LOGINOakleyPrincess Juliette is… beautiful. That’s the first thing I noticed about her after the shock of seeing Princess Naomi and Prince Fennec wore off. I haven’t spoken to either of them as it stands, but Juliette scooped me up and whisked me away, and after several hours spent in her quiet presence, I’m wondering if it had less to do with me needing some serious help and more to do with putting distance between herself and her traveling partners. The sunset burns a sharp gold as it fades through the trees. The fire in the center of the clearing is bright now against the backdrop of inky dark forest all around us. I’ve maintained a safe difference from Ian and his family, and I think it’s wise. I can feel the tension between him and Naomi, especially. Juliette doesn’t seem to care that everyone is fighting. “They look better already,” she says, angling my hands in the direction of the firelight to get a better view of the horrible burns turning my skin to leather. “I do have a heal
IanFennec turns my hand over to inspect the blistering on my palms, but I’m watching Juliette tend to Oakley a few yards away, against the far side of the sunny, but smoke scented, clearing. Both women are kneeling, and Julie is taking extra care while braiding Oakley’s hair. “That’s her, then?” Fennec asks, his silver eyes searching mine until I finally meet his gaze. I nod, at a loss for words. My three cousins arrived less than twenty minutes ago, and Naomi immediately took control. I can say with certainty this was the first time I wasn’t happy to see her. It’s not that we didn’t need her. We did. Badly. But her arrival was during a moment when things finally felt somewhat right. “Do the clothes fit?” Fennec says, tugging on my shirt. “You’re only an inch taller than me. I figured it would be fine.”“It’s fine. Thank you.” My throat feels torn raw. He follows my gaze to Oakley, who has fresh bandages on her hands, and the wound on her face has already healed to a shocking s
OakleyAlpin steps into the water. He’s naked. Totally, completely naked. It doesn’t matter. His skin is scorched to a crisp, all shades of red, blue, and black. His arm hangs at an awkward angle from his left shoulder, useless. But in his right arm, he brandishes what I believe is an axe. I push upright, swaying as my body rejects the sudden movement. He slowly moves in my direction. I suppose if he were in better shape, I’d be dead by now at his hand, but neither of us are at our best, and that is in my favor. I brace myself on a tree, taking several painful, burning breaths. My legs refuse to cooperate, even staring death in the face. Alpin can’t speak, which I realize within seconds as his battered face catches a single beam of moonlight breaking through the smokey sky. His jaw is completely dislocated. His teeth are shattered–a bloody, uncanny mess. He went through hell. He deserved it. I take a step away from him, and my legs immediately buckle. I flail, but my hand slips fr
OakleyI’ve seen plenty of people shift into wolves. It’s such a common occurrence that it’s not something I dwell on. Some people are very dramatic about it, shifting in an instant and letting their clothing fray to ribbons. Others take their time, stretching and loosening up before stripping naked and neatly folding their clothes. It’s not violent or painful. It’s a simple, little pop, and all of a sudden, they have four legs instead of two. This is different. This is bloody and grotesque. This is painful, and it’s happening right above me. My scream is swallowed by a sucking sound that shatters the air around us. Ian’s pain radiates through me, forcing my heart to beat like a quick, frantic drum. His skin turns an inky, swallow green before melting away and revealing his new form. Perhaps his true form. “Don’t move!” Wren shouts, holding his hands out in surrender as Ian, now fully seated in his beast form, his wings expanded as far as possible in the snug, low-ceiling room, lif
Ian“You never shared your name.”The healer tucks her silver hair behind her ears and completely ignores my statement. She’s been busy with her hands for the past hour, grinding herbs and packing them away into little bags. The scents are all familiar healing herbs that are grown throughout Eastonia–familiar spices, familiar sounds. I could be back in New Glade, if this room was different. It’s all the same. She tucks the bundles into a canvas backpack, adding to a growing collection of supplies she means to send with Oakley when Wren’s friend, Amalie, comes to fetch her. I won’t recognize Amalie. I haven’t seen anyone from their pack, or skulk, in fox terms. We’ve been locked away here, in what I believe are this healer’s private rooms. “You need to eat. You haven’t touched your porridge.” She points at the bowl in front of me. “You have a long night ahead of you.”“Wouldn’t it be better for my beast to be starving? Wren wants violence. I can give that to him.”“Wren is risking ev
OakleyI suppose, looking back on my entire life, I had girlish, romantic notions about eventually finding my mate. Yes, I have been one to say things like, “The mate bond isn’t instantaneous for everyone,” or to straight up allude to the idea that the moment of knowing isn’t like a lightning bolt to the chest, or tasting color, or seeing music notes floating around–however people describe it. Maybe the lucky ones feel like that and get their happily ever after immediately. But what is a relationship with one’s mate, possibly future husband, and the future father of my children, without a little… strife? Ian looks like he’s been dragged through hell and back twice over, and somehow, is still so handsome I could cry. I should feel lucky, and maybe, deep down, I do. But this was not how I imagined finding out I have a mate, and I have no doubt that he feels the same way. Bowls of soup go untouched on a table on the far side of the snug room where we’re being kept like prisoners beca
*Maddox*I walk ahead of the stretcher carrying Isla and try not to pull my fur out. If I had thumbs, I might’ve already pulled out enough fur around my forehead that I’d look bald.Images of a wolf with a receding hairline come to mind, and I almost laugh. But nothing is that funny right now.What the
*Isla*“Can I come in?”I stare at the girl, not quite sure what to say. I’m taken aback that she’s even here. What in the world could she possibly have to say to me?And yet, it’s very difficult for me to tell her to leave. She looks so sad, standing there in the doorway, her bulging stomach protrudin
*Isla*Maddox gives the signal for the condemned prisoners to be killed, and someone in the back of the crowd watching shouts, “Now!”Immediately, chaos erupts in front of the gallows as dozens of shifters leap up and change into their wolf forms. Women, children, and some men scream and try to get ou
AvivaRyan’s hands are huge. He can cover each of my breasts entirely. He can curl his thumb and forefinger around my wrists without issue. He could break my neck into splinters without even feeling the damage he’s doing.For a moment, I feel that rush o







