that. I’m not going to ruin her night by dragging her down into the depths of my own despair over my choices, which I’ve practically written in blood and all but pledged to the Goddess.I can’t deny how good it feels to have Sarah in my arms, though. She holds my hand as I softly spin us around the garden with the other couples. We’re probably the youngest pair on the dance floor. I spot my dad talking with a group of other Alphas. I don’t think he’s even noticed I’m here, but that’s probably for the best.All we’ve had to talk about lately is business. Ever since Uncle Ryatt had to close the borders between the two kingdoms, there’s been nothing but stress weighing down my dad’s shoulders.&nbs
Sarah“Get out!”Sydney shakes his head, taking another step, which means I’m either going to hit the door, or move out of his way, forced further into the sterile, brightly lit hotel bathroom.“You look ridiculous,” I spit, snarling the words. In my defense, he does. He’s wearing a white, fluffy robe that hits him mid-thigh and not much else from what I can tell.I’m wearing the same kind of robe.One would think that would diffuse things a bit, but no.I’m in pain, and the look he’s giving me right now is dizzying. Sydney looks like an Alpha, not the kind, slightly nerdy man I’ve grown to know and like.His canine teeth are slightly pointed and his eyes… fuck. They glow.“Are you about to fucking shift?” I dart away, my back hitting the glass exterior wall of the shower.He grabs
SarahWorn, weathered hands cup mine in the warmth of a room covered in faded wallpaper. Toys are scattered across a woven carpet of muted greens and yellows, and small voices lift in glee and mischief, blurred and faceless. The hands around mine are so large compared to my small, child-sized hands. Warm and rough, tender and caring, they curl around my fingers in a mother’s touch. “I know you're young,” the woman says, her face a fuzzy, fractured memory, “but you’ve lived through more than anyone should have to experience in one lifetime.”I’m eleven. Rain slams against the windows beside us. The landscape is a tangle of fog and storm clouds with nothing but a turbulent sea beyond. I’m just a child. I should be able to enjoy my childhood and not have to deal with all of this.“Look at me,” she whispers softly, gently, her voice so full of love but also pain. Her hands shake as she strokes my fingers. “You know what must be done. I will help you, but you can never go back. Everyone
SarahSydney’s hand slides down my side, gripping my ass, tugging me closer to him. My leggings feel impossibly tight and unnecessary right now. I’m desperate to get out of them, and I wiggle my hips for emphasis, which causes Sydney to groan my name and hiss out a breath. “Get them off,” I beg. He lifts his head, his eyes gleaming with heat and mischief in the soft lamplight coming from my bedside table. His eyes give me pause, a single second to rethink what we’re doing. Eyes like a storm brewing over the ocean when the normally crystal blue water turns dark and turbulent. Eyes that have seen so much beauty in the world and right now, they’re full of want for me. No one else has ever wanted me before. I don’t know how to feel. All I know is that Sydney is kissing lower and lower and every nerve in my body erupts at his touch. I arch against his lips as he kisses past my navel, and then his teeth catch the waistband of my leggings. He looks up at me with those eyes that are my
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
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.