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Walked Right Into It
Last Updated:
2024-04-02 00:47:42
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*Ryatt*Twin Rivers is nothing but ash and stone as I walk beside Westfall through a wall of heavy fog tinged with smoke. It ripples around my boots as each of my steps echo in the nothingness the last battle left behind. Over the mind-link, I hear the voices of my commanders rattling off the names of their dead. My father’s royal army has pushed into the Roguelands like I expected, and I had my own forces retreat to the Deadlands, the last holdout before the coven, and Veiled Valley. Through the fog, I see the flickering lights of Rifthold across the bridge, the very bridge one of my commanders begged to have destroyed. It wouldn’t have prevented this carnage. We are mere wolves against an enemy with power stolen from others and manipulated to mirror death at every turn. In the end, there will be nothing left of my territory. Those packs that do survive will have to rebuild. All I can do is give them a final parting gift by destroying Rifthold in its entirety, even though it will
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*Ella*At first I think I’m standing in front of Ryatt in a cold, stone-lined bedroom with nothing but a small bed and dresser to furnish the space. But, it’s not Ryatt. Glacier blue eyes look past me as the man turns around, his face drawn and brow pinched in an expression I know belongs to one man, and one man alone. But Commander Westfall is so much younger. He can’t be much older than Ryatt in this–this vision. This dream. Westfall stalks forward, brushing past me. I turn, following his movements. “This is madness,” Westfall says to the beautiful young woman sitting on the edge of the bed with a child sleeping in her lap. She combs her bruised and swollen fingers through the boy’s thick, dark curls, his own face peppered with fresh bruises. “You’re leaving, tonight!”“You know I can’t.” Silver manacles on each wrist gleam in the light of the several candles, the skin beneath them scarred from years of burns from the silver. “You know he’d find me in a second, Adrien. I cannot le
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Isla“Ella,” I whisper. I’m in shock. My entire body hums with adrenaline as I try to step deeper into what remains of my living room. Everything is ash and embers. The ceiling is gone, revealing the glare of the midmorning sun. And there she is, kneeling in the center of the room, covered in her mate’s blood. Maddox lurches forward, but I grab him around the waist and haul him back. “Wait!”Ella pants, her chest heaving with each ragged breath she takes. In the distance, I hear sirens. Smoke funnels toward the sky. It’s only a matter of minutes until people start descending on our property, and they can’t see this. “Ella,” I repeat, louder this time. “Take off the mask, honey.”She whimpers as she raises her bloody hands, her sea-green eyes full of tears. She’s wearing a dress that may have been white at some point. It’s thin, and hanging off her body, which is covered in bruises and deep scratches. I’m not sure where she’s hurt. I’m not sure what blood is hers and what blood is R
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*Isla*It’s a beautiful, clear night. Waves brush against the rocky shore of the private island in the Teal Isles, a small group of islands roughly forty miles south of Maatua. The moon is full and bright, casting a long silver beam across the practically still ocean. On a night like this, Maddox and I normally would have shifted and gone for a nice long run through the tropical forest surrounding Maatua. But now I’m standing by a window in a snug, wood paneled bedroom in the massive vacation home of the Alpha and Luna of Maatua wondering how we got to this point. I turn my head to look at the bed in the center of the room where Ryatt is lying on his side, his eyes pinched shut as he sleeps. He died at least twice today, three times if we count the moment his heart stopped during the surgery to mend and close a dozen stab wounds to his chest and abdomen. My tears were the only thing keeping him alive, even when his body repeatedly tried to give up. He’s stable now, at least. His
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