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The Magpie
Last Updated:
2024-02-22 07:54:53
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The Alpha King's Breeder Her Scent
*Ryatt* Don’t come for me. Those words haunt me as I pick through the forest. Six of my men–my closest, most trustworthy warriors–fan out around me in a wide semi-circle, leaving no stone, twig, or bush unturned. It’s been days, and there’s no sign of Ella. Nothing. Nothing of her, or the maid that flung herself at us right as I used the full force of my powers to spirit us away to Eastonia. Don’t come for me… “There’s nothing here, Ryatt,” Granger says nearby. He stands to his full height, his golden hair gleaming in the sunrise streaming through the tree top. Green eyes meet mine, heavy with annoyance. “Maybe this is a good thing.”“I know,” I agree, but the words leave a bitter taste on my tongue. I hadn’t wanted to do this. I’d bucked against my destiny at every turn. Going to King Isaac’s ball four or five years ago had only made me more steadfast in my decision that I had to find another way to defeat my father without using Princess Ella as the weapon she was born to be.
Last Updated : 2024-02-23The Alpha King's Breeder Ashes to Ashes
*Ella*I open my eyes, blinking into the eerie green light of the cramped room I was thrown into a few hours ago. The walls are made of stone and drip with condensation. I look up at the wooden ceiling where streaks of light filter down and cause the floor to dance with pockets of pale gray. The ceiling is a trap door; the room I’m in is an outdoor cellar. A set of slimy stairs lead up to the ceiling, the slime now covered with muddy footprints. There’s nothing down here but me. No chair, bed, bathroom bucket, or food. The bastards who dragged me here stripped me of the coat I’d been wearing, and the chilly fall air bites into my skin. My hands, bound by iron shackles behind my back, are numb from the cold. It’s raining now. Water has been dripping through the ceiling, but now rain pelts the wooden boards above my head so violently it rattles. I close my eyes and imagine my studio, my paintings, mentally going through stacks of canvases and my inventory of paint. I’m just trying to
Last Updated : 2024-02-24The Alpha King's Breeder My Luna
*Ella*I shove Ryatt away from me, putting several feet of distance between us. I can still feel his touch on my chin from when he’d inspected the bruising on my cheeks. I realize with a start it had been only the second time we’d ever touched, the first being when I placed my hand in his hand when he’d come to take me home, to take me here. Now, I’ve shoved him. That’s the third time we’ve touched. Maybe, hopefully, the last. At least, I tell myself that. Seeing him in the flesh is incredibly unnerving. The sharp angles of his devastatingly handsome face draw me in, and those eyes? They’re magnetic. But being drop dead gorgeous only gets you so far in life. “I told you to stay away from me.”One dark brow arches, and his eyes narrow with obvious frustration. “You said, ‘Don’t come for me.’ What makes you think I’m here for you, Princess?”I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why else would you be here? I didn’t need your help with anything.”“Oh, really?” He looks down at the pile of as
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*Ella*It’s raining harder than I thought possible. Outside, the day has faded into night–and whatever gods they worship in this strange kingdom are livid. Thunder booms, shaking the small cottage. I curl my hands around a little metal mug full of whiskey and keep my head low as I listen to the conversations taking place all around me. Ryatt has an entourage–every one of them young, each of them built like a brick wall and oozing with violence. At least, that's what it seems like at first glance. But as the men, and one other woman, in the cottage grow used to my presence, that icy, murderous feeling in the room fades, replaced by something I find shockingly familiar. Ryatt and Granger left, taking Quinn, the only other female beside myself, with them to what sounds like a nearby town. Now, those left behind are playing drinking games and eating whatever feast the Magpie had laid out for his packmates before they all met a gruesome end. In fact, there’s a pile of dead wolves right
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*Ella*By all accounts, the village we arrive in under a cloak of inky, starless darkness looks like a small town somewhere in my brother’s territory. Streetlights cast a wide, crumbling gravel street in muted light, and buildings made of wood and stone rise in the distance along curved roads. A narrow, lazy river winds through the village. We cross several bridges, our footsteps the only sound. Our group has been broken into smaller parties of three or four people, everyone in their human forms, everyone acting like they’re simply out on a midnight stroll. As we walk further into the village, the buildings start to group closer together, and noise begins to cut through the hushed night air. There are no cars to be seen, but lighted signs and the sound of electricity buzz as we pass shops and what I believe are apartments. It’s like home, but… different. Less polished, less refined. Less modern, I realize. I stare up at one streetlight as I pass beneath it and see the same strange,
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*Ryatt*It doesn’t take long for word to spread about what happened at the auction. Especially since I burned it to the ground once all of my men and women were safely out of the building and scattering toward the outskirts of Twin Rivers. I sent Amanda and Ella with Granger. He’d take them back to the camp we established in the forest, a place tucked several miles from the winding, derelict road leading toward my father’s territory. Quinn, however, stands beside me at a market stall, her hood shielding half of her face in shadow. “I take it you’re staying,” I say to her under my breath as I pick through a variety of produce laid out in woven baskets. “Someone needs to stay behind and watch the Silver Bridge,” she says in a low rasping whisper. Quinn picks up an apple and bites into it, much to the annoyance of the man selling the produce. She flips a small coin in his direction and turns to me. “You’re sure about this? Keeping her?”“You act like she’s some wild animal I mean to
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*Ella*Granger drags me by the arm through the dense forest, his other hand clutching Amanda by the back of her shirt–something that hangs off her slight frame–likely belonging to one of Ryatt’s men–as he guides us away from the camp. Behind us, the sounds of battle ring through the forest. I barely have a moment to swallow, let alone think, or even catch my breath, before Granger shoves us both into a clearing that descends into a shadowed clump of tangled alders. I glance at the dark, shadowed recesses beyond the trees. A strange sensation drifts over my skin as the shadows seem to shift, beckoning me toward them. A shiver licks up my spine, making me wince and tear my eyesight from the trees back to Granger, who is currently shaking Amanda by the shoulders as he loudly, and sharply, scolds her. “You will stay with Ella, do you understand?”“Get off of me you fucking brute!” she hisses, shoving him away. He grabs her by the front of her shirt and pulls her back to him, leaning
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*Maddy*Cassian looks like absolute hell. His legs are stretched out on the couch in the informal den on the third floor, a place with a high-tech stereo and several bookcases stacked with magazines and board games. It’s normally a happy, relaxing place, but his presence sucks the very life out of the castle, let alone this room. A wiry old man with bottle-cap glasses inspects the gleaming metal arm now attached to Cassian, replacing the right arm he lost in battle. I’m speechless, in total shock as I hover nearby, standing on my toes to look over the shoulder of the stooped old healer. “Now, try to curl your fingers,” the healer says in a graveling voice. His nose crinkles with delight as Cassian does exactly that, the metal fingers flexing, then curling inward. “Incredible.”Dark circles line Cassian’s eyes, and his normally handsome face is hollow and expressionless as he wordlessly goes through the exercises instructed by the healer. Isaac stands nearby, his arms crossed, with
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
