ANNE MARIE’S POV:
The royal garden of our Blue Moon pack lands is just a bunch of overgrown jasmine and moonlit hedges that Sienna and I use to dodge our lessons. We aren't kids playing tag anymore; we are almost eighteen. Tomorrow is the ceremony that wakes the wolves within us, but tonight is just one last run. The silk of my dress rubs against my thighs and sticks to my skin. My bare feet slap the warm stone and my lungs burn.
"C'mon, old woman. You can't catch up…?" Sienna yells over her shoulder.
I lunge forward. My fingertips brush her slippery fabric before she twists away.
"Who are you calling old? Miss born-one-minute before..."
"Slowpoke!" She cuts me off.
I pant, and the scent of jasmine is so thick it feels like it is coating my throat. It mixes with the smell of salt and sweat coming off our skin.
"Mate." The word comes from inside me. My wolf is nameless and restless; she scrapes her claws against my ribs.
I don't buy it. Mate? We aren't of age. Plus, it is just me and my cousin out here.
Sienna grins, keeping her lead. "You'll never catch..."
"Oh, I'll catch you," I growl.
I push harder. The train of my dress drags in the dirt; it slows me down. She is the Alpha King's daughter and I am just Beta-born, his brother’s kid. That is how the blood works. I stretch my arm and graze her shoulder, then darkness hits.
The garden is gone. The smell of flowers and the sound of Sienna's laugh vanishes. It is just cold and dark.
"Cee-Cee?" My voice sounds small but echoes.
No answer. Just him.
His voice is rough and low in my head: "Anne Marie, my love, don't ever forget. Remember me, please?"
I know that voice. Mr. Marcus Walker. He is an Alpha-blooded elite from the hive pack. I shouldn't hear him in my head, yet his words feel like they are carving into my bones.
My wolf whines.
"Mate," she insists.
That is madness. He is an ally of the people who destroyed my family. And I am merely an...
— ♡ ♡ ♡ —
"Anne Marie, wake up, dear."
That voice pulls me out of a dream where Marcus tells me he will always love me. He calls me bean sprout. My father used to call me that name before Marcus and Patrick locked him away in Wolf Springs Shifter Penitentiary.
My eyes open. Moonlight hits the floor and Sienna is twisting in her sheets. She moans. The room smells like vanilla and spice. Her signature scent. It is a thick, heavy scent that makes my head ache. Nix, my wolf, snarls in my mind.
"Dreams aren't just dreams. They can be visions," she says. "The Moon Goddess speaks through..."
"Stop it," I mutter.
This is the fifth night of these dreams about Marcus Walker and Patrick Greyson. Now Sienna is having some kind of fantasy. Her hips arch. I feel a pulse between my own legs. It is a dull, throbbing heat.
"What is happening to Sienna?" I ask Nix. "Why does she dream of Greyson, and why do I see him..." (Walker)
"I don't know, Annie," Nix says. "But you two are bound to these men. Meant for..."
Sienna gasps. Her fingers move between her thighs while she sleeps. The smell of vanilla and spice gets stronger. It makes my own clit throb. Nix paces in my skull, her claws scraping against my bone.
"How can fate tie us to men we barely know?" I ask.
Nix growls. "Unless… it’s a true mate bond. One that was erased. Or..." she pauses. "Yes. I know what this..."
"What?" I snap.
Nix is pacing like a caged animal in my mindspace. She is picking up fragments from the Moon Goddess and Jinx (Sienna’s wolf).
"Fates Re-Aligned!" Nix shouts. My breath hitches. "Even if Marcus never bit you, your bones know his scent. Your threads were cut and re-knotted by..."
I shake my head. It feels like a riddle.
"Think," she says. "You don't really know Walker very well. Sienna doesn't really know Greyson. Yet you are star-crossed. Meant to be, no matter how..."
"Star-crossed? What are you..."
I kick off my silk sheets. The hardwood is cold on my feet. I basically float over to the window with my wolf-speed. I press my palms against the windowpane and look down at the courtyard of the Timmons-Von-Dracula estate. It is a gilded prison we’re stuck in. The iron gates glint under the security lights.
