He settled down in a chair placed outside the cell. The two fell into a natural rhythm of conversation, as if the past few years had never happened. They spoke of their time on quests, of their moments at school, of the people they had known. Desmond felt himself go back twenty years, to a time when Reynolds filled him with hope and when nothing was too big of mountain for them to tackle.
The path ahead was clear for him, but he knew it was only because of the moments that were difficult that he could walk it. It had taken forty years to get the courage to walk away with Mariah, and it was because his courage had been tested so many times before. He didn't fear what was to come, for everything behind him had been fearful enough.
And despite having not taken Reynolds through to the tests, he felt he had succeeded with him. For despite the darkness, the past, his former Tiro still had strength within him, and still saw that he could live beyond all of this. He had taught him that. He had taught all of them that. Broken Christa, after the death of her Maestro, Nathaniel in the face of anxiety, Sienna in her daily struggles. And they had taught him patience and hope. They had taught him how to live.
There was a life beyond the magic, and he was eager to live it.
Epilogue
“Did you translate all of those?” Eliza asked in surprise Sienna had only been working for her 10 months, but it seemed that she learned a new language every week.
The former witch smiled as she handed her the tablet. “I did,” she said. “Some of them may be a bit shaky, but they are fine for the purposes you use. If that's all, my Queen…”
“It is all,” Eliza replied. “Baroness.”
Sienna blushed at the rank Eliza had given her. “It's Devon's birthday,” she said. “So we'll be off for the evening?”
“Of course,” the Queen replied. “It will be a relaxing…”
Just as she was finishing her sentence, the doors to the palace flew open and Jonah burst in.
The captain of the guards was normally cool and collected, but at the moment, his eyes were wild.
“Your highness,” he said. “The rebel forces are marching on us.”
Eliza's eyes hardened.
“Then attack. I won their throne here on Natrine. They need to accept that. Teach them a lesson.”
“No,” Jonah said. “They've had help. There're three outer rim planets that have come to their aid.”
“What?” Eliza asked. “Who allowed this?”
“Your highness, they took us by surprise,” Jonah said. “But regardless of semantics, we are currently outnumbered. You need to call Jeffro's forces, but we will need more back-up then that.”
“This is treason,” Eliza growled. Sienna, however, put a hand on her shoulder, calm.
“You took the throne,” she said. “The witches defend the thrones at all costs, as natural leaders must be protected.”
Eliza held her gaze.
“Will they send us aid?”
“Yes,” Sienna replied. “I believe they will.”
“Then call for it,” Eliza said. “Jonah, call the Jeffro forces. As many as we can spare.”
“My concern, your highness, is that if Jeffro is left half-defenseless, they will storm on there, as well.”
“No,” Eliza was defiant “We will defend both fronts. Call the witches now, Sienna. Ask for aid.”
“Aye,” Sienna nearly dropped the tablet and headed out of the large marble hall.
Devon was waiting just outside the door, expecting her to be finished work. Their life together on Natrine was much different from the rigid life the Order had demanded of them. Eliza was a kind mistress, expecting the work to be done when it was due and not much more. Sienna found herself happy, light and free. With her magic blocked, she was finally able to see what life was beyond the Order. With Devon's hand almost constantly in hers, she thought it was beautiful.
Today, though, her eyes were wide with panic.
“I need to call Nathaniel,” she said, as they ducked into a quiet corner. “We're under attack.”
“Mm,” Devon answered. “Somehow, I knew this day would come.”
“So did I,” she said. “We'll be flooded with witches in a few days. It's odd, this is the warrior excitement I always wanted. And now that it's here...”
“Now that it's here, you realize you are happy with your other path,” Devon answered. “Regardless, it will be nice to see our friends. I can call Laura, if you like.”
“Probably needed,” Sienna said, as she dialed through.
Nathaniel looked tired when he answered, his lighting dim. She could make out that he was at the school, in his room, and it was early morning. She hadn't thought about the time change.
“Maestro,” she said. “The day has come.”
“Oy,” Nathaniel replied, sitting up a bit more. “Do you need us to come now?”
“I do,” she said. “You and your Tiro. I'm going to put quest bids up. We'll need several teams.”
“We're ready,” Nathaniel replied. “Prada is stronger than any Tiro here. We will protect you.”
She remembered the days that he said that about her, and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Just stay safe,” he replied, and she sensed a grin in the darkness.
“Nathaniel…are you…excited?”
“I am a warrior after all, little one,” he said, as his tablet jiggled with him getting up. “And you always wanted to see me in action.”
“I did,” she answered. “I'm going to put a few calls out. Let me know if there's anything else I can do.”
“Look at us,” he replied. “Working together on intergalactic quests. Did you ever think that would happen again?”
She smiled.
“I didn't,” she said. “But we've found a way.”
“There's always a way,” Nathaniel said, “if you believe. I'll see you soon.”
