LOGINFractured memories of the night I nearly drank myself to death careen to the forefront of my mind. There was a woman. I don’t remember her face or her name. I was so far gone with drink and self-loathing that I gave in to whatever kind of attention and stimulations she had to offer. It was consensua
ColeThe letter came in the dead of night, rain-soaked and smeared, but I’d know her handwriting anywhere, in any condition. She’d written that she needed to see me, urgently, that it couldn’t wait, and she couldn’t explain why, not in a letter, not at the risk of what she needed to tell me going pu
EmeldaIt’s a quiet night. A long, silent walk from the castle. I needed this quiet, this stillness in the late summer air. Ravenfell comes into view beyond the trees, twinkling in the darkness. I smile, shaking my head as I look down at my shoes. I can still feel the weight of the twins in my arms
MichaelI haven’t been to Scarlet Thunder in… years. I didn’t realize how long it’s been until I pulled up to the back of the castle, somewhat startled by how small it looks compared to my memories from my childhood. Not that it's a small castle, but I'm much bigger now. I step out of my car, my fac
Faye“Oh, Faye, this is beautiful,” Emory says as she walks around the wide room on the second floor of the newly constructed manor. She runs her fingers over the pale blue and pink floral wallpaper and white trim, her jade eyes sparkling as she takes in the lace curtains and soft cream carpet. “I l
EmeldaIn the week since the twins were born, I’ve been busy with the final touches on my cottage. I spent days this past spring digging in the front garden, planting herbs and vegetables, and fixing the front path. I hired a group of shifters to replace the roof and update the inside, installing ne
EmeldaQueen Emory smiles at the spread of vampire-friendly food laid out on a tea-table. Blood pastries and cakes galore sit on pretty little trays adorned with flowers, flutes of blood made to sparkle resting beside them. “Are you not hungry?” she asks as I inspect the spread over the sound of Al
FayeEmelda slams the door shut behind Emory as I run into the suite I share with Michael. The familiar deep blue walls and warm air does nothing to calm my nerves as I whirl toward the women, my dress swirling out around me, feeling suddenly heavier than it had before. “What–what’s happening?” I a
MichaelI’m not sure what I expected getting married to feel like. In my mind, it had always been a business arrangement with little fanfare and no emotions attached. Now, that’s not the case. I’m a husband. I have a wife who I love, who wasn’t chosen for me based on whatever political alliance was
Michael“It could be hours–or a day,” Alma says quietly as she arranges her tonics on a table just outside the bedroom where Faye’s finally getting some rest. “It’s been hours already,” I tell her, motioning toward the window in my suite in the castle where moonlight drifts through the panes, casti







