RyattThe bartender at the quaint inn we’re staying at for the night pours me another glass of whiskey neat. I nod my thanks as little jolts of pain run up my spine, skittering like mice. It took three jumps to get from that hell-hole where my daughter was born back to Rifthold. I was barely standing by the end of it, and after two full days traveling on foot, we’ve finally made it to a familiar pack, a familiar village, and are back in the Roguelands.We’ll be close enough to Veiled Valley that I can spirit us the rest of the way there after another day of travel.I turn back to the table where I’ve just left the Alpha and Beta of this pack to finish their platters of roast beef, bread, and stew. Granger already retired to bed an hour ago, and the witch, still unnamed, is visiting with the local healer.Westfall has made himself scarce during our journey here and is fine acting as a scout while we navigate the Roguelands. Something has to be done, however. He’s on edge and flighty. I
EllaEverybody loves Kenna.We have been endlessly showered in praise and gifts over the last few days. Word spread about her birth, and every village we’ve passed through on our way home has been the same–lit up like a bonfire with music and revelry in her honor.Granger grunts under the weight of the heavy leather sack he’s lugging behind us as we walk out of the village proper. I don’t even know the name of this place, but everyone knew us, that’s for sure.“This is going to be you in a few weeks,” I tell him over my shoulder as I follow Ryatt into a moonlit clearing. He meets my gaze with a smile and looks lighter than he has in weeks.One more jump and we’re home.“Is everyone ready?” Ryatt says, a little breathlessly.I adjust the sling across my chest that someone fashioned for me and Kenna. She’s sleeping right now, gathered against my breasts with a little fist clutching my sweater. It’s chilly for a midsummer night and currently sprinkling a misty kind of rain that sticks to
EllaWe’ve spent several days in the castle… doing nothing, and it’s been the best three days of my life. Every morning I wake to Ryatt laying Kenna down between us and crawling back into bed for a few moments of peace as a family. Tender kisses and soft laughs fill those blissful minutes before we drag ourselves out of bed to dress for the day.Amanda and Granger haven’t been seen since we came home, but that was expected. Today is different, however. Today, we all gather in Ryatt’s office as heavy rain glides down the windows, and a storm brews outside, cloaking Veiled Valley in sheets of heavy gray mist.While the rest of us recovered from months of travel and torment, Isaac has been… well, my brother is the most annoying kind of tourist. He’s been out with Westfall every hour of the day for three days buying gifts to try to butter Maddy up when he returns home. He’s seen every inch of Veiled Valley, talked to just about everyone, and has been trying to figure out how he can mimic
RyattMy mother blinks, then blinks again, that milky, whirling magic clearing from her eyes. Eyes the color of emeralds lock on mine, then slowly graze toward Westfall.Her skin goes pale.“No,” she says, so softly we all almost miss it. “Where–” She backs away from Isaac and Westfall, shaking her head.“Cressie,” Westfall says, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s okay.”Her eyes dart to his, and her face crumbles. “Adrian?”I watch my parents find each other after over two decades apart, and it breaks me.She looks at me again, then at Ella, then down at the baby still in her arms. “Who is this? Whose baby is this?”“She’s ours,” I say, loud enough that my voice echoes around the room. Her eyes meet mine, and she shakes her head.I wait for her to ask me who I am. How do I explain that I’m her son? It’s been twenty years since she last saw me. I was just a child, and I was too young to hold onto the memory of her face, and now….“Ryatt?” Her voice cracks as she looks back at Wes
EllaGiselle watches me as I dip my toes in the lake. The little stone dock is probably older than the coven itself and so narrow only one person at a time can fit at the end.It’s not a full moon, but I can feel power all around me as I shed my cloak.I look over my shoulder at where Isaac and Ryatt are standing on the shore, their faces shielded by shadows. Ryatt’s sword glimmers in the moonlight, and Isaac looks odd standing next to him dressed in khaki pants and a blue button up shirt. He was wearing them when he breached the veil, apparently, and had them mended in the meantime.I exhale deeply, humming to myself as I look past them toward the twinkling lights of the coven. Somewhere in the depths of the glimmering village, Amanda, Granger, Westfall, and Cressendra are waiting, watching over Kenna for us.None of us knows what’s going to happen. I’m not even sure how to do this.But as I sweep my gaze back toward my mate and my brother, I see the mystics appearing in their white
