Bowden We stop outside a small B ‘n B well on the outskirts of the tiny hovel of Bedford. The place was surprisingly busy, busier than Claremont at any rate, and the conductor at the Bedford station told me that it was common to see tourists stream into the town on weekends, especially in summer. After a little prodding, he did admit to seeing Clara, but couldn’t remember Kaiya. “Oh yeah,” he said when I showed him Clara’s photo. “Fucking red-headed witch that one. Strange way of speaking. She kept saying someting about the king wanting to kill ‘er,” the elderly conductor leaned in closer. “Now I ain’t no expert on the matter, but I don’t see why the king would bother with the likes of ‘er. Bit too low class for ‘im, if you ask me.” I look over my shoulder at Griffin and Jaeger who are laughing behind their hands. The old man is talking about the human king, not me. “Do you know where they might have gone?” “No, but e’ery hotel is pretty solidly booked for the next several weekends

KaiyaThe car ride home is quiet and uncomfortable. Griffin keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror, a knowing little smile on his face, and every time Clara moves, her shackles rattles, fraying my already frazzled nerves just a little more.Bowden didn’t want to hang around at Sickle Moon's pack house. He was up well before sunrise and impatiently waited for the rest of the pack house to wake so we could get on the road.Since I didn't have any clean clothes, the pack's Luna, Marjorie, gave me some clothes, nothing too fancy this time as we didn’t spend the night with one of the most prosperous packs in the kingdom, and blessed me with a mate prayer before she turned very serious. “Are you afraid of the king?” she asked while I got dressed.I had no idea what happened to Bowden. He woke me and left. “I don’t know what to expect,” I said, “no one prepared me for being a mate. My mother died when I was young.”Luna Marjorie gave me a sad little smile. “That’s not what I meant…I mea

BowdenKaiya looks at me for a long time, not saying a single word. At long last, she puts down her mug and says. “This sucks.”For a moment, I’m completely taken aback and have no idea what to say. I expected her to ask me why I went looking for her if I can’t love her. I even expected her to get angry with me.I was not prepared for her to accept things as they are without any fruther arguments or endless questioning. Perhaps she's simply accepting it because she now understand the consequences of denying the mate bond. “What does?” I ask.“This whole mate bond thing. All the wolves in the world, and The Fates had to go and mate me to you.”"I thought you don't believe in The Fates," I say dryly."Yeah well...what do I know?"“Hm,” I grunt with a smile. “Well, look on the bright side.""What's the bright side?""Things could have been worse. They could have fated you to a wolf like Dorian.”She shudders visibly and finally lifts the domes off our breakfast trays. “So after what happ

Kaiya I stop dead just before Bowden enters the common gardens. Everywhere I look there are Lycans sitting at the round picnic tables with their mates, four or six of them to a table. Here and there I notice unmated Lycans, but they band together, sitting away from the couples without separating themselves from the rest of the group. Bowden frowns and turns back to me. “What’s wrong?” “There are so many people,” I whisper. If the Lycans can hear me, they’re pretending that they can’t. “This is our pack,” Bowden says and takes my hands. “You are their queen…uhm…their Luna. This is where you belong. It’ll be fine.” I grip Bowden’s hand and straighten my back, remembering how my mother used to walk through the tables when we had pack gatherings. She was always so proud and confident. I don’t know why, but I thought Lycans were different – solitary animals, unlike werewolves that need the companionship and protection of a pack. As soon as we enter the gardens, the Lycans and their ma

Bowden I stare at Kaiya, trying with everything in me to keep the fraying edges of my heart from unravelling even more. Do I tell her? Do I burden her with what she’ll become? "Well?" she asks. No. Not tonight. I can't do it. I can't bear it. “Just two friends having a disagreement.” “That did not look like a disagreement.” Her demeanour softens a little when she takes in my sorry state. “Do you need the doctor?” “No.” I groan and start to pick glass out of my legs. My trousers are shredded and random bits of glass poke out of my legs like porcupine quills. “Do you have a first-aid kit?” I scratch at a shard of glass out while I lift my eyes to look at her. “No. I’m going to shift.” “Won’t that just…embed the glass deeper into your skin?” “No,” I reply as I grit my teeth and yank out the shard, dropping the bit of glass on the coffee table with the rest. “It will pop right out.” “Then why are you doing that to yourself?” Because I’m trying to gather my thoughts and get Knox