Aris
Willow is exactly the type of girl Miles, our friend from our early warrior training days, would fall for.
It’s a damn shame she’s all over Roman at the moment.
Miles tilts his pint of beer back and sighs, shaking his head while Roman and Willow stand at the bar across the room. Tate raises a brow, his close cropped black hair catching the dim, flickering neon lights plastered across the wall to our backs.
“What?” Miles gripes, running his fingers through his dark, equally short, hair. Both men are in the Ghost forces, low ranking, low enough that taking several weeks of leave wasn’t that big of a deal.
“Roman’s not interested in her, man. He’d love someone to save him right now.” Tate shrugs, hazel eyes glistening. “Just go talk to her.”
Miles grumbles something incoherent and twists his empty glass in a circle. I roll my eyes to Tate, who shrugs again before sipping his beer.
“She’s staying for a while, according to Roman,” Tate offers. Miles glares.
“She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl Posey would be friends with,” Miles argues.
“Posey met her at Wellington,” I tell them. I’m not sure why I even spoke. Posey going to Wellington had been a huge deal for her family. Farrow hadn’t been happy she was leaving Veiled Valley, which has perfectly fine universities, but Posey was adamant, and Posey, despite her pixie-like size and overall doll-like qualities, is a manipulative little thing. She gets away with everything she wants–always has.
“Speaking of Posey,” Tate grins, blowing out his breath as he leans back. “Damn. She grew up.”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”
Miles glances at Roman before leaning forward with his hands extended away from his chest like he’s holding two melons. “I mean… she grew up.”
“That’s Roman’s little sister.” My warning tone settles in the center of the table, blooming like a death knell. “Don’t let him hear you talking like that.”
Miles and Tate glance at each other and then straighten as Roman approaches the table, carrying our third round with Willow’s help.
She sits between me and Roman, giggling and excusing herself while she squeezes in. Her long, almost black hair nearly reaches her waist, pin straight. She’s hot, I’ll give her that. But she was also just fine leaving her friend behind at the house.
I lose myself in my beer for several minutes and come to just as she says, “I studied communications. I’m starting a job at a local news place in Crescent Falls this fall.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, beaming. A million-dollar smile. “I’ll be a nightly news anchor.”
“You met Posey in school, right?” It’s Tate asking. I throw him a look, and he throws one back before turning his eyes to Willow, his brow raised.
“Oh, yeah, we were roommates our final year at Wellington. She’s the absolute best! I love her sooo much. I really do. There’s no one as smart or as kind as Posey.” She takes a deep drink from some fruity cocktail before continuing. “She’s so studious. I could never get her to go out with me, but when I told her I was taking a road trip around Eastonia this summer, she offered to let me stay with her in Veiled Valley for a while and then Roman–” She nudges him, batting her eyelashes, “Invited her to the lake, and I couldn’t let her turn down the offer.”
“So this is your first time in Eastonia?” Miles finally gets the nerve to speak. He seems about ready to throw up when she looks at him with a smile bright enough to light the night sky.
“Yeah! It’s been amazing! So old. Like, seriously, the oldest place I’ve ever seen in my life.” Her giggle turns heads from across the room. “Aris, you’re like, the queen’s cousin, aren’t you?”
Roman purses his lips.
“Maeve is my little sister.”
“Oh, my Goddess! I would totally love to meet her.”
I blink, then shake my head, giving her a polite but slightly dismissive smile. “That’s practically impossible. Maeve is rather busy at the moment.”
“Oh,” Willow says, nodding viciously. “I bet. The fae thing, right?”
The fae thing. I can’t totally fault her for her ignorance. The people of Crescent Falls were generally unaffected by the acts of Hannibal, the Viper, and everything that happened and is still happening between Eastonia and Pantharas. Maeve has been hosting summits for months now, and Emberfyll has become an allied base where the new fae leaders and leaders from our kingdom can meet peacefully without the need to step onto each other’s soil. It hasn’t even been a year since everything happened. Nothing feels certain. Peace doesn’t feel certain… yet.
