Evander
I look down at a pair of familiar black gloves. They feel heavy in my hands, but that might just be the crushing ache of what's to come and why these have been given back to me.
The barracks in Moonrise suffered damage in the attack, but they’re still intact enough to house the unmarried and unmated warriors who reside in the city. I came here because I had to meet with Commander Artyom to get these fancy gloves back, and since every warrior is out in the city canvassing for hiding enemies, I’m alone.
I sit down on a random cot and stretch out my legs, going over the conversation I just had with King Ryatt.
I know this mission wasn’t given to me because I am the best in the field and the only chance of the Allied Kings finding this woman, whose name isn’t known. I am being forced away from Kenna while her father, the king, decides whether or not I’m worthy of her affection.
I don
MaeveI blink into the shadows of my room. The curtains are still drawn, but strips of deep, golden sunlight creep between the seams of the fabric, alerting me to the time. It’s nearly sunset. I slept most of the day, save for Cole occasionally checking on me, but now my stomach is tight with hunger, and my body feels… strange. I smooth my hand over my belly, but the baby is sleeping, curled in a snug ball right against my ribs, her favorite place to kick. The door creaks open. I pop my head from beneath the blankets as a tall, dark shadow steps inside the room, carrying the scent of food with him. “Are you awake?” Soren’s voice is… soft. Casual, showing no signs of pain or stress. I lift onto an elbow as he steps into the room and walks to the windows, opening one of the curtains enough to softly illuminate the space, and turns to me, his eyes scanning mine. “What’ve you been doing all day?” I ask, my tone lifted in suspicion. “It’s nearly nightfall.”“I’ve kept myself busy.” He
SorenMaeve’s room is painted in sunlight that reflects off the pale pink wallpaper inlaid with what I believe are real rose petals. This room smells like her–warm and rich with that underlying, unmistakable magnolia blossom scent that makes my mouth water despite my best efforts to remain neutral and calm throughout this entire ordeal. If anyone had asked me what I was actually planning on doing when I reached Moonrise two days ago, I wouldn’t have had an answer. I broke into the castle–shattered a fucking window knowing how easily I could have been overtaken by guards–but at that point, nothing mattered. I had to get to her, but when I did, and I saw her… fuck. Everything has changed. I watch Patton cross the room, taking several cautious steps toward Jane, who’s clutching a spiral bound planner like her life depends on it. Jane’s light brown hair is neatly pulled away from her softly beautiful face as she looks up at him, her cheeks burning a deep crimson. “Jane, would you give
MaeveMisty doesn’t ask questions, and I’m thankful for it. Blake watches with a scowl as Soren sits on the edge of the bed and extends his arm to Misty, who inspects it then looks at me. “It was an accident,” I tell her, swallowing past the guilt, and honestly, shame of hurting Soren like this. “I meant to do that to Blake.”Misty glances at Blake with a frown. “What the hell has gotten into you two?”Blake widens his stance, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at his shoes instead of answering her question. “Later,” I breathe. “Can his arm be healed fully?”Misty nods, but her eyes betray the motion. She inspects his wounds with a sigh then motions for him to lie down. Soren looks at me with a skeptical expression shimmering behind his eyes but does what she asks, and in a matter of seconds, Misty’s light begins to dance around the room. Soren takes several shallow breaths as she grips his hand, sending her magic of light and healing deep into his veins. I watch, ti
MaeveWhen I was young, Aviva told me a story about her early days in the Silverhide pack and the first time she ever saw Ryan in his beast form. I didn’t understand why back then, but she explained that newly mated couples occasionally go through a bit of a rough patch in the first days of their relationship. The men, she explained, were generally uncontrollable and often territorial of their new mates, going as far as to attack other males for even looking in their direction. Touching another man’s mate, however? Especially his heavily pregnant mate?That’s a death sentence.“Soren!” I rush out, but it’s too late. Soren and Blake collide, Blake’s iron grip on my upper arm snapping away in an instant, leaving me teetering off balance in the dark hallway. The sound of the men colliding with the wall and my new plaster cracking and falling to the floor brings me back to startling focus, and I quickly flip a light switch, flooding the corridor outside of my room with glaring light. “Y
Maeve“What did you say?” My mouth goes painfully dry. I try to swallow but fail, humming a choked sob as I search his eyes for understanding. The four feet of distance between feels like an ocean when he balls his hands into fists at his sides, widening his stance like he’s preparing for battle, and maybe he is. I can feel my own power prickling over my skin as it stands. “You’re my mate, Maeve.” I imagine this is what it feels like to be stabbed in the heart. I clutch the corner poster of my bed for support as I sink onto the mattress, overcome by… a sudden, overwhelming understanding that makes the last nine months make absolute sense. This whole time. All of these feelings–this insane, otherworldly heartbreak… “How long?” I ask, unable to look him in the eyes. “How long have you known?”“Since the morning after you danced on that table at the hotel in the Highlands,” he admits, his voice level and deep, like he’s holding back whatever he’s feeling. “I nearly–”“You almost ma
MaeveI wake to total darkness, shooting upright as my heart thunders in my chest. I rarely dream, but I felt… uneasy, to say the least, about something that now I can’t fully remember. I reach up to rub my eyes, exhaling, then inhaling deeply before going completely rigid as the events of the last several hours come back to me in a rush. I fly out of bed–at least, I roll–stumbling into a pair of slippers while cradling the swell of my belly and groping in the dark for my robe. There’s a slight chill in the late winter air as I rush out of the bedroom, sliding around the sharp corner into the living room where a single lamp is on, illuminating the two figures sitting around the fireplace, which has burned down to embers. Soren lifts his head to look at me, his eyes dark and details blurred by the shadows. Patton rises, the frantic look in his eyes softening as he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I obviously just interrupted a tense conversation judging by the look on both of