SAMANTHA
I woke up gasping.
My eyes flew open. My chest heaved. My hands grabbed at the sheets beneath me, twisting the thin fabric into knots. For a moment, I did not know where I was. The walls were grey. The window was barred. The light was pale and cold.
Morning.
I was in my room. My small room in the slave quarters.
I touched my lips. They were not swollen. I touched my neck. No bruises. I touched my collarbone. No marks. No evidence that any of it had happened.
A dream.
Just a dream.
But it had felt so real. The wings. The kisses. The way their hands felt on my skin. The way Finnian's silver feathers wrapped around my legs. The way Darlington's lips moved against my neck.
I sat up and put my head in my hands.
My face was wet. Tears. I had been crying in my sleep.
That was some dream, Cece said inside my head.
You saw it?
I am inside you. Of course I saw it.
Was it real?
What do you mean?
Did it really happen? Did they really kiss me? Did they really hold me by the fountain?
Cece was quiet for a moment. I do not know. It felt real. But there are no marks on your skin. No scent of them on your clothes.
So it was a dream.
Maybe. Or maybe it was a prophecy.
I lifted my head. A prophecy?
Sometimes the moon goddess sends visions. Especially to mates. Especially to wolves who are about to go through something big.
You think the triplets are my mates?
I know they are. I have known since the first time you scented them.
Then why have they not claimed me?
That is a question for them. Not for me.
I sighed. I rubbed my eyes. My head was pounding. My body ached.
Cece?
Yes?
Do you wish it was real? The dream?
Cece was quiet for a long moment. Then: Yes. I wish it was real. Their wolves... I could feel them. Strong. Protective. Hungry. They wanted us. Not just our body. Us.
That is what scares me.
Why?
Because I have never been wanted before. Not really. My father wanted an heir. My cousin wanted my position. John wanted my body. But them...
Them?
They looked at me like I was something precious. Something worth protecting.
Because you are.
I did not answer. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The stone floor was cold against my bare feet.
Cece?
Yes?
Are the triplets hybrids? Wolf and angel?
I do not know.
You do not know?
I have never seen wings like theirs. I have never scented anything like them. They are not just wolves. That much is certain. But angels? Fairies? Something else? I cannot say.
Then how do we find out?
We read. We ask. We watch.
Read what?
The library. The old books. The ones about curses and bloodlines and creatures that are not quite wolf.
I nodded slowly. The library.
Yes. Go now. Before the other slaves wake up. Before Daisy assigns today's training. Before anyone sees you.
I dressed quickly. A plain grey dress. Simple shoes. I did not fix my hair. I did not wash my face. I just walked out of my room and down the corridor toward the library.
---
The library was empty.
Bookshelves lined every wall, stretching from floor to ceiling. Dust motes floated in the pale morning light. The air smelled of old paper and forgotten things.
I walked to the nearest shelf and ran my fingers along the spines.
What am I looking for? I asked Cece.
Anything about hybrids. About creatures with wings. About wolves who are not just wolves.
I pulled out a book. It was thick. Heavy. The cover was made of cracked leather. I opened it and read the first page.
Nothing about hybrids.
I put it back. Pulled out another. Nothing. Another. Nothing.
This is going to take all day, I said.
Then we take all day.
I turned a corner and stopped.
A woman was sitting at a table in the corner. She was young. Dark skin. Short hair. Her eyes were tired—deep circles beneath them, like she had not slept in weeks. She wore a simple grey dress, same as mine. A slave.
She looked up when she saw me. Her eyes were empty. Hollow. But she did not look away.
I hesitated. Then I walked over.
"Can I sit here?"
She looked at me for a long moment. Then she nodded.
I sat down across from her. The chair creaked beneath me.
"I am Samantha," I said.
"Meenah."
"How long have you been here?"
"Too long."
I did not know what to say to that. So I said nothing.
Meenah watched me. Her eyes moved across my face. My neck. My shoulders.
"You had a nightmare," she said.
I blinked. "How did you know?"
"Your eyes. Your hands. You keep touching your neck like you expect to find something there."
I lowered my hands.
"What was the nightmare about?" Meenah asked.
I hesitated. Could I trust her? She was a slave. Same as me. What did she have to gain by betraying me?
Nothing, Cece said. Tell her.
"I dreamed about the triplets," I said.
Meenah's expression did not change. "That is not a nightmare. That is most girls' fantasy."
"Not when they have wings."
Meenah went still. Her empty eyes flickered. Something moved behind them. Interest. Curiosity.
"Wings?" she repeated.
"Yes but nevermind."
Meenah leaned forward. Her voice dropped low. "You should be careful, Samantha."
"Why?"
"Because the triplets are not just wolves. Everyone knows that. But no one knows what they are. Not really. There are rumors. Whispers. But no one has ever confirmed anything."
"That is why I am here. I want to read about them. About hybrids. About creatures with wings."
Meenah nodded slowly. She stood up and walked to a shelf near the back of the library. Her fingers moved along the spines. Searching. Stopping.
She pulled out a book. Small. Old. The cover was black.
"This is what you are looking for," she said.
She brought it back to the table and set it in front of me.
I opened it.
The pages were yellow. The writing was small. Handwritten. Old.
I read the first paragraph.
"There are creatures in this world that are neither wolf nor human. They are born of curses and blessings, of witches and gods. They walk among us with wings on their backs and fire in their blood. They are called many things. Angels. Demons. Hybrids. But the oldest name for them is simply: The Cursed."
My heart pounded.
I read on.
"These creatures are born from unions that should not exist. A wolf and an angel. A demon and a human. A witch and a god. The result is unpredictable. Some are born with wings. Some with magic. Some with nothing at all except a hunger that can never be satisfied."
I thought of Jayce. His cruelty. His hunger.
"The Cursed are drawn to mates the same way wolves are. But the bond is stronger. More intense. More dangerous. A Cursed male who finds his mate will stop at nothing to claim her. He will chase her across worlds. He will burn down kingdoms. He will tear apart anyone who stands in his way."
I thought of the maze. The way they chased me. The way they refused to let me go.
"The mate of a Cursed male is marked in ways that cannot be seen. Her scent changes. Her blood changes. Her wolf changes. She becomes something more than she was. Something stronger. Something that other wolves will fear."
I closed the book.
My hands were shaking.
Meenah watched me. "What did you find?"
I looked up at her. My throat was dry.
"I found out that I am not safe," I said. "Not here. Not anywhere. Not as long as they want me."
Meenah nodded slowly. "Then what will you do?"
I stared at the black cover of the book.
"I do not know," I said. "But I need to figure it out before it is too late."