Misty
Before my body even catches up to itself, Mom has her arms around me, pulling me into the tightest hug possible as Sarah’s powers shudder away, falling like ash that covers the ornate red carpet in one of the upper wings of Aunt Ella’s palace in Moonrise.
Golden finishes blur my vision. My senses go haywire for a fraction of a second before familiar scents and voices bring me back to reality.
I slowly fold my arms around Mom’s back and squeeze.
Neither of us says anything for a long, long time. I stand on my tiptoes and rest my chin on her shoulder, closing my eyes and breathing in her sweet, floral scent. She’s been wearing the same perfume for decades. She always smells the same–the smell of my childhood.
“Mama,” I whisper into her strawberry scented hair.
She trembles with silent sobs, cupping the back of my head as she pulls away. Her big, dark blue eyes–eyes she shares with Sydney and Ryan–sweep over my face, over the new lines of exhaustion and heartbreak.
I feel a pang of regret… for Lavender. Looking into my own mom’s eyes and seeing her joyous relief over having her daughter back, and whole, makes me imagine what losing Elsbeth must have been like.
What scrubbing her blood from the floor must have been like.
It all comes rushing back to me. The attack on TU… watching the books in the library suspend in midair before they fell, and the screams that followed. Being caught with a silver net and unable to do anything while Georgia was brutalized and dragged away. Luke’s mangled shoulder. That odd look in Cole’s eyes the first time I saw him without his order mask, how angry he’d been with me–and now I know why.
He warned me repeatedly to leave campus.
But I would never have known him if I had. I would have missed my chance at the few precious, though absolutely traumatizing, weeks we had together.
I wouldn’t have had him. Our baby.
Mom pulls away to inspect me further and notices the hand I have pressed against my lower belly. It’s a reflex. I can’t help it. I know she can see the pain behind my gaze when her eyes meet mine again.
“Oh, Misty,” she whispers against the onrush of conversation beginning to funnel around us. “Oh, honey–”
“I should see Kenna, shouldn’t I?” Kenna, my cousin, the midwife. She’d be able to help me. Help me through this pregnancy, on my own. By myself. Mateless.
Mom smooths her hand through my hair as the sounds of the palace reach their normal pitch. Excited children bounce through the room. Sarah presses quick kisses to her sons’ heads before mentioning she has a few more people to pick up, followed by Cosette asking if she’s feeling all right, if her powers are dimming, if she needs food, and rest.
But Sarah disappears in a flash of violet light, sending a slight chill through the room as her powers waft over us.
The children go on playing like nothing happened.
They’re used to this now, which is… gut wrenching. Being separated from their parents.
Aviva disappears around a corner, her head hanging, just as Ella stalks into the room, pausing to watch my sister-in-law move swiftly down to what I assume is the private apartment Ryan keeps in the castle.
Ella’s eyes soften, her mouth working despite staying silent, but then she turns her attention to me. “We need to talk.”
“Can it wait, Ella, please? She needs to eat something.” My mom holds Ella’s gaze, but I already know the answer.
This conversation can’t wait. Ella is the Queen of Eastonia. Every Alpha King bends the knee to her, and her alone.
I step out of Mom’s embrace and walk to my aunt but brush past her, walking down a familiar hallway, down a familiar set of steps, another hallway, and finally, into her massive, golden office.
The silence surrounds me in a warm embrace. I sink into a luxurious leather armchair and hang my head in my hands, listening to my own thundering heartbeat. Waves of anguish run through me, sharp and throbbing, before receding like the tide.
I don’t feel like myself. Maybe it’s because… today is still my birthday. I think…. Has it only been a few hours since the ball? I’m changed. I have my wolf. I should have my mate, too.
My body convulses with a sob that makes my bones knock together. I have no will to eat, let alone breathe. I want to crawl in bed and hide, let myself wither away.
We’ve all heard the stories about what rejection does to a wolf. It’s painful and jarring. Some people go mad. Some people lose their ability to shift, at least, temporarily.
Going insane doesn’t sound so bad, especially after what happened to me over the past several weeks. Losing that rational part of my mind would be a blessing right now. All I want to do is lean into the part of me that’s already scheming about how to get back to the man that rejected me, so I can save his life, or die trying… beside him.
The door clicks shut somewhere behind me, followed by Ella’s soft footsteps. I lift my head as she leans on the corner of her desk, dressed in fitted cream trousers and a matching blouse. Her hair is swept in her usual bun–right on the top of her head, and messy–with rogue waves falling around her sculpted face.
I’ve always thought of Ella as the family beauty. But when she opens her mouth, her sharp tongue twists that beauty into something so fierce I’ve seen grown men cower in her presence.
But at one point, she was like me. Almost exactly. Stuck in a foreign place with a mate she thought was her enemy but grew to love so deeply she’d move mountains for him.
“Did our family ever truly forgive Uncle Ryatt?” I ask without meaning to even open my mouth.
She sighs heavily, crossing her arms under her chest. “I didn’t really give them a choice in the matter. Your grandma can attest to that, seeing as she met him for the first time because I burned a hole through the center of their house in order to save his life.” She unwinds her arms and thumbs a piece of paper hanging off her slightly unorganized desk, her eyes distant and dreamy. “But yes, he was forgiven. He was never their enemy to begin with.”
“But he tried to be. To push you away.”
“To keep me at arm’s length,” she replies, smiling wistfully around some memory. “You can obviously see how that turned out.”
“So it’s possible, then.”
Her eyes meet mine and hold as she sits in the armchair beside mine, slouching and crossing her legs. She looks exhausted and worn. “Start from the beginning, Misty. I need to know everything that happened to you.”
