*Isla*Seth’s golden eyes linger on Isaac, his face void of expression. He gave us the expected spirited congratulations, of course, going on and on about the prince born during battle. But his eyes had given away his true feelings, even if I was the only one who noticed it. Trinity, on the other hand, lingers in the corner of Maddox’s office, pretending to be invested in the books on the shelves lining the far wall. What is going on with these two, and most importantly, why? “Seth,” Maddox says, looking up from the map he has sprawled out on his desk. “I need to speak to you privately.”Seth nods, his hands clasped behind his back as Maddox motions towards the door. I watch them walk out of the office from my perch in a leather armchair near the dormant fireplace, wondering what exactly Maddox is going to say to him. I know Maddox will tell me whatever excuses Seth gives him for his odd behavior. What’s worse is that I know Maddox will believe him. Seth is Maddox’s Beta, but Ma
*Isla*I didn’t crawl back into bed until well after dinner, which was nothing more than whatever stew was leftover from the massive meals the kitchen had been cranking out all day for the warriors currently taking up the lower part of Maddox’s castle and the sweeping grounds inside the gate. It’d been chaos all day. First, I’d died in childbirth. Then, I’d come back to life. Then, I had barely a moment to wrap my head around the fact that I’d had a son before having to go track down my mate to tell him that I was, in fact, very much alive, and the diamond we thought would only restore peace to the hearts of the Alphas harbored secrets we didn’t have time to unravel. Now, I’m resting with my back against the headboard, Isaac’s tiny frame swaddled in my arms, his mouth slightly parted and dribbling with milk. Moonlight drifts through the windows, the curtains fluttering in a soft, humid breeze. Maddox said we’d rest together tonight, that we’d finally have a moment of peace in our h
*Maddox*Warriors still gather beyond the front gate to the castle. I watch as Vember commands them to open the gate, his eyes lined with fatigue. It’s been a long forty-eight hours, but here we are, one the other side, and I am still the Alpha King. My enemies have limped back to her respective territories with their tails between their legs. If I wasn’t leaving to return the diamond to the temple, I’d be calling on those traitorous Alphas to stand before me and accept whatever fate I feel is acceptable for their egregious crimes against me, my pack, and my home. But I can’t think about that now. I turn to look over my shoulder at the group standing on the front terrace, their bodies shadowed by the balconies on the second and third stories as they stand just out of the reach of the beaming morning sun. Isla stands in the center of the group, her hand laid flat on Isaac’s back as he rests against her shoulder. She is stone-faced, her hair braided and falling over one shoulder as s
*Isla*Poppy flutters around the sunny sitting room, moving from light filled window to window as she spins in a soft circle. Isaac is in her arms, and seems unphased by her attempts to get any type of reaction out of him. So far, at only three days old, he is a quiet, amiable baby. “He’s too young to really smile at you, Poppy,” I say from the floor where I’m sitting with my legs crossed. I look down at the paperwork littering the floor, my hand aching as I scribble my signature on something pertaining to a grocery order for the kitchen. I hadn’t realized how much went into being an Alpha, let alone an Alpha King. Nor had I realized how much I was going to have to do as the Luna of all Lunas. I place the signed paper on the pile of signed papers, which is sitting next to more piles of unsigned papers that doesn’t seem to be shrinking no matter how much time I spend on it. “This is madness,” I breathe, shaking my head as I look up at Poppy. “Is this all necessary?”“What do you
*Maddox*Hunter stands next to me at the river’s edge, the first inklings of morning light drifting lazily over the roiling water and the shadow land beyond. Dark clouds are gathering in the distance, and I try not to think of them as a dark omen to kick off our quest.I turn to see Trinity standing nearby, her eyes wide as she inspects the water, which is ripping past us at an impossible speed. Further down river is a rope–some type of woven line of metal stretching from one side of the river to the other, the side touching Hunter’s territory glinting in the sun as the first rays reflect off several carabiners meant to help ease us across. “Everything you own is going to be soaked,” Hunter says casually, glancing at the backpack I’m wearing. “You’re sure there isn’t another way across?”“Not at this time of year. Had you come three weeks earlier, you could’ve simply hopped from rock to rock to the other side.”I purse my lips and look back out over the icy, gray, white-capped rapid
*Isla*I open my eyes to the feeling of… suffocating. I grip my throat, fighting for breath as an icy blast of water shoots from my toes all the way to my fingertips, my hair standing on end as a crush pressure drags me down, and down, and down. My eyes attempt to focus through the utter swirling darkness, not a single shred of light to be seen. I’m stuck. I’m thrashing. My head cracks against something hard and rough, and then I’m being pulled upwards towards the surface. “Isla,” Poppy whispers in my ear, and I jolt back to reality, sucking in a desperate breath, and opening my eyes to Maddox’s bedroom. “I heard you crying out, Isla. Are you all right?”“A nightmare,” I reply thickly, smoothing the hair away from my face. It takes me a moment to come to terms with the fact that I am in the bedroom, my body warm and tangled in the quilt. I turn to look at the bassinet near my bedside. “I have him,” Poppy says quietly as I turn to her, seeing the tiny bundle in her arms. “He was cr
*Isla*It’s not even 5:00 in the morning when my toes touch the floor, cool to the touch. A day had passed since my nightmare of ice cold water, and tonight I dreamed of much more violent things. I was restless, unable to fully shut my eyes, and when I could, Isaac would wake. I’d eventually taken him to the nursery across the hall to be tended to by one of the nursemaids so I could try to get some rest. I’d felt guilty, and found it hard to sleep, but eventually I’d drifted back into my fitful dreams. More nightmares just like the first one. Soundless shadows wove through gnashing teeth and tearing claws until I woke again, sweating, and feeling like something was very, very wrong. Was it only in my dream that I tasted and smelled blood? Or was my house, my very room, now thick with a metallic scent that hadn’t been there before? I walk to the door as I pull my robe over my shoulders. It’s silent, so quiet I can hear my heart beating in my chest as I slowly turn the knob and ope
*Isla*Mystica’s eyes are hollow as she ties a ribbon around a bundle of herbs–rosemary, lavender, and sage. The whole room smells like spice, and when I look up at the ceiling I see nothing but bundles of drying greenery and flowers. This is Mystica’s haven, a small room near the back of the castle connected to the kitchen garden. Most of the maids use this space to hang herbs and store vegetables. I look at the rows and rows of built-in shelving, cans of last summer’s tomatoes, apples, and peaches perfectly organized and shimmering in hazy gray light filtering through the windows. I look down at the tea in front of me, which is supposed to be calming, but I can’t find the nerve to even lift it to my lips. Not after what happened last night, and not now that we're facing a threat from inside the castle walls. Two warriors stand near the door as I turn to look over my shoulder, their eyes focused on the windows behind where Mystica is sitting. “Has anyone said whether or not you’r
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