"You and Jinx hear the Moon Goddess," I mutter. I dig my fingers into the windowsill. A splinter bites into my skin. "But this is rare. Are you..."
"Yes," Nix says, cutting me off. "I’m sure of it. Someone altered our destinies. But our hearts..."
Her words squeeze at my ribs. I touch my throat. There is a phantom ache where I know Marcus's teeth should have been.
"But why?" I ask. My skin feels feverish. I can smell my own syrupy arousal seeping from it.
"They molded your destinies like clay, Annie," Nix says. "Smoothed over the cracks where your souls once fitted together like puzzle pieces..."
"Why would anyone do this to us?" I press my forehead to the chilled glass. "What do they gain from such a spell...?"
The courtyard is empty. I can smell oak and winter mint from Marcus's patrol. He sends his security team to guard this place like it is Fort Knox. Nix growls.
I think of Marcus. Those gray-blue eyes. That chiseled face. The way his wolf, Onyx, always flickers behind his gaze at me. It is forbidden and yet he always does it.
"It can't be," I murmur. I rub the smooth skin of my neck. "Marcus of all people? The one who tore my family...?"
"Not all may be as it seems," Nix says. "Fate stitches its own patterns. Hearts know their own truths, even when all else fails..."
The idea of Marcus or Patrick being anything other than enemies to us is a joke. They slaughtered our pack.
"Nix," I say. "If they were meant to be ours, why did they kill our people? Imprison our..."
"Anne Marie," she says. "Maybe they would never have raised a claw to the Blue Moon pack if they had scented you and Cee-Cee as theirs before it..."
"So love would have stopped them?" I asked, interrupting her.
Nix nuzzles my thoughts. "Fate doesn't ask permission. Love doesn't obey some made up laws."
I look at Sienna. She is peaceful now. I slip back under my covers. The air is cold. Nix curls beside me in my psyche.
"Jinx and I will seek more answers," she says. "But perhaps all the Moon Goddess wishes to reveal is all we’ll get to know for now..."
My thighs press together. The dreams of him flashes before my eyes.
"Sleep," Nix purrs. "The Moon Goddess speaks to those who listen..."
My eyes close despite the ache in my abdomen. Marcus’s scent clings to the air; it smells like old spice and a coming storm, thick enough to make Nix whimper in my head as she settles.
Sleep doesn't last. Morning comes too fast, ripped away by Sienna’s scream.
"Patrick!" she shrieks. Her voice is heavy with heat. Panic claws at my throat.
The smell of her arousal thickens (vanilla and linen mixed with spiced musk). Then I feel it; the shift in the air, a cold prickle on my skin that means the Timmons-Von-Draculas are awake.
My heart stutters. Vampires are light sleepers. If they hear her, they'll be here in seconds to demand answers about dreams they hate. They are our owners; they don't tolerate this.
I don't get their obsession with our dreams. It's why Sienna and I keep them hidden. We fear what they'll do if they know how often we dream now. Nix jolts awake. Her eyes flare like hot coals in the dark.
"Anne Marie, we must wake her before it's..." her voice rumbles through my skull.
I leap from my bed to Sienna's. My heart pounds against my ribs. She is thrashing between sweat-damp sheets, her mocha skin flushed bright under the rising sun.
The air smells of vanilla and that winter pine musk of Dr. Greyson; it scent-marks her like a brand. He isn't even here. She arches with a broken whimper, his name spilling from her lips. I press my hand over her mouth.
"Sienna," I hiss, shaking her hard enough to make her teeth click.
Her eyes snap open. Jinx, her wolf, snarls low in her throat. I slip my palm away; it is damp from her breath.
"You're dreaming again," I warn.
Sienna’s green-blue eyes widen. The smell of her slick hangs between us, mixed with Patrick's pine musk.
"Oh, Anne Marie," she says, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to... to dream..."
