Mag-log inLilaIt’s strange how the smallest sound, like the brush of quill to parchment, can fill a room with thoughts.The palace beyond our chambers is silent now, its pulse softened to the rhythm of domestic life. I can hear faint laughter drifting through the open balcony doors: the twins chasing each ot
DamonSomewhere below, laughter spills faintly through the gardens: high, bright, unguarded. The twins again, playing well-past their bedtime but I don’t have the heart to call them inside.I walk the long hall that leads from the council chamber to our private suite, the torches low, their flames s
Every tree leans toward the wind, every leaf trembles like it recognizes us.Ruby hums beneath my ribs, her joy is an endless echo. Faster, she urges. The world will wait for us to slow down later.So we run.Zane’s golden form stays just ahead, his stride long and sure, the light from the moon catc
LilaI could feel it in the stone beneath my bare feet, in the calm rhythm of the sentries’ hearts beyond the gates: the kingdom was in a time of peace.I slipped through the eastern corridor, skirts gathered in one hand, the cool floor pressing against my soles. When I reached the stables, I found
The crowd quieted instantly as she lifted her hands over the flame. The moon above flared brighter, its light spilling across her skin like liquid light.This was her kingdom. Our kingdom. I realized it had never really been mine alone.LilaThe fire crackled, alive and breathing. Its gold bled into
DamonThe air burned cold and clean beneath the full moon.From the dais, I could see the courtyard stretch endlessly below; lanterns hanging from the ramparts, petals scattered across stone, banners of every Pack rippling in the silver wind.Wolves, healers, and warriors stood shoulder to shoulder.
LilaThe Great Hall was tense with anticipationThe banners above had been changed overnight—deep red and silver swaths, embroidered with the Lycan crest, hung like ceremonial nooses from the vaulted ceiling. Someone had gone to great lengths to make the space feel celebratory.It only made the air
LilaThe robe they’d given me was too soft.Every thread brushed my skin like an apology, and I hated how easily I melted into it. It reminded me of the cell—how the cold had stripped away sensation until the return of warmth hurt.I sat by the window in Damon’s chambers, curled beneath a quilt I ha
“Because I don’t know what I want anymore.”She reached out and squeezed my hand, warm and solid. We sat in silence again.After a while, she asked, “Do you want to see him?”I hesitated. My thumb drifted along the edge of the teacup. The warmth had faded again.“I don’t know,” I whispered.But part
LilaI had never been so aware of my posture in my life.Back straight. Chin lifted. Hands folded neatly in my lap. Every breath I took in the training chamber felt rehearsed—like if I inhaled too deeply or blinked too slowly, someone would find fault in it.They were watching. All of them.The form