But I’m not here to talk or even think about politics.
When I don’t answer immediately, the conversation moves on without me. I finish my drink and rise to fetch another, wanting a buzz before shifting with the group tonight ,but my body angles toward the door with something else in mind.
“Do you need anything from the house?” I ask Roman when he follows me to the bar. He orders another drink, but I pay the tab for the group, wincing at the price.
“Uh, no, I don’t think so. Why? Are you going back?”
“Just for a minute. I want to lay out some clothes in the event anyone goes out to shift and ruins what they’re currently wearing.” I take my card back and tuck it intp my wallet. I’m sure Grandpa Ryatt is fully aware of my spending habits, but I think he understands I get a pass this summer… I hope. He seemed pleased, at least, when I told him my plans, but I assume he expects me to come home and take more interest in my Shadowsynger duties, which are bound to double, or triple, in the coming years.
“Check on Posey for me?” Roman brings his drink to his lips.
I shrug, nodding, and quickly leave the slightly rundown bar right on the edge of the lake. It’s only a half mile from the house, which used to belong to an Alpha. This whole area–the house, the village–is ancient, but a new community has risen from its ashes. Now, the entirety of Gem Lake–a system of lakes that feed into each other, creating islands and causeways–is home to at least six different packs and a variety of villages like this one, most catering to tourists. Neon lights reflect off the water where boats and small yachts bob at both private and public docks. Lake houses rise through the trees, most modern new-builds. The house I rented is one of the last standing from an era before the veil fell.
I bought it. I used nearly my entire inheritance to do so. I’m not sure why, but the moment I saw it, I just knew it was mine.
So I took it.
The Gem Lake district is still part of the Kingdom of Veiled Valley but a hundred miles away from Veiled Valley, the capital, where my family lives. Where I live. The river separates the two areas, and it's a long, winding journey to get here that includes a ferry and at least an hour or more, depending on the weather, of driving. The magic of Veiled Valley is still thick in the air when I round a corner, and the gravel begins to fade from a deep rust brown to glimmers of white, and the house comes into view.
Only a few interior lights are on.
I take a step past the gate and catch an unfamiliar scent that immediately riles my senses. It’s not totally foreign, which makes me nervous. I pause between the columns, the gate open, just like we left it, the driveway stretching out before me under the glow of the full moon, white gravel sparkling like fallen stars.
There’re small critters all over Gem Lake, but this scent isn’t something natural. Shifters carry an underlying human scent, and that’s exactly what I’m picking up as I take a tentative step forward, then stop.
It’s a fox. Undoubtedly.
A fox shifter.
“Fuck me,” I snarl, scanning the area.
Fox shifters are more than rare. They’re nearly impossible. Well, there are a few exceptions, and one of them is my grandmother, Amanda, the only known fox shifter in our entire world, as far as we’ve been able to gather. It’s a rare recessive gene that sometimes makes its presence known in Alpha bloodlines. Fox shifters, in our lore and history, are notoriously violent, cunning, and mischievous and shouldn’t be fucked with.
I’d know because I am one.
I have the ability to shift into a fox, at least. I have both forms, just like my dad, Evander. The public is still wary of any shifters who aren’t wolves, and even with three foxes in my own family, the royals have kept it a secret–with good reason.
Wolves love to hunt foxes. Foxes are considered evil, an act against the Goddess. Even my royal status wouldn’t be enough to sway public opinion the other way.
Now, there’s one here somewhere. Or there was. The scent is so faint I quickly lose it.
Unnerved, I enter the house, resisting the urge to sweep through every room and closet, but the scent doesn’t carry inside.
I find Posey on her bed, sitting criss-cross with a half-moon circle of textbooks around her and several notebooks, papers scattered across the bedspread. She looks up as I throw open the door. “What?”
