Aviva
The last time we were in Moonrise was for Lexa’s birth. Four months have passed in a blur, which I assume is normal when you have a baby for the first time. Pile on our responsibilities as Alpha and Luna of Silverhide, let alone the rulers of all the Deadlands, and time is merely a construct in our lives that I’m keen to ignore as long as possible.
Still, when Kenna arrived yesterday morning, chipper and excited to see us and Lexa, I felt a weight begin to press into my chest. Whatever Ryatt wants with me comes with a cost–which will be the end of our somewhat quiet, cozy life.
I spent the entire day in Kenna’s company while she made her rounds checking on every baby and mother in Silverhide. Ryan went off to do Alpha duties, like making sure James, his Beta, had what he needed to take over for a few days in our absence. His mate, Dahlia, is pregnant again–with twins this time–but Kenna seemed happy with her progress, telling me it’s likely Dahlia will deliver in early winter if she goes full term.
Just as night fell, Kenna dosed me and Lexa with herbs to make our journey a little easier on our bodies, and once that took effect, we were whisked into empty, cold nothingness for several seconds before landing on our feet in the familiar, gilded castle overlooking the turquoise lake of Moonrise.
Now, it’s morning. I braid my hair in the mirror over the vanity in the little apartment I share with Ryan in the castle–a room that holds memories that are as sweet as they are damning. Months ago, I laid in this bed alone and sobbed while Ryan went to war, not knowing if I’d ever see him again. Now, he’s asleep beside our daughter, both of them in the exact same position–like starfish–taking up the entire bed.
I smooth the fabric of the sage green sundress I chose for today’s meeting and stare at my reflection. I twist a few of the curls around my face until they somewhat behave and really look at myself, internally reflecting on who I am and what I’m capable of… right now… which is not commanding Ryatt’s impressive army or serving beside Evander as a Ghost.
I’m a mother now. I’m a Luna. I’m a wife in a happy marriage. Everything I thought I was before is gone, replaced by this new version of myself… someone softer, someone more empathetic and kinder than the old Aviva.
I credit Ryan for that change.
I left that broken, angry side of myself on the battlefield in Eastonia.
I look over my shoulder at my mate and our daughter. She looks like him, has started to make the same cocky facial expressions and that boyish smile that I love. Her eyes are made in his image–a deep, endless blue. But her curls are from me. Red and wild, they’ve grown out enough that they’re starting to coil around her forehead and ears, turning a pale copper gold as the sun begins to creep over her face.
I move to the windows with caution and silently pull the curtains closed against the sun before creeping out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind me with a wince. I have about an hour before I see them again–when Lexa wakes up and realizes I’m gone, panics, and Ryan finds me to show our angel that I haven’t abandoned her forever.
It’s an hour I have to spend with Ryatt and his head commanders.
My only consolation is that Evander will be with me, and as a fellow in-law in one ring of our enormous family, he understands my pain.
“They’re serving coffee and a light breakfast in Ryatt’s office,” Evander says when I meet him in the hallway just beyond the wing where the family apartments are kept. “It’s casual.”
“Casual,” I chuckle sardonically, glancing up at the tall, coppery-blond hybrid shifter mated to Kenna. I’ve always liked Evander. He’s steely and cold, yes, but he’s the glue between the two sides of the family. I know for a fact he spent his time in the hours after the war ensuring Sydney and Ryan didn’t beat the ever-living fuck out of Cole, which I know Misty is grateful for, as well. He’s wicked smart and kind but wears a mask that screams violence and death if anyone were to cross him, or Goddess forbid, threaten his mate in any way, shape, or form.
“I think you’re getting a medal or something.”
“Oh,” I breathe, rolling my shoulders as he leads me up a staircase. “Well, I was hoping for a trophy, but I guess that’ll do.”
His mouth ticks into the briefest of smiles before returning to a tight line. The air in the hallway becomes extraordinarily thin as we near Ryatt’s office, but I’m sure I’m imagining it. I know I’m not imagining the way my heart begins to beat erratically, however. I’m sweating with nerves when Evander raps on the door, then opens it, stepping into the coffee-scented office of Ryatt, the most powerful man in our kingdom.
Ryatt glances away from the conversation he’s engaged in with two unfamiliar men and gives me a tight nod in acknowledgment before Evander turns me toward a nearby table filled with steaming porcelain carafes and silver platters full of meats, cheeses, eggs, and other breakfast foods. I eye one of the pastries in particular while Evander pours me a cup of coffee, which I accept gratefully, but my stomach is in too tight of a knot to eat.
Instead, I stand beside Evander in the back of the room and glance from face to face. This isn’t a formal meeting by any means. The head Alphas of the Rogueland’s strongest packs are here, as are the three commanders at the head of Ryatt’s army. Somehow, these men are leaning on chairs and talking casually to each other instead of fighting over a map, which is what I imaged this scene would look like in my mind. Instead, they sip coffee, eat pastries, and… laugh with each other.
