*Isaac*Fogs wraps around the outer walls of the castle’s estate, my home, the home of my family, and now my wife. Despite early summer coming into full bloom, the air is chilled. Either that, or it’s just my skin prickling with icy heartbreak as I stand at the gate and look back at the front porch, where several women and children are standing, all of them dressed for bed in the early hours of the morning. Ben and Emery’s children rub their eyes and sniffle, swiping their tear stained cheeks against Trinity’s nightgown. I wonder about her and Rosie often. Trinity left Elijah, her mate and the Alpha of Moorn, behind over a week ago now to come here, seeking safety for herself and her daughter at his command. The grief of their separation has been written all over her face since she arrived at the castle under the guise of helping with wedding preparations. Does she wish she were there now, at the frontlines, with him? But she’s the Luna of that small territory, and Rosie is their o

*Isaac*Four days earlier…Cassian crouches on the other side of the fire, balancing on his heels. His pen scribbles over the notepad resting on his knee. He pauses, cursing under his breath,and tears the page free before crumpling it and throwing it in the fire. “What the fuck am I even supposed to say?” he says to himself, growling low in his throat as he makes a single mark on the page before sinking into a seated position on the hard ground. Trees choked by moss, their branches long dead, surround us. Behind us, miles of open plains stretch all the way back to Moorn. It took us days to reach this place. Several dozen camps light up the edge of the forest. Wolves pass back and forth in groups of three or four, and small groups of warriors in their human forms gather around fires just like this one, eating, drinking, and resting. Or trying to put words down on paper to send back home. Phones don’t work this far from any settlement. “Just tell her you're alive,” I mumble, scrat

*Maddy*I stand on the steps leading to the tower watching Isla as she hovers in the doorway. Past her, I she Ella’s shadow moving through her art studio, the sounds of paint being poured and brushes scraping against the ceramic jars she keeps them in. It’s almost dawn. The sky through the narrow windows is dreary and gray, and the scent of rain is heavy in the air. There will be no sun today. Or additional sleep, apparently, especially for Ella. I slowly ascend the stairs to stand in silence with Isla. Ella stands, her arm flying as she coats a canvas a foot taller than her with black paint. I find it momentarily hard to swallow as the black paint swirls like it has a mind of its own, drawing me in. “Come with me,” Isla whispers. She gently touches my elbow and turns toward the stairs. I glance back at Ella once more before following her. The house is quiet as we walk through the darkened hallways. Isla shows me into her room and closes the door behind us. She switches on the li

*Maddy*Wind whispers over us. Little flakes of silver ice bite into my cheeks despite the fact that it’s summer. Nothing here feels right. The long dead grass sways in a vicious breeze, the air so chilled it stings. The sky is pitch black and moonless, like the night came and refused to ease its grip on the world. There’s magic in the air, and not the good kind. The scent of death reaches my nose and causes me to shudder. Ella watches me, her eyes nearly black in the darkness. She pulls the tiniest bag I’ve ever seen out of her pocket, something so small she can hold it in the palm of her hand, and sets it on the ground at her feet. She starts removing her clothes. “Undress, Maddy. We need to get going. We’re not alone out here.”As if in answer, howling reaches us on the wind. I bristle and start unclasping my belt. What will we do with our clothes? Carry them in our mouths? I halt my progress, my shirt pulled up over my belly, as I watch reach down to stuff her boots into the im

*Maddox*These Goddess forsaken kids of mine. “He pulled a sword on me, Isla. A sword!” I shrug my leathers over my shoulders and fix my mate with a look that mimics her own–something made of steel and ice cold. “It’s been three days since Ella and Maddy took off after him. I’m going. I’m bringing Cassian with me.”“He had his arm bitten clean off–”“He is just fine,” I say through gritted teeth, knowing the direction this conversation is about to go. Isla, beautiful and convincing as always, has no intentions of hearing me out. She had no intentions of doing so yesterday–when I showed up at the castle expecting to find her and Ella safe and sound. Instead, after two days securing a perimeter around Moorn after the battle on the plains that had wiped out half of our territory’s warriors, and left a third of those remaining severely injured, I found her going toe-to-toe with Trinity. For twenty four years, they’d been friends, best friends, but Isla had murder in her eyes when I fou