The early sun hits the wetness between her thighs. I don't need wolf senses to see how soaked she is. My own body throbs. Nix lets out a possessive growl.
"It's okay, Sienna," I murmur. I glance toward the door. "But we have to be quieter. Unless you want the vampires to hear you screaming Greyson's name like a bitch in heat..."
"I know, Annie. They don't seem to like it when we..." she says. Her eyes gleam with worry. "I don't even know why I keep dreaming of him."
"Me neither, Cee-Cee. I dreamt of Marcus again, but your moans woke me first," I growl. I lean in until my breath stirs the wild curls on her neck. Her pulse jumps fast. "Sounded like you were taking his knot."
I smirk. She bolts upright.
"Now that's just pure evil," she gasps, running a hand through her hair. "You can be such…"
"A meanie," I wink, finishing before she could. Her typical name (meanie) for me when I tease about boys.
"I'm so sorry, Annie," she says, dropping her head. "You don't think they heard..."
"No, they would've been here by now," I lie. The words taste bitter. There were stirrings earlier.
The vampires can smell things like this from three floors down. I dig my fingers into her mattress, my claws (out of my control) pricking the fabric. Nix snarls inside me: "Liar. Coward. Tell her the truth."
"And no one came to our room last night," I add. My nails shift back from claws as I take back control from Nix; the slight pain anchors me.
The sharp citrus of Sienna's fear cuts through her vanilla.
"But if they come here and catch us like this..." my voice breaks.
Sienna swings her legs over the edge. Her nightgown clings to her damp thighs. She reeks of heat and musk. My own wolf stirs like a sex-starved fool.
"What if they already know? But just didn't come to our room? And then, question us later..." Sienna says, her breath hitching. "It's happened before."
Her pulse flutters. I inhale; her scent has deepened. Any male wolf would smell her she-heat from miles off.
"They might suspect it," I admit, running my fingers through her tangled hair. Marcus’ phantom grip still burns my hips from the dream (a night before). "But we deny it. We don't have to tell them a thing."
Sienna nods. Then her eyes widen.
"Yeah, but Annie... what if they bring that witch..." she says. Ice runs down my spine. "She'll know we're lying. She did..."
"Before." I whimper.
And she's right. That coven bitch slithered past our defenses last time like silver chains around our throats. My claws prick into my palms.
I bolt upright and pace. The light bulb in my brain goes off. Then I remember asking Nix why last night.
"Oh, my goddess... that's it!" The realization hits me. "The witch! Maybe she did this to us. She spelled us..."
Sienna tilts her head.
"To do what? Make us dream about being in love with those two assholes who ruined..." her voice cracks, loud. She slaps a hand over her mouth.
The gold in her pupils flares. The smell of her panic is metallic and sour, mingling with Patrick's musk.
"No. Not quite," I whisper, pacing in circles. "Nix told me something disturbing last night."
"Like what...?" she barely whispers, twisting the damp sheets.
I ignore the way Nix prowls beneath my skin.
"She told me her and Jinx have been talking again." I keep my voice steady. "And not just idle chatter. They're remembering..."
"Remembering...?" she cuts in. Her pupils flash gold-green. I taste her fear. "Remembering what?"
Nix snarls. I can still feel the ghost of Marcus' grip on me.
"Things the Moon Goddess has been telling them. Secrets. Our secrets. Again and again," I murmur.
Marcus’ scent clings to me too; spice and storm, wafting into the air.
"But why? About what this time..." Sienna asks. "They only seek her guidance when..."
"Yes. Something isn't quite right," I finish. My pulse hammers in my throat. "Sienna, Nix and Jinx think our fates were... re-aligned."
"Re-aligned...?" her voice cracks.
"Yes. To make us omegas." The words taste bitter. I pace on the cold hardwood. "To strip us. To own us. I think..."
"They stole our royalty? To own us… But we're Blue Mooners. Our destinies are written in the stars, not their la..." her voice splinters.
Tears stain her cheeks. She covers her mouth with one hand. Salt cuts through the musk of Patrick. My thighs clench as I remember Marcus' fangs in my dream.