“Bye,” she hung up, passing the tablet to Devon to call Laura. Despite the oncoming danger, Devon grinned at her.
“Well, this is exciting,” he said, as he keyed in Laura's number.
“It is,” Sienna drew her knees up as she perched on the window seat. “And I'm ready for it.”
“We're together,” he said. “We're ready for anything. And with you here, we can call in teams in any language. You're magic.”
His choice of words made her smile. “I didn't use to think I was,” she replied. “Not until you made me feel differently.”
“So, my love,” he said, as the call began to ring. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”
“I am,” she said, as Laura picked up. Like everything in life, it wasn't going to be easy. A year ago, she couldn't believe that she ever would have been happy with this reality. But today, with Devon by her side, and her skills sharp and making a different, she felt happy, and strong. It had taken walking away from her once dream, and from magic, to make her feel like she was indestructible
There was always another path, and she was so glad that she had found it.
***THE END***
White Star (Wolves of West Valley Book 1) Preview
Chapter One
Flying was always the worst part of her job.
Willow leaned her head against the tiny cabin window and, for the eightieth time since she had become airborne, willed herself to fall asleep. Her breath gathered on the glass, letting the vast forest beneath the jet look covered in fog. The town was so small they didn't even have full planes that made the trip out. She was stuck on a twenty-passenger jet, cramped and feeling more and more claustrophobic.
She had a good job; she knew that.
It was easy enough: just go to a resort, let them know she was there to review it, and then sit back and enjoy the special treatment she'd receive. She was always honest in her reviews, always clear in her experience…always bored.
Soft towels and charcoal skin cleanses weren't what she went to school for. It wa
s nice to feel pampered, nice to be allowed to enjoy the finer things, but it left her not knowing anything but spas. Not getting to really lavish in the treatments since she hadn't worked hard to earn them.
She wanted to use her brain.
Usually.
At the moment, though, she was trying her hardest to shut it off.
A child in the row behind her had the volume on his phone up while he was playing games. The old woman in the seat beside her was going on about how she wanted to go to the casino because she hadn't been to one in thirty years. The flight attendants in the galley a few rows back kept laughing and joking while ducking back there between drink refill trips.
It was killing her.
Willow pulled her sleep mask out of her bag and slid it over her eyes, making a mental note to pack earplugs next time. She made lists to make sleep come more easily. Sometimes it worked, other times it left her with a complete mental list of every city she'd ever been to, and nothing to do with that information.
She had to review at least ten parts of the hotel and spa, had to interview the owner and one 'randomly selected employee' (which was usually hand chosen by the owner), and had to take a set of photos herself to show off.
She started trying to think of catchy lines to go with the town's name – puns usually had the best response. Useless options filled in one after another, and finally her brain started to slow down and stutter. Her eyes relaxed behind the soft black cover of the sleep mask. Her breath slowed.
Sleep began to sweep over her like a warm blanket.
"Hello again, Ladies and Gentlemen. We're now preparing for our landing," the captain interrupted through the small jet's speaker system.
Of course.
Willow sighed, only slightly embarrassed that she was upset for going to a spa. Only she'd get upset over getting to live a pampered life and be paid to do it.
Removing her mask, she stared down the window over the small speck of a town they were approaching. The town spread out in a circle beneath them, like the trunk of an ancient tree split open beneath her.
Suddenly, she wasn't tired.
Suddenly, she wasn't restless.
Her heart sped just at the view of the town, something she didn't expect. Just setting eyes on it felt right to her, looked right to her. Willow shoved her mask and half-read book into her bag and tensed up as the wheels of the plane finally touched down.
"We've now landed in West Valley. Welcome back to those that are from here. If this is your first time, we hope you'll enjoy your stay here."
***
West Valley looked and felt like the kind of town that only existed for tourists. The air was just starting to thaw from the long winter, and travel season reared its ugly head. Three main roads built up the busiest parts of the town. On them was every important building – police station and town official's offices, and also every store imaginable. Housing and apartments radiated around these streets like a spiral.
Her ride-share apps left her empty handed, and so instead she was in the back of a local taxi. The advertisement and number for the cab company were hand painted on the door. If she had come across this car in a city she wouldn't even look in its general direction, much less get in it and pay to go anywhere. The inside had the cloying stench of too many different air fresheners used over the years. It left the air almost chalky.
She asked for the scenic route because despite her disgust at the ride, something about the town was calling her, and she wanted to know what.
The town was disappointing, though.
Almost half of the shops weren't open yet, their owners probably out of town from the harsh cold. West Valley was just on the line of too-much kitsch, where playful quirkiness collided with being a tacky eyesore.
Wolf and rabbit sculptures decorated the town, made of wood or metal, their eyes all painted a similar green to the deep forests that surrounded the town. The rabbit sculptures were almost always being eaten, laying the reality of nature out in the open.
