Ella “I’m ready,” I reply, straightening my shoulders and sitting up, away from my mother, who is also the Goddess. “What do I need to do?” “You must go,” she urges, her eyes clear and untroubled despite the turmoil in mine. “Into the desert beyond this temple. There, I can communicate more clea
Everyone stands, ready for action, ready to follow me out into the desert to meet whatever the Goddess holds for us there. ________________ In the end, we don’t all go into the desert. Instead, it is only Cora, Reina, and I who prepare to set out into the sands. Roger puts up the biggest fuss at
Ella In the darkness of the back room, Reina instructs us to strip down to our skins and then hands us two rough robes that we pull over our heads, hardly more than bleached potato sacks with cowl necks and long sleeves. “Is this part of the ceremony?” I ask, curious and disliking the feel of th
“What do we do now?” Cora asks, likewise looking all around. As beautiful as it is, we are in an empty place. There is nothing here to with any script regarding what to do next. “Sit,” Reina instructs, pulling her garment over her head in a single graceful movement and spreading it out on the grou
Sinclair God damn it, I think, looking around at the hastily set-up headquarters that looks like a little more than a rickety table surrounded by anxious wolves. If this isn’t hell, then I don’t know what is. We arrived at the edge of the capital days ago and set up here, in an abandoned warehouse
As the prince stares, the door begins to creek open. With it, Damon’s smile grows. “Welcome, Kieran,” Damon purrs, quickly scanning the group he sees before him. “So nice to see you on this…momentous occasion.” “My Prince,” Kieran replies, giving him a deep bow. “King, now,” Damon growls, glarin
3rd Person “Now!” Kieran shouts, just as the knife starts to draw Sinclair’s blood, just as he was instructed to do. The blood, after all, would throw Damon’s guards into a frenzy, giving Kieran and his men the slight advantage they will need to pull this off. At his word, every single one of his
As they work, Sinclair leaps onto the table, which shudders under his weight. He crawls over top of the smaller wolf’s shuddering, whimpering form, his face still curled in a wolf’s rage, his jaws slavering with his hunger for vengeance. Beneath him, there is a flash, and then, in the blink of an