So, I begin. I paint her my story in vivid color. I bring to life the memories I hope to one day forget. I show her the Cole I once knew as a monster, a murderer, a tyrant, and then show her the man I fell in love with. My mate.
Talking about Richard and the order is harder than anticipated. I don’t leave out a single detail, no matter how small and insignificant. How they dress, who I recognized within their ranks, their manner of speaking, walking, and fighting.
I name names. I tell her who I believe was fighting for Cole within the order and who sided with Richard. I describe the fortress and how to find it, if possible.
Hours must have passed. The sunlight coming through the massive windows in her office spills across the shallow carpet, signaling midday. More time wasted, in my opinion. More time I could have spent fighting beside my mate.
Ella sits quietly beside me the entire time. She doesn’t ask questions, or prod me for more details.
But when I tell her that Cole and I did, in fact, sleep together… her eyes meet mine.
“Richard had to know Cole was using me as intended,” I whisper, shame ripe in every word. “And Cole… I think he was running out of ways to keep Richard away from me, so we…. He did what he needed to do, and I was a willing participant.” My throat closes, but I edge forward, pushing past the memory of that first time together and how Cole nearly fell apart. “But it wasn’t the only time. And… I fell in love with him. He’s my mate. He–he was.”
“Ryatt told me what happened,” she says softly, her eyes holding on her fingers. “That he rejected you.”
“Yeah. Uhm… I don’t know what to say, other than he’s not the monster he had to pretend to be. He’s not the enemy of your kingdom. He’s been trying to unravel the order from within, and I think he made progress, because he attacked Richard just as Dad and Uncle Ryatt took me away.”
“His father was a good friend of ours…. I have a hard time believing Jaxon wouldn’t have reached out for help.”
“You don’t know Richard,” I croak. “He would have… he has the Book of Whispers.”
Ella’s gaze flicks to mine, her face going pale.
“He says he has the location of the Gate of the Gods, and that’s why he needed me. Because he thought I had the power that Dad has–the ability to unlock anything. Cole used me as a breeder to keep me safe and away from him, but he ran out of ways to do it.”
Ella’s at a loss for words. She rises, dusting her suddenly clammy hands on her pants. “Can you unlock anything, Misty?”
“I don’t know.” I rise, letting my powers flow free, turning the palm of my hand toward her and showing her my newest little trick. My powers of mist form a perfect, basic key in the palm of my hand. She watches as the mist shifts, turning to a blade, then a silly, little bird. Random things. Stupid things. Useless… things.
Her eyes meet mine full of an emotion I can’t decipher. “And you believe Richard, the book, and the Gate are in Serpentia?”
“Cole believed so.”
“Has he ever seen the Gate?”
“No. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to be or what it looks like.”
She nods, pacing. “I still have access to the mind-link with Ryatt. Our powers allow us a… larger distance, so to speak. Cole was not in Oasia when they arrived earlier this morning. In fact, the castle was on fire.”
A chill snakes up my spine. “Did he make it out?”
“We have Evander’s Ghosts heading to Serpentia as we speak to do some spying on the order, and to locate Prince–Alpha King Cole. If he’s located, you’ll be the first to know.”
“So what's the plan?” I wring my hands, growing desperate.
Ella clicks her tongue. “Right now, our allied armies are storming Tarsian. Serpentia is several days’ journey from the border, but we’re hoping Richard and his forces back down when they see us coming. I’m sure we’ll outnumber him by the thousands–”
“That’s not going to matter,” I argue. “The magic he has–”
“I understand your concerns,” she cuts in.
“Our family should be there, fighting! All of our combined powers–”
“This isn’t just about our family, or your mate. I have my people to think about. I have Tarsian to think about. A long, drawn out, bloody war–”
“There will be a war, Ella. I’ve seen it.” I point to my head. “I’ve seen it. I see visions, like grandma. I’ve seen the battlefield. The green magic everywhere. We need to go, or everyone is going to die. My brothers, Evander, my dad…” I step toward her. “Ryatt will die.”
“Ryatt is a Shadowsynger.”
“Richard’s curse doesn’t discriminate. I’ve seen it. I’ve healed it. I’ve broken it, and unless I’m back in Tarsian to stop him myself, it’s over.”
Ella swallows hard, her eyes searching mine. I want to shake her. I want to ask what happened to her to make her so weak. Anger flares like it’s never flared before, raging through me like a disease.
“You and Ryatt have the ability to wipe out an entire kingdom with the snap of your fingers,” I hiss, feeling her power settle around me, thrumming with its own heartbeat. “If you don’t do something… if you don’t let me do something… you’re going to have to, and it’ll be the end of Eastonia as we know it, won't it? You using your powers in full?”
“Misty, you’re young,” she snaps, but her eyes are sad and glossy. “I can’t fault you for having romantic notions about running into battle to save this man’s life, but it’s more complicated than that. Hundreds of thousands of lives are at stake if this curse spreads the way that you’ve said it does. Our warriors are at stake, and this needs to be handled delicately, diplomatically.”
“We’re past that,” I rasp, shaking my head. “You know it. Once our forces reach Serpentia, it’s over.”
“You don’t know that,” she says softly. “Plus, he needed you to open the gate, didn’t he? You cannot return to Tarsian for that very reason, Misty. I think you know that.”
“Mom,” Kenna’s voice rings through the room as she slides through the door and comes to an abrupt stop, noticing how close Ella and I are standing. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. Kenna clears her throat, saying, “Arthur is here.”
Ella takes a breath, turning from me. “Send Luke in with his Cryptex. Arthur will know what to do with it.”
“Luke’s here?” I gasp, turning to Kenna.