INTO THE SURGE
“Gaius — the eagle’s in the water. Move.“ Cassius’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. Every man on that deck was already moving. Over the railing. Into the cold. Into the spear-fire. Into whatever Britain had waiting for…
The Week Ahead
“You’ve been dead three weeks, Mum.” I said it out loud to an empty kitchen and the words just sat there, refusing to be funny. I’d come down to clear the cottage. Three bags of cardigans by the door. Dust sheets coming off the…
Kindling
…and pressed its huge frost-rimed forehead gently against the boy’s. Eirik felt the warmth of it. Felt the tremor go out of the enormous body. And then — impossibly — the beast made a sound back. A low, rumbling note. Wobbling. Searching. Trying to…
Three Empty Hands
The jaws opened — and stopped. Not on her hands. Beside them. The great scarred head pressed flat into Mira’s open palms, the way a starving dog leans into the first warmth it has felt in years. A low sound rolled out of the creature’s chest.…
The Beast Who Knelt
The Beast-Master did not sit down. His hand stayed at his mouth. His eyes did not leave the girl’s wrist. Governor Calliantes turned in his seat, the gold signet tapping once against the marble rail. “Verrun. Sit.” Verrun did not look…
The Last Breath of Frost
The quill stayed raised. The page stayed empty. Vihaan listened for the next breath. It did not come on the count he expected. He let his eyes lift from the notched horn to the long lowered curve of her face, and only then to her open eye, which had been…
The Daisy Knot
The huntsman’s lips parted. The word did not come out clean. “Princess —” It was barely a word. More breath than sound. But the page boy by the arrow basket heard it, and his head came up like a deer’s. The girl heard it too. Her…
The Last Loaf of Aldenmar
She did not finish the word. The wyvern closed its golden eye, slowly, the way a person closes their eyes when they have been waiting a long time to be allowed to rest. “How,” Ysolde whispered. “How do you know that.” “Eat…
A Servant’s Bow
Wren stood with the jug in her hands and waited. The baron’s ring-hand hovered over the cup he had set down. His eyes had not left the pendant at her throat. Around the long table, the hush moved outward in slow rings — first the guests nearest…
The Beast Will Not Eat Tonight
Larrian took one step forward and the broken clay of the wine cup ground under his boot. He did not look down. He could not look anywhere except at the red cord on the girl’s wrist, the small wooden wolf bouncing once against the bone of her arm as…