My gaze sweeps across the room and lands on a man I almost mistake for Ryatt at first glance. He’s just as tall, just as broad in the shoulders, and just as terrifying to look directly in the eyes. A cutting silver gaze holds mine as a man in his late seventies lifts his coffee mug to his lips.
‘That’s Westfall,’ Evander says through the mind-link, raising his mug just a touch in the man’s direction. ‘Ryatt’s dad… my… grandfather-in-law?’
‘I can see the resemblance,’ I reply, swallowing hard as Westfall’s gaze sizes me up. I’ve heard about him. He’s a Shadowsynger, like Ryatt and Kenna. He was the lost prince of Veiled Valley when Eastonia fell to Kane’s leadership. I met Ryatt’s mother, Cressendra, a while ago but only briefly, at Isla and Maddox’s memorial service and the luncheon that followed.
They split their time between Maatua and Veiled Valley from what I understand, but now, I’m wondering why the infamous retired commander is here right now for this… breakfast party.
Before I can process this, Ryatt and his commanders begin to move toward a door off the far wall of his office, and the Alphas follow, everyone carrying on their conversations. I stay close to Evander and notice Westfall falling in line behind us as we enter a large, open room with a circular table at its center.
“So, you’re the famed warrior from the tribal packs,” Westfall says in a voice that sounds so familiar I have to double check that Ryatt’s not the one speaking.
“This is Aviva,” Evander says as we come to stop near the door while everyone else slowly takes their seats. “Ryan’s mate, you know.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Westfall says with a nod before walking to a chair against the wall, where he promptly sits and drinks from his mug, ignoring the conversation at the table.
I stand dumbly beside Evander, wondering if I’m supposed to sit at the table, but Evander isn’t making any moves toward it. In fact, he checks his watch, sighing under his breath, “I’m sure the kids are awake by now.”
“What time is it?”
“Close to eight. Ryatt said he wouldn’t keep us long.”
“What exactly is this meeting about–”
“The highway project is moving forward in both the Roguelands and Tarsian,” Ryatt says over the hum coming from the table. He shoots a sharp look at one of the Alphas. “It’ll be a good thing for your territories, and you know it.”
“So we can have Crescent Falls riffraff spilling into the Roguelands? I think not,” one of the Alphas shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re strapped for warriors as it stands, giving how many men we’ve had to send to Tarsian over the past six month to help smooth their transition into three kingdoms, three new Alpha Kings–”
“And your warriors will return to you before the snow falls, that’s a promise,” Ryatt says curtly, but then his gaze flicks to where Evander and I are still standing, waiting for an invitation to the table. “Commander Evander’s Ghost army will be overseeing the security during the construct of the road between Crescent Falls and Eastonia, through the border of the Roguelands.”
“And what are we going to do to join the two territories? Blast a hole through the mountains?” One of the other Alphas laughs as he leans back in his chair.
“My nephew, Sydney, the Alpha of Shadowcrest and the future Alpha King of Crescent Falls, has some ideas. A railway is the first, bridging the gap between our kingdoms for trade. The road would be built at the same time. Eastonia has lived in the dark for far too long. We need Crescent Falls to bring us into the future.”
“So our people can play on their phones and online… shop?” The third Alpha chuckles, leaning toward his companion, “Is that what’s it called?”
But I’m watching Ryatt as he glances at his father, then at me. Kenna told me about this–how her father’s powers literally make it possible for the Roguelands and Moonrise, and beyond, to have light in their homes. His power protects Eastonia through the use of shields and wards… and he’s getting older. Kenna, as a Shadowsynger, has some of those gifts but not at his magnitude.
I stiffen a bit as Ryatt steers the conversation forward, motioning to me. “Aviva of Endova, everyone.”
The men at the table turn like they just realized I’m here. I pale.
“She’s going to be working with Commander Evander, under his direction, during the construction of the road into the Deadlands.”
“The Deadlands? There can’t be a logical reason why we’d need a connection to the Deadlands. What on Goddess’s green earth could they possibly offer us?”
A pinch of anger ripples through me as I turn toward the Alpha who just spoke. “We saved your asses during the war, if I remember correctly, but then again… I was on the frontlines while the warriors of the Roguelands were running and screaming in the back, looking for anywhere to hide.”
The room goes completely, utterly silent.
Then, Westfall chuckles nearby.
I find it impossible to swallow, but somehow I manage it.
Ryatt smiles at me. “Aviva, I’d like you to meet my commanders. Come, take a seat beside them.”
“Why?” I ask. Stupidly, I might add. My heart races, but my feet stay firmly planted.
I already know what he’s about to say, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it because I can’t say no.
“Because you’re the Commander of the Deadlands, now. Welcome to the table, Aviva.”