In all the versions of this plan, I never envisaged Zeke meeting his mate on the doorstep of the castle. Forced to watch his bond click into place, shivers of cold, sickening fear raced through me. It can’t be. Not Zeke. In the past, my family, Phillipe, and even Alpha Cillian have suggested I am fairly selfish. Incapable of taking someone else's feelings into account. Well, I just watched the man I love, the man whose baby I am carrying walk away with another woman and said nothing. I love him so much that I let it happen.Deep down, way beyond a level I could ever confess, even to myself, I think I had been dreaming he could perhaps be a second chance mate. Those sparks, that connection. It had to mean something, surely? Apparently not. /Hush, hush, do not shred yourself to pieces. We need our strength,/ Livi tried to console me, even trying to bring down my sky-rocketing pulse with waves of calming heat. Zeke swore forever to me, but a mate is different. I can’t hate him for t

I’m spread-eagled down on the ground waiting for the blackness of death to claim me. You don’t survive being impaled by a silver machete. You just don’t. Rush is of no use to me either after the rejection. I’m vaguely aware of him wailing and bawling in the darkest recesses of my mind as the rejection takes effect. Somehow, Finn is pulling me to my feet, his face white, grey eyes shocked. Entirely naked and covered in gaping claw marks he has taken a beating but his face is fixed on my ribcage where I should be gushing pints of blood. Lifting me up like a toddler, unsteady on my feet he shouted with the full force of his giant chest. “What the hell is this? What the fuck is happening right now!” “I don’t know…what the, where is Thalia?” Rush was absent in my mind, only a keening, miserable void echoing through to my bones. The pain of rejecting a mate, it’s as brutal as the rumours suggested. I’m dizzy, sick and like the worst flu, every joint wants to implode. I hope Thalia is i

Obviously Cillian went absolutely apeshit on me when we arrived back at the war front. It was nice to see everyone for sure, but I could have done without my childhood friend barely restraining himself from ripping me to shreds.Umbridled Alpha authority oozed from every pore. I knew his claws were on the verge of extending, his fingers twitching as he interrogated everyone. Those blue eyes of his frighteningly icy, topped with his wild red hair made a hell of a sight.I got to hear Briss, Finn, and Sawyer debrief Alpha Cillian first. That left waiting outside like a naughty schoolboy. It also helped to steady my nerves before I took my sad little turn inside the headquarters of fury. The green khaki tent filled with maps, reports and letters bristled in the wind, and the power of Cillian’s roar.“WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK WERE YOU DOING!”Stood in his tent, fully aware that the material hid absolutely none of our conversation from the men a dozen trees away I didn’t even try to claim in

Whoever said time is a healer was a lying son of a bitch. I get through the days fine enough. I prepare defences with Finn, Tucker and Hayden. The latter is trying to convince me my own sprawling tattoo art would help me deal with losing Franz. Considering he's absolutely drowning in ink, what kind of life has he had before joining the Shadowlands Warriors? I cut down and split trees for firewood until my muscles scream. Then like a glutton for punishment, I listen to Easton talk for hours on end. Literally hours. I do everything and anything Cillian asks of me.There was a brief moment of respite when I pinned the blonde Beta Adrian to the floor by his throat. With Alpha Cillian looming in the background he spluttered and panicked for his life. “I only read your letter because it came from Maddox!”“You didn’t trust Maddox?”“NIkolai took him off duty! If Nikolai doesn’t trust him, I don’t trust him! It’s nothing personal!”“You didn’t open anything else?”“Never! No! I thought I w

The storm beat me back to Cillian. The whole camp was on edge, knowing the thunder and rain meant more than any other storm. They’ve all been briefed. The air is thick, and conversations only half-completed. Standing on guard in a soaking tent isn’t much fun but I didn’t even care. The autumn chill sees us wearing our long green shirts and black pants. The cover above leaks. The vicious wind flaps it, flinging water to the ground. The lightning flashes like whip cracks, tearing open the sky above. I’m hoping that won’t matter after a few more days. A strange kind of high consumes me. I know Freya is alive. I play images of bursting through those Rising Star double doors and finding her. I want to sweep her into my arms and see her eyes blaze with ferocious color. I imagine placing my hand on her rounded stomach and a strange fluttering consumes my belly. I need to tell her that even though I briefly knew the sensations of a matebond my heart never left her. I was always hers if she