Isla“Do you think we have enough?” I ask my mate as I brace my hands on the kitchen island in our sprawling, but cozy, beachside home. We rebuilt the one Ella destroyed and added four extra bedrooms, which are needed at a time like this.The whole family is here for the Winter Solstice next week.Maddox turns from the stove wearing an apron with little flowers all over it–a gift from our grandchildren. Four messy little names are scrawled on its pale blue fabric. Sydney, Ryan, Kenna, and Misty.Had anyone told me that one day I’d witness Maddox with a spatula in hand, wearing an apron while making pancakes shaped like animals, I wouldn’t have believed them.But look at us now.Maddox opens his mouth to answer my question but is interrupted by a shriek coming from beyond the double doors leading off the kitchen, which are open to the perfect day outside.I glance over my shoulder at the three children chasing each other in the backyard.“They’re going to wake up Misty,” Maddox sighs, s
KennaIt’s quiet here. The golden walls and spirling columns soak up the sun as I walk steadily toward my dad’s office. Beyond giant ceiling-height windows, the sparkling city of Moonrise, the capital of Eastonia, spreads out in a sea of cream and gold until it touches the banks of a lake the color of polished turquoise. On the opposite shore, at the base of a towering network of mountains, sits Old Moonrise–the original witch coven native to the Roguelands. Once, twenty or so years ago, there used to be a palace built of crystal sitting on a ridge overlooking the old village and the lake. Until, well, my mother destroyed it. I smile softly at the thought of my mom and pick up my pace, my sandals clacking against the white marble tiles. I turn a sharp corner, nodding hello to a trio of maids who pass me, and slip into my dad’s office like a shadow. He looks up from the massive mahogany desk in the center of the room, his dark brow lifting as I gently close the door behind me. Be
EvanderThe nondescript warehouse in the Crescent City commercial center smells like cleaning solution and sweat. I rerack my weights, panting, catching my reflection in the dirty mirrors overlooking the makeshift gym in one corner of the massive building. Above me, light pours from several half-broken windows at the juncture of the galvanized roof. A single pigeon flies from one rafter to the other. I take off my headphones, the thrumming music giving way to the sounds of my colleagues, my brothers in the Ghost forces, continuing their workouts. Flynn walks into view, his reflection in the mirror coming to rest beside mine. His dark hair is brushed away from his face, his dark eyes locking on mine as he nods and asks, “You still using those fifties?”“No.” I shake my head, motioning for him to take the dumbbells I just reracked. He pulls them off the shelf and sits on a weight bench, rolling his shoulders. “Fuck, man. How are you doing curls with these?”“Ev’s gonna need to buy s
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.
LoganBrie looks exhausted, but otherwise… happy, thank the Goddess, as she sits between her mother and Misty, listening to their conversation and picking at a sandwich. I lean my elbows on the table across the room where I’m sitting in silence, alone, still waiting for my mind to catch up with my body after Maeve jumped with us from the middle of the ocean to Veiled Valley. A shadow moves into view, crossing through the doorway before a shadow breaches the informal living area. Ryan looks around before turning the corner, beelining for me, waving away several rushed questions coming from the group of women on the couches nearby. He braces his hands on the table beside me, leaning down to whisper into my ear, “I need to speak to you in private before Ryatt returns. Can you come with me?”I glance at Brie, who’s watching us with her brows furrowed in worry. I suck my teeth before nodding, and Ryan moves back a step so I can stand. Brie and I have been using the mind-link as much as
BrieI pull the stool out from under my vanity, sinking down and facing Blake. I’m older than him by a few months. We’ve always been close, even when we were younger, and he tended to want to play rowdy boy games with Aris. He always sat quietly and played tea-party with me, though, without fail. He’s also the pariah of the family and knows it. His powers rival Ryatt’s, which is a terrifying thought. In fact, I often question who’s more powerful–him or Maeve? But that’s not a fair question at the moment, given that Maeve’s powers aren’t even fully developed yet. Blake, however… he exudes energy that makes my skin tingle as he sits in my desk chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “You found us, didn’t you?” He nods, a flash of guilt darkening his irises. “I admit I didn’t even look until Maeve cornered me. She felt you, she said. Sensed your arrival back in our waters.”I wonder how much Logan told the family. Probably everything, I’m sure. That man can talk, and I love that abou