ログイン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
IanI know exactly who I am. That’s my problem as I stand in the center of a wide, earthen, circular room somewhere deep underground. An elderly woman rises on her toes to inspect the moon-shaped scars on my wrist. Her touch is gentle but prodding, especially on the older scars. My entire body is thrumming, however, with a new kind of knowledge that threatens to bring me to the floor, and there isn’t a chair or a stool in sight. She looks up into my eyes. “She’s fine. Resting. She stayed out there with you all night.”“No one should have allowed her near me.”“We tried.” She rewraps a loose bandage around the scars. “Do you know where you are?”I don’t bother shaking my head. I’m exhausted. I feel like my bones are worn so thin they’ll break if I so much as take a step. Above all, I feel an earth-shattering kind of guilt that’s woven so tightly between my ribs I find it hard to breathe. “What’s happening to us?” I ask, and the old woman meets my gaze again. “I’m a fox, did you kn
NaomiJuliette is probably the loveliest young woman I’ve ever seen. She’s kind and soft spoken, like her mother, Posey. She’s also very quiet and shy, all qualities she inherited from one of my favorite aunts. She has an underlying streak of rebelliousness, however, that screams allegiance to the Westwood side of our family, even if Great-Grandpa Ryatt refuses to admit that most of the drama our side of the family causes is a direct result of his, and Ella’s, genetics–the two most dramatic people in the Goddess’ kingdom. Julie, however, keeps that part of her safely hidden, which makes her the perfect spy. She’s only twenty, poor thing. She has an old soul and no patience for petty, girlish games and crushes. Her entire world revolves around alchemy, and she is exceptional at it. “It feels nice. I like the weight,” I muse, turning a smooth, silver blade over in my hand to inspect the mother-of-pearl grip I requested. “The alchemized moonstone can hold a good bit of power if you c
OakleyI ebb in and out of consciousness for some time. I’m fully aware, however, of how vastly my surroundings have changed, especially when I begin to regain feeling in my fingers and toes. At some point, the group holding us captive walked out of the forest and into a dense fog. My consciousness began to return midway across a narrow suspension bridge, which was terrifying, to say the least. Mountain air rushes around me now, even closed away in an underground room carved into a mountain side. I vaguely remember a tunnel system and torches. I remember soft murmurs and confused looking people stepping out of doorways or pushing curtains aside. Now, my body tingles all over to the point of pain, but I’m staying as quiet and as still as possible because I’m not alone. An elderly woman, who can’t be taller than four feet at the most, sits on the edge of the bed I was unceremoniously dumped on less than an hour ago. She’s humming an unfamiliar tune while she grinds herbs in a bowl an
OakleyMy body hits the rock wall, but not as hard as I intended when I decide this would be a better way to die than between that monster’s teeth. The contact does knock the wind out of me, though, and I fall backward directly on my ass in a puddle of stale, sulfuric smelling water. The beast snorts and huffs nearby, and those sounds echo into what I quickly realize is a tight space–a cave, a single rift in the rock wall I thought would be my grave. The opening is just wide enough for me to slide my hips through. Once I’m past the entrance, the space opens. I keep moving, instinct spurring me to get as far away as possible. I pause and scrub my hands over my face, taking several deep breaths to try to calm my nerves, but it’s useless. My chest aches while my heart continues to thunder. I have no weapons, no way to defend myself. I can’t outrun this monster, and for some reason, I can’t shift. I just don’t understand how to yet. I rise and creep back through the cave until I can se
*Isla*“Look at you,” Maddox beams as he balances on his hands and knees in front of Isaac on the floor in the large, airy sitting room near the library. I glance up from the magazine I’m reading to watch them, smiling as Maddox drops onto his elbows to look Isaac in the eyes. Isaac, hating every min
*Maddox*My head is ringing as I open my eyes and try to remember where I am and what’s going on. The last thing I remember is a bright light shining in my face and then being thrown. Judging by the pain in the back of my neck and my shoulders, I must’ve hit something hard.Turning around, I see I’m s
*Maddox*He looks like her. He has her blonde hair, even if it’s only a fine, silken dusting of it so far. I run my fingertips over his eyes, closed tight against the light flickering in the quiet corridor. They’re the same shape as her eyes, and I know as he starts to open them and see the world for
*Maddox*The sun is coming up as I sit outside of a makeshift tent near Isla’s Aunt Mary’s house—if one can even call it a house. It’s an old cabin that’s sort of falling over. The other wolves with me have volunteered to fix it up for her in exchange for her defeating the witch who was trying to kil