A couple of the sculptures were too much, too creepy, and Willow had to beg to ask her driver to stop so she could snag photos of them. It wasn't anything she could use in her review of the resort, but something about them held her attention. Not many towns or cities laid out the brutality of nature so plainly in view for everyone.
Finally, they made their way to her destination, the cab driver not seeming to mind that she was taking up so much of his time. The spa and hotel were in the center of the town, nestled right next to an expansive, black lake. The water looked like a large, polished stone.
"Thank you," Willow said as she nodded to the cab driver and he handed over her bags. She tipped him, feeling guilty for making him stop every couple of miles, and prepared herself.
It was always the same.
In order to get a good review, resorts would treat her like royalty. They'd say they treat every guest the same way as they usher her to the front of the line ahead of the others. It left her feeling pampered, but still a bit sleazy for not knowing how regular guests were treated. She could never give a completely honest review.
Willow pulled out her phone and took a couple pictures of the resort itself, with its shimmering glass and red stone. It didn't fit the rest of the folksy town. It was modern and sleek, and stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Miss Royd! We were hoping to pick you up at the airport. I'm so sorry," a short older man bumbled out, apologizing. He looked sweaty and flustered. "I'm Leon Edwin. I own The Grand West," he explained, motioning to the resort.
"Nice to meet you. You can call me Willow," she replied without thought. He offered his hand to her, and she unwillingly took it and shook. His fingers were greasy, she couldn't help but wonder what he was stressing about. Usually, the owners weren't so flustered when they'd meet her.
"Is there a problem?" she couldn't help a slight smile that traced across her lips.
"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head and smoothing out his shirt. "I had been working out and took the stairs down from the fourth floor is all," he answered. His words felt like a lie, but Willow didn't question him any further. "Can I take you on a tour of The Grand West once you're settled?" he asked. Willow was starting to wonder if he used the resort's full name every time he referred to it. A walking-talking billboard.
"I'd love that."
"Good, good. Come in and we'll get you your room first then," he said briskly, holding open the door for her.
As slimy and sweaty of a man as Leon was, the resort was gorgeous.
By the time he'd shown her around and offered her a drink four times, Willow was glad to be free of him. She collapsed back on her bed and sighed. This wasn't a real job. This wasn't journalism. She'd rather be an editor for the site instead, able to at least oversee projects than have to be flirted with by business owners dying for a good review.
The resort had seemed empty, though, so she could see why they were desperate to impress. She'd only seen six employees, and each seemed stressed and overworked. It was a bit of a drawback to see what cost her relaxation was on other people.
Pulling out her laptop, Willow pulled up a couple local news sites, dying for anything of interest she could do outside of the resort. She wasn't going to spend her entire week being followed around by a sweaty older man.
She needed something new.
Chapter Two
He was dead.
He was fucking dead, and there was nothing that could be done about it. The fifth in the last year, and the last of the Lycaon line that was in West Valley.
Carter slammed the door of his car closed and stared angrily through the windshield. What good was he anymore? Along with his brother, his job was to protect the ruling line and to make sure they could properly lead the pack to prosperity.
The Pack.
It didn't even have a proper name anymore. It had gone through a new one with each Alpha, and now lay nameless. Not that any of the names got to stick for lon
g. They'd pass on the title of Alpha to the next in line, and then that one would vanish like the others had.
Carter almost began to hope that it was because of the Alphas being cowards. He imagined them running off to join or start another pack, somewhere safer for them, where they wouldn't have to fear being taken away. At least that would free him from the guilt of knowing he'd failed again.
He knew better.
When an Alpha is alive in an area, you know it.
Their smell is distinct, traced back thousands of years, to a table that had nothing but deceit on it. Any other shifter, as wolf-like and as true to their nature as they could be, was just a diluted substitute.
If you weren't from the Lycaon line you couldn't be an Alpha.
Not that many of the Alphas out there anymore deserved the title.
Carter's hands tightened their grip on his steering wheel out of guilt at the thought. It didn't matter who deserved to be an Alpha – nobody really did.
The bloodline declared the ruler, and had done so for too many generations to count.
There was no changing it.
He turned the key in the ignition, firing up his car and forcing him to go to work. He wasn't looking forward to today.
Every wolf in the pack took yesterday off to mourn.
A year before, hell even six months before, they had taken a week off when an Alpha died. Some would take an entire month off, the grief too striking.
Now it was commonplace.
The shifters couldn't afford to leave their job as often as the Alphas kept dying off…or rather, vanishing.
The forest pulled past him in a blur, and he wished he was still in it. He wished he didn't have to face the world like this, knowing his failure.
Carter had to work, had to have a job. It wasn't his fault he couldn't be at the Alpha's side every minute of every day. He needed to be able to eat, to survive, and he didn't want to have to rely on the pack for those.
When his brother was around, it was easier. They could split shifts, each taking watch while the other would work or sleep. They were like night and day and stayed in sync.
Searching for Home (Wolves of West Valley Book 2) Page 65