The Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThaelen gripped the handrail, his heart thudding in his chest. Despite the beautiful clear day and the waters leaping with fish, the white curve of beach was empty. There was no smoke rising from the fortress to indicate that the hearth fires were lit, something that he could not recall ever happening before. The distance stole the details of the fortress from his sight, but he could make out enough to know that something was wrong, the familiar shapes and forms not quite right.“Something is wrong,” Altherra commented grimly.“Yes,” Thaelen agreed. “Do not begin unloading until I signal.”“Thaelen,” Sigrid said softly. “Do not go ashore. I fear…”Thaelen turned his head to look at her. Sigrid’s dreams had been increasing in frequency and violence during the course of their latest raid, but she would not speak of them to him, angry that he did not believe her to be seeing the future.Every year for the last decade they had attended the temple

Rideten, Six Months BeforeHeath was trying, Rhett thought as they strolled across the VIP red carpet and accepted their glass of champagne at the entrance. Every month, his blond mate would pick a night and take either Cameron or Rhett out on a one-on-one date night of some type. Usually, it involved an intimate dinner somewhere private and away from Havermouth, and they would talk about work, or the house, world events, and the people of their town in Heath’s effort to combat the seemingly ever-present slide into disconnecting with each other.Sometimes it worked. The conversation would begin to flow easily between them, they’d share some laughs, and Rhett would find his heart glowing with affection for his mate. Those nights, they’d pull off somewhere on the way home and f-k, quick and dirty, in the car, before going home to tease Cameron into joining them in the playroom for a photo shoot and some naughty play.Sometimes, however, it felt stiff, forced, and fake. They’d struggle t

Havermouth, Present TimeHeath let himself into the house as Talen and Aislen finished their shower.“Perfect timing,” Aislen wrapped her arms around him, relieved to have him back. He held her close and buried his face into her neck, kissing the skin as he inhaled her scent. His thoughts were a chaos of worry with sharper edges of fear threaded through. It was such a tangle that she could make no sense of it, other than that he had been unsuccessful at getting to Haven Farm.“No success in leaving Havermouth?” Talen asked, unsurprised.Heath shook his head in answer. “No, and the Van Helsings, or NES, or whatever they are, aren’t happy with me. They threatened to arrest me if I didn’t go home and stay home.”“Oh, god,” Aislen pulled back. “Heath, we think that they can tell somehow, and they’re marking werewolf houses. If they find out that you’re a werewolf…”“It is best if they do not find out,” Talen finished grimly. “I have lived through several of the Van Helsings’ efforts to er

The Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThe road was scarred with the annual pilgrimage fires, the trees and stones marked with the carvings left by those who travelled that way, recording their transit for those who would follow. Thaelen’s mark was amongst them. He had walked this path every year since Thorarin had decided that Thaelyn was approaching adulthood and old enough to perform the full sacrifice, and he had spent time in each fortress, growing to know the occupants, the lords and ladies, their children, their people, and their blood slaves.It hadn’t been a surprise to arrive again to a fortress burnt to a cinder, the dead left lying for the crows and carrion birds to feast upon, but the harsh call of the birds echoed the cries of his heart: How? How? How? He had to know, he thought. He had to know how this had come to be, how a force large enough had made it through the pass, how they had attacked with enough speed and force to overcome the vampires.His grief was raw a

The Human Enemy’s Land, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThe human man remained in the farthest corner of the cell away from Thaelen, huddled in on himself, his skin growing paler and his shaking worse as the night progressed towards the morning. Thaelen sat, his elbows on his knees and his head resting against the wall, watching him through narrowed eyes and wondering at which point his hunger would drive him mad.“Do you have a name?” Thaelen’s voice was a hoarse whisper, his mouth and throat so desiccated that speaking was painful. His breath steamed on the bitterly cold air.“Not that it matters… Gera,” the human was shaking so hard he stuttered his words.“Gera, you are dying,” Thaelen told him. “You know this, do you not?”Gera’s moan was wretched.“I need for you to live,” Thaelen said through his teeth. His clothing was starting to dry, but he was bitterly cold. The cold would not kill him, he knew, but it was very painful to endure. “If you die, I die also. You need me to live, as