Eric marveled at the pink hues of sunrise as they sailed through the sky. “Maybe dawn patrols aren’t so bad,” he said.
Then his stomach lurched as his draconic partner dove.
“Verity!” he yelped, his voice climbing to an octave more befitting
Early morning mist hangs thick over my lake. I feel a disturbance in the waters along the shoreline.
Concentrating my will, I see them. Men with thick beards and heavy boots are pushing a small boat off the shore. Two of them row while
Ivy’s position afforded her a bird’s-eye view of the most popular path to the Metro Silver Line. It was frequented by visitors to Washington, D.C. as well as commuters from the bedroom community of Reston.
People with shiny objects begging to be reclaimed.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” A familiar voice drifted upward.
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Arthur, King of the Britons, lay dying in Merlin’s arms.
The boat creaked around them, its gentle movements a stark contrast to the hellish Camlann battlefield. Arthur’s torso bled profusely, staining his tunic through the hasty bandages Merlin had applied. Mordred’s blade pierced too deep. Even with all his power, Merlin could only
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I’d always been an oddity with my ivory skin, ebony hair, and blood-red lips, but when my father chose a vampyyri—a female descant of the vampires—as his second wife, my appearance became a curse. I wasn’t of the bloodsuckers, but to the outsiders who only knew them through scary tales, I looked like it.
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I sucked in air as the trail wound uphill, sweat pouring down my face and sticking my ponytail to my neck. To my profound irritation, my fae companion did not appear to be suffering nearly as much, even though he hid his wings in
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Moira’s breath fogged the viewing window, her wide eyes staring unblinking, as though in the split second they closed, Isla would disappear once again.
She’d been searching for her sister for months, ever since the night she failed to return to their pod. A missing selkie typically
I slosh through a murky puddle and trudge over another mound of slushy snow, leaving my valenki darkened and damp. But chilled feet are the last of my worries. After all these hours of calling, of tramping through this stretch of Russian forest, I still haven’t found him.
“Father Frost!”
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“Dougal wait! Yer da said we’re not supposed to play on Ben Binn. The fairies won’t like it!” Hamish sprinted after his cousin, the evening air nipping at his face.
“Don’t tell me ya believe in all that
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Aggravain brushed her fingers over the large mirror’s ornate silver frame. If the rumors were true, it would reveal her enemies. With it under her control, she’d be unstoppable, and it’d be worth every drop of blood spilled to obtain it.
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When Bard’s parents named him, they bestowed on him one of the greatest gifts in Valoria. Storytelling. Except that required him to speak in front of a crowd. And for Bard, that was a task as insurmountable as facing a dragon.
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The first thing that struck Rell was the silence. It wasn’t the absence of sound. No. The crowd still breathed, shifted, whispered. But the shape of it. A hollowed silence, like lungs emptied and waiting to be refilled. It gathered around the
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