*Isla*“Where’s Maddox?” I wheeze, my body still trembling from the force of the fall. I’m not hurt, by some miracle destined by the Goddess, but my mind is reeling and chest tightening with panic as the warrior who caught me hurries inside the castle, Ben at our side. “And Poppy? Mystica? Antony–”“I’m going to find everyone, okay?” Ben pants. I turn my head to look at him, watching as he picks twigs and leaves out of his hair and clothes. No one had caught Ben. He’d fallen on his side in a thicket of roses, which softened his landing, but still, nothing about the last hour had been easy. All around us, the sound of battle was taking place. The forest had been full of wolves, more than I’d ever seen in my life. And all of this over Maddox choosing me instead of a high-born daughter of one of the Alphas who were supposed to be his allies. But he has the diamond. If we make it through the night…. If we can just make it through the night….I wince, pushing back the pain ripping over m

*Isla*I’m not sure if my eyes are open or shut. I don’t know if the tapestry above the bed–the rich fabric woven with florals amongst a blanket of stars–is actually what I’m seeing, or if I’m now laying outside, looking up into the endless, moonless night. I don’t feel the maids clutching my arms. I don’t feel the cool rag Poppy has draped over my forehead. I don’t feel Maddox’s large, calloused hand retreat from my bare, heated thigh. I just feel myself slipping away with each ragged, forced breath. “The baby is stuck. It’s been hours.”“We need your decision, Alpha.”“There is a way, but it means losing the mother.”“You will need to choose.”“The prince–or the Luna?”Choose our son. Choose our son. Maddox, if you can hear me, choose our son!“Isla, please,” Poppy’s terrified voice breaks through the haze, and I feel her shaking hands cup my cheeks. I can’t tell who’s talking. I can’t differentiate the voices of my loved ones from the voices of several strangers. But I can fee

Maddox’s eyes are even greener than normal in the soft clouds hovering over our heads in the unruly back garden. He stares at me, unblinking, his mouth slightly ajar as his brow furrows in confusion. “Did you hear me?” I say, taking a careful step towards him. Debris from the storm–broken branches and trellises ripped from the potted plants scattered everywhere–block my path as I lift my dress and gingerly close the distance between us. “You’re soaked! You’ll freeze–”My words are cut short as Maddox crushes me to his chest, his fingers curling and digging into my back. He trembles, his face pressed into my shoulder as he inhales deeply, then pushes me away. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but here I am, turning into a blubbering mess as my mate wraps his strong arms around me and nearly suffocates me with his strength. How can I even explain what happened? It’s practically impossible given that my memories of the birth of our son–our perfect, perfect son– are fragmented and

*Isla*I didn’t crawl back into bed until well after dinner, which was nothing more than whatever stew was leftover from the massive meals the kitchen had been cranking out all day for the warriors currently taking up the lower part of Maddox’s castle and the sweeping grounds inside the gate. It’d been chaos all day. First, I’d died in childbirth. Then, I’d come back to life. Then, I had barely a moment to wrap my head around the fact that I’d had a son before having to go track down my mate to tell him that I was, in fact, very much alive, and the diamond we thought would only restore peace to the hearts of the Alphas harbored secrets we didn’t have time to unravel. Now, I’m resting with my back against the headboard, Isaac’s tiny frame swaddled in my arms, his mouth slightly parted and dribbling with milk. Moonlight drifts through the windows, the curtains fluttering in a soft, humid breeze. Maddox said we’d rest together tonight, that we’d finally have a moment of peace in our h

*Isla*Poppy flutters around the sunny sitting room, moving from light filled window to window as she spins in a soft circle. Isaac is in her arms, and seems unphased by her attempts to get any type of reaction out of him. So far, at only three days old, he is a quiet, amiable baby. “He’s too young to really smile at you, Poppy,” I say from the floor where I’m sitting with my legs crossed. I look down at the paperwork littering the floor, my hand aching as I scribble my signature on something pertaining to a grocery order for the kitchen. I hadn’t realized how much went into being an Alpha, let alone an Alpha King. Nor had I realized how much I was going to have to do as the Luna of all Lunas. I place the signed paper on the pile of signed papers, which is sitting next to more piles of unsigned papers that doesn’t seem to be shrinking no matter how much time I spend on it. “This is madness,” I breathe, shaking my head as I look up at Poppy. “Is this all necessary?”“What do you