"You're right. But what if hive pack laws are being used to rewrite us... rewrite our lives..." I propose. I press my palms against the frosted window. "Think about it. The Moon Goddess doesn't get shit wrong. But hive pack laws? Those are just ink and arrogance." I rush back over and sit beside her. "They’re always wrong."
"But, Annie?" Sienna's voice trembles. She's doubtful. Patrick's scent is heavy again.
"Nix said even if someone tried to change our paths, love would burn through it. Something about being 'star-crossed'..." I watch her chest rise. "She said Mr. Walker was always meant to be mine. Dr. Greyson... yours. Our pairings will always stand the test of time..."
"Star-crossed? And that's why we dream of them…" she narrows her eyes.
"Yes. Because the heart wants what it wants. I guess. That's what star-crossed lovers do..." I snap. I'm up again, moving back and forth on the floorboards. "What if they'd found us before they attacked our pack? Would they have gutted us like..."
Sienna gasps, shivering and it catches me off guard. I don't even finish my thought. The revelation hits her too. And it's shocking.
"No. They would've loved us..." she says. "Avoided attacking us... The mate bond would have made it… difficult."
I stop walking. Nix snarls in my head: "Liar, thief. That witch and her spells. She did this." Her growl vibrates under my pulse. Sienna’s still teary-eyed but no longer doubtful looking.
"And maybe our love could’ve saved our people," I say. The words feel like grit on my tongue.
Sienna smells of salt and vanilla as she leans in. Her heart thumps against my shoulder while I sit down. My skin stings where Marcus should have bitten me. He should have marked me; but things obviously didn't go as planned.
Sienna shudders. She looks like she just saw a ghost.
"That makes perfect sense. Jinx and Nix’s theory," she says. Her eyes are wide. "Last night, I dreamt I knew Patrick. As if we grew up with him and Marcus in our lives. But in reality, this reality... it never happened."
She smells of vanilla cream and old linen mixed with something heavy. Desperation (and Patrick, of course). It feels like a hollow space under my ribs.
"What’d you mean?" I ask. "How did we grow up knowing them?"
I squint, trying to remember; nothing comes to mind.
"Annie, they were like friends, like family to our fathers. They watched us grow up. We fell in love with them. I was on the porch of our farmhouse with him. Patrick got jealous when I suggested we find princes to marry. At our coming of age ceremony." Sienna’s words hit me. "He wanted me for himself and you for his brother."
My breath hitches. I know that porch. I feel the rough wood under my bare feet now and smell the wild rosemary mixed with Marcus’s cedar and pine scent.
Nix snarls inside me.
"The lies taste like ash," she growls. "But these? These are true memories. They taste sweet."
Someone is lying. Now that Sienna mentions it, the images are clear. It has to be that spell.
"My goddess, that’s strange. Last night I dreamt we were running through the garden one last time before the ceremony," I say. The image flickers. "I caught you, then you vanished. Everything went black, but his voice kept speaking to me. Pleading..."
"Who? Marcus?" Sienna asks.
"Yes. He kept saying, 'Anne Marie, my love, don’t ever forget. Remember me, please?' Promised he’d always love me." My chest feels tight. "He called me bean sprout..."
The words sit heavy on my tongue. I smell cedar and pine again. His scent.
Nix whimpers, "Bean sprout."
That nickname pulls at a wound I didn't even know I had. Sienna gasps and grips the covers. Jinx snarls within her.
"Bean Sprout...? Honey Bee...? These dreams can’t be coincidences," Sienna says. She looks around our fancy room; the same place where I’ve bitten my knuckles to stay quiet during heats while the vampires claimed their own mates just down the hall.
The longing for him feels like an open cut. I lean back against the wall and wipe my eyes. I dig my fingers into her waist and pull her close. She smells of vanilla as I press my cheek to her shoulder.
"No, I don’t think any of this is a coincidence," I agree. My voice shakes. "It felt real. His voice, those words were meant only for me. Like he’d said them a thousand times before."
Sienna sighs.
