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
Ella As soon as the boat pulls up to the dock, I’m by the gangplank, eagerly waiting for the sailors to lower it. One of my hands rests on the underside of my swollen belly, holding my child close. The doctor that Sinclair assigned to come with us examined me the moment we stepped foot onboard aft
But if I do this right, if I can get there…damn it, but I can make a difference. I caught a little sleep on the boat on the way here. My anxiety kept it light, kept me from the dream state that would have allowed me to speak to Sinclair if he, too, were dreaming. It was a huge disappointment, not t
Ella We dash across the square, my hand clasped in Cora’s, adrenaline moving my legs for me even despite the face that I don’t have the strength for it. As we run, debris and smoke fly around us. The humans are pressing their advantage, shelling the center of the city with abandon after they heard
But then, very suddenly, I feel that tug. The one behind my ribcage. The one tied to him. Ella? My eyes fly open as I gasp and I cry out. “Dominic!” I shout, my eyes frantically searching the square for him. “What?” Cora pants, looking around, frantic. “What is it? Is he here?” “He’s here,” I
Ella The power comes slow, at first, and I feel like a dry terracotta pot into which the first drips of rain begin to fall. But then, as my body beings to take in the power, to soak it up like thirsty clay, the power starts to fall into me like a summer storm. It soaks every bit of me, splashing a