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[Araminta] Taking a deep breath, I raise my fist, and knock three times. The door swings inward, and the handsome older witch stands framed in the doorway, the warmth of his home inviting as he welcomes me inside. “Araminta, it’s late, is there something…?” he pauses, as his eyes wander from my face to my blood-covered hands and dress. "What happened?" "Harlem, I'm sorry, I...I didn’t know where else to go.” Looking nervously over my shoulder, I watch as Calyx gently carries my daughter down the path. “I need a place to rest, just for this evening, and then we’ll be gone…I don’t want to cause any trouble for you and Parris.” “Of course,” he steps to the side, letting me pass, “Whatever you need.” He places a warm hand on my shoulder and I feel the ever present rush of tingles. We’re both older, far too old to care about the sudden passionate rush of finding a potential zing, but over the last few months, as we've fought side by side in this new war against the humans and we’ve gr
[Sylvester]My mate is resting against my chest, her beautiful face turned away from the rising moon as our pups rest peacefully nestled on top of us, skin to skin, their naked bellies resting against our own. Our daughter, Arden, has the smallest auburn curl on the top of her bald head, her little face scrunched in the cutest way as she sleeps. I wonder if she’ll have blue eyes like me, or violet, like her mother. We already know she’s an alpha, already so powerful and barely a few hours old. And her little brother, Aspen, resting right beneath my chin, has a beautiful head of silky black hair. I wonder if he’ll keep it, and be darker like me, or if it’ll fall out and become something completely different. When he was first born, I thought he was a bit tan, with skin more like mine, but now that the room is dark and we’re snuggled so closely, I can see he’s glowing very faintly, his witch heritage coming to the forefront. They are so beautiful, my little family. I don’t know what I’
[Calyx] Rushing forward, I reach out to grab my mate before she plummets from the open balcony. My hands slip on the slick blood as I fail to grasp her fingertips, and then fail again when I reach for her nightgown.“ALEXIS!!!” I scream as she falls, my heart falling with her. So this is what it feels like, the pain of watching someone you care about destroy themselves. This is all my fault. I should have kidnapped her and gotten her the hell out of this place rather than use her for information to feed back to the Alpha King. I should have killed her Alpha mate with my own hands after the first night we met. She put her life on the line every time we met and she opened her heart and mind to me. And what did I offer her in return? Duplicity? Seduction? Weak promises and weaker offers wrapped in silken words and forbidden touches? Alexis is not a saint. She has done terrible things in her past, things that I know haunt her. But I've committed true acts of evil. It is my fate to wat
[Araminta] [Now] The world that we have now, this nightmare we are all trapped within, was never part of the plan. Fifty years ago we were young and foolish, children playing at being adults, not realizing the depth of our consequences. It is easy to dream of a better future for everyone, but so much harder to execute. There is no such thing as utopia--One person's paradise can easily be another person's hell. We created Crescent City to be a shining utopia for supernaturals, a place of peace and prosperity. But it was built on the labor of witches and only those in power lived in true peace. Poor wolves, hybrids, humans and witches were all second-class citizens to the werewolves in charge. So Channing and I created Haven, and from the rift in the world we made in creating this sanctuary, other shadow towns were formed--places for witches, and our witch-born hybrids to live. But when we created these places, we were too strict. To keep them safe, we made them as places for only wi
[Araminta] [TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO] Ten years have passed since I last saw him, and yet, except for a few lines around his eyes and mouth, and a bit of gray at his temples, he seems unchanged. He’s still as devastatingly handsome as ever. And even though I burned his mark from my skin, I can still feel the connection that shouldn’t be there, the tie that binds us closer than any zing. We are mates. Fated mates. There is nothing that can take that truth away from us. It is late afternoon, but he is alone as he stands in the parking garage underneath the packhouse tower. As soon as he sees I’m not alone, he pauses to look at my daughter. Our daughter. “Hello,” Channing reaches out a hand towards Amy. “My name is Channing. Channing Greystone.” Amy looks up at me, confused. Giving her my best smile, I nudge her forward. “It’s okay, sweetie. He’s a friend.” Hesitantly, she places her small hand within his much larger one. I can see the moment of recognition flash through Channin
[Araminta] [Today] The streets are silent tonight in Crescent City. It’s a marvel that this place, this vision of Channing and his twin of a metropolis for the children of the moon nestled along the bay, is still standing. After the witches left with the formation of Haven it boomed, yes, but it had forgotten how to bloom. And now, what was left, is starting to crumble into ruin. First the rogues, drugged and deranged, ravaged the town, infecting the innocent too poor or too slow to escape. Then the humans came, and began sweeping the survivors off the street, processing them into those death camps. Now that the wolves are starting to fight back, and the new Alpha King has begun the process of resistance and healing, the humans have left our once shining city alone. They still overwhelm our kind with sheer numbers. But we have magic and a will to survive made even more powerful when balanced with a very simple and primal truth: We have nothing left to lose. “Look at the mess