"Maybe that’s where it all started, Annie," she says. She traces circles on my thigh. The heat sears through my nightgown. "Remember? We were attacked by the hive during our ceremony. What if things weren’t supposed to happen that way? What if that’s what the witch wanted…"
My breath hitches. Nix growls in my head: "She knows. She feels it too. Some memories are false. And others? Real."
Sienna still smells of Patrick. I swallow hard. She needs Patrick like I want Marcus.
"Maybe," I say, twisting the silk sheets.
Sienna looks confused. Nix paces under my skin, she claws at my ribs.
"The treachery," she growls in my mindspace. "A stolen life."
"But why would the witch keep us from Patrick and Marcus?" Sienna asks. Her pupils swallow the green in her eyes. "And does this have anything to do with the vampires who now own us?"
Her fear smells metallic. I squeeze her hand.
"Yes. They’re in on it too somehow. They have to be. She always comes here when they call for her. They keep us for her," I mutter. "They know. The moment our mates’ fangs meet our throats, when they bite… fate would right itself. But the witch... there’s something familiar about her, isn’t it?"
"You know Jeffrey is the eldest vampire son of Dr. Greyson, just like his ancestor Vlad. Maybe he resents his maker?" she mutters low.
The smell of dead roses, Jeffrey’s scent, hits my memory.
"So he made the witch alter our destinies? Because he hates his maker?" My voice breaks. "Or partnered with her to do it. Maybe it benefits them both. But why?"
Sienna smells of sour vanilla again. Nix hisses in my mind: "Stolen Blue Moon princesses make weak prey. They wanted us broken first. To break them..."
My heart stutters. I ignore her. They killed everyone and imprisoned our parents just to kidnap us? All for a spell? Because Patrick and Marcus are just targets for some revenge plot? I don't want to believe it.
"That’s what we need to uncover, Annie. Why were our lives rewritten? Maybe we can fix this," Sienna murmurs. Her fingers tremble.
Nix drags her claws down my ribs. "Find the witch. Tear her throat out."
"You know we can't. So hush, Nix," I command, mentally.
Sienna twists the sheets.
"I don’t ever even remember meeting her before," she says. "It was just all of a sudden... boom... she was there in our lives."
She’s always given us potions since the vampires bought us. I can't remember when it started. The vampire clan mentioned once before that we knew her. But we don't. Their slip-up; that's the first clue. And if we did know her, it seems the memories were erased and replaced. I just know they were.
My lips curl into a frown.
"You wouldn’t remember, of course," Nix echoes in my thoughts.
"It wouldn’t benefit their plan if we remembered anything. Would it, Sienna? Only what they want... or permit us to know."
The air feels thick.
"Yeah, you’re right, Annie." Sienna says. Her voice is frayed. Jinx pulses beneath her skin. "So that’s why our dreaming is being monitored?" She smells of linen and fear. "So we don’t remember?"
My muscles coil tight. Now I’m just pissed.
"Yes," I murmur. "But because of our inner wolves... our hearts... they know the truth. They’ll remind us each time."
Sienna looks at me. We sit on the bed while dawn light spills through the windows.
Nix snarls. Marcus’s phantom bite burns at my throat. I feel that heat pooling in my belly.
"Focus. Focus. Focus," I tell myself, trying to ignore it.
Fate Re-alignment is a powerful witch’s spell. It’s cast to protect or to hurt. But which is this?
Nix suggests: "Protection," but my gut says it is a punishment.
We were meant to rule. Now we kneel as omegas. The lowest rank in this hive. The chains of fate are tighter than any collar on us. Our true loves are gone. This realignment feels like it is just breaking us.
The air tastes like rotting roses.
Nix says, "They stole our crowns before we could even wear them."
Sienna gasps, intercepting my wolf’s thoughts. That Blue Moon magic kicking in. Jinx’s energy surges in her. I dig my fingers into silk sheets that aren't mine, in a house that isn't mine. Heartache and rage fill the room.
Our wolves remember. Erased events. Forgotten mates. Even if we don’t.