“Are you good?” I step into the room, glancing around. “No one came into the house, right?”
She’s wearing massive tortoiseshell glasses with impossibly thick lenses that make her eyes look three sizes bigger than they normally are. The smell of cherries and amber shampoo hangs heavy between us, and I notice her hair is damp, loose waves piled on the top of her head and pinned back with a clip. She blinks, tilting her head. “No. I’m the only one here. Why?”
I step deeper into the room, crossing my arms over my chest with a sigh. “Nothing. Just being paranoid.”
“I think you get a pass in that department after everything that happened last year.” She exhales deeply and takes off her glasses, massaging the bridge of her nose. “How are you doing?”
“Me?” No one asks me that. I barely fought in the small skirmishes that littered the Roguelands when the Viper had power. I wasn’t in Teshka when an entire regiment of royal warriors was slaughtered, and Lexa was taken. I didn’t go to Pantharas with Dad’s Ghost forces and Tarsian’s navy. I stayed here, in Veiled Valley. Doing what Shadowsyngers do… a whole lot of nothing. Talking to apparitions and shit. Playing with my shadows when I desperately needed entertainment.
“I’m doing fine.” I think it’s the truth. I ignore the unsettling feeling gripping my chest and scan her bedspread, noting the heavy textbooks and notebook pages covered in religious symbolism. “What are you doing?”
“Studying,” she replies pointedly.
“You came all this way to do this all summer?”
“I’m not–this is just–” she waves a hand at the mess before gingerly gathering the loose pages and closing the textbooks. “I have an exam coming up in a few weeks. All I needed to do tonight was make some kind of studying schedule for the summer, but I got a little carried away.”
A bright pink blush creeps over her cheeks and down her neck, flaring over the curve of her… yeah, very large breasts. Miles wasn’t that far off with his crude description. I look away. This is Posey. She’s beautiful, sure, but I’ve known her since we were kids, and we’re… friends. At least, I’ve always considered her a friend.
I’m sure to her, I’m more of a bully. Maybe. Hopefully, a bit of both.
“What are you studying?”
“It’ll bore you to death. Shouldn’t you be out tonight? I thought you all were going shifting and exploring the islands?”
“We are, but everyone is at the bar as it stands, trying to catch up with me.” I brace my hands against the mattress, leaning over the bed to scan the titles of the textbooks before she stacks them. “Theology?”
She ignores me, saying under her breath, “You don’t seem drunk to me at all.”
“I’m a master of my craft,” I tease, and her bright green eyes meet mine. “I’m going to join them again, but I wanted to check in and make sure you weren’t getting into trouble on your own.”
“What trouble would I get into, Aris?”
“Nothing without me, I hope.”
She gives me the smallest curve of her lips in lieu of a smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile with teeth. One day, I will. I’ll make it my mission this summer to make her laugh. What a challenge that’ll be.
“Go back to your wolfish games, Aris. I’m going to bed.” She slides off the mattress in nothing but shorts and a light, fluffy cardigan covering her gray tank top. She sets the massive stack of textbooks on the dresser with a thud before padding back in my direction, her hands resting on her hips.
“Why not come out with us? It’s a full moon, Posey. It’s the best time to shift. You’ll feel–”
“I’ll feel nothing, Aris. iI doesn’t affect me.”
“The full moon affects everyone.”
“I’m a lapse.” She looks up at me, curling her arms around her middle like she’s shielding herself from view. “I thought you knew.”
I haven’t heard that term used in years. It’s considered derogatory. “What–what do you mean?”
“I don’t have a wolf. I never developed the gifts.” She shrugs. “I can’t shift into a wolf, Aris. That’s all it is. The full moon means nothing to me.” She turns toward the bed, squeezing her eyes shut. “Please, just… don’t make a big deal out of it, okay? I’m the daughter of an Alpha. Something like me–it looks bad for our family.”