by T Shadow
I’ll accept this version of Landon, any day.
•°•
I’d like to say that I’m ready to get down with the guys amongst the stars and the trees, but after the burning and piercing of skin the only thing I’m ready to do is to sit and rest for a few seconds. Mika and Lucius walk ahead of us, her dress billowing behind her, but I walk with my mates, Leland next to me and Landon just behind me to the side, Finnegan protecting me from behind and Remington at the back of the pack in his place as the leader. It’s a state of mind that I don’t think he’ll be able to change, mated or not.
But as I see my home looming in the distance, my heart feels full at the prospect of finally having all of my once-upon-a-time dreams collide together in a matter of weeks. My house is now a home, my halls are filled voices, the harsh clicks of claws and the stomping of boots all day, everyday. I get woken up by an errant elbow, a loud, single snore or some odd words either whispered or shouted during the night. I never knew that my life could be so loud, chaotic and somehow relaxing at the same time.
I would say we kick our shoes off as soon as we get inside, but the need for shoes during the ceremony was redundant, so our feet are covered in grass stains but at least we’re not managing to track mud into the house. That’s Lucius’ job— that little shit drags mud from door to door without a care in the world, and Mika looks the other way when she notices it, feigning ignorance.
I kick the mud to the side before the guys trample all over it. They’re in the midst of removing their formal attire for comfortable loungewear in all available areas of the house, including the hallways, doorways and bedrooms of the house. Thankfully they abstain from the front room, giving Mika enough space that she’s unlikely to throw inanimate objects at semi-naked males.
My dress swirls around my ankles as I move the sofa that I fully intend to sit on. Just as my posterior comes into close contact with the sofa cushion I get a tea thrusted into my hands from Mika, the cup at an almost blistering heat, but after today’s actions, I hardly feel it. The bustle of men getting dressed, the fox shouting in the kitchen and Mika arguing with said fox does nothing to disguise the sound of knocking on the front door. As the closest, and most suspicious person, I take it upon myself to answer the door but I’m beaten to it by Remington, who has emerged from the back room like a silent killer. He’s not cautious, his attitude happy and joyful rather than worried and concerned. As I stand, he opens the door quickly, but his mood goes from confused to mistrust to angry. It’s only when I get closer to see who it is that I understand why.
“Radley?”
I came here with one thing in mind. But as I stand here, in the doorway to my sister’s cozy, well-lit home, I realise that I may have made a small mistake. It wasn’t my intention to come here and disturb the small, quiet life she made for herself, but it happened as the stars willed it.
There’s shit that she obviously hasn’t mentioned about me, and that’s fine. But as I look here, at these… boys… I realise that she hasn’t mentioned shit. Other than the fact that I’m probably an invading busy-body with no real social skills to call on, she probably kept her freak of a sister a well hidden secret like she did her hoard. But I knew that about Remi, because there was something that I hid with her years ago before she left and she doesn’t realise it, but obviously, I do. As I stand here, I try to think over what to say as she stands in front of me, shocked and confused. Slightly angry if I had to guess properly, but she knew that this day would come. I just had to build up the courage first.
“Radley… you left the Realm… why did y-”
I raise my hand to stop her from asking too many questions and I drag my gaze over to her men. I recognise the tall one with dark hair. He’s the son of the current First Knight, loyal advisor to Lord Draconis. I don’t trust the man as far as I can throw him, and that quite frankly, is a significant distance. I shift my eyes along all of them, not recognising the red head or the blonde guy, but I do recognise the small guy on the end. He’s a little different than what I’ve seen over the years, but now he radiates confidence, stands a little taller, his back straight and his chin high. He’s a different person than that meek little boy I’ve watched, running from room to room in his house to avoid any contact with another person. If anything, I’m thankful that the boy managed to find someone hard and ruthless like my sister. Especially if she hasn’t shown that side of herself yet.
Looking back at my sister, I note her features which differ from mine. Whilst her face is unblemished and as beautiful as the day she entered adulthood, mine was withered and worn from the long nights and the blistering sun. I have a few scars, too. From the time that I willingly went through torture training that was offered to me on the presumption that it was a valuable gift, and not a time when I’d question my own being. But when I really look at her, I see the love in her eyes and the hurt that she wears on her sleeve when she looks at me. God, I haven’t seen my sister in a long time and we haven’t spoken for longer than that, but I wouldn’t wish her any harm in the world. But what I’m about to say, might crush it all the same.
How do you tell your only sister you ruined her entire life?
Gosh. It’s been a long six months or more.
I loved writing this book, then I hated it. Loved it, hated it again. But if you didn't hate your book at one point during the writing process, did you enjoy it at all?
To my partner — who helped me throughout the process, basically by stopping me from ripping my hair out when the characters were going AWOL and being little shits.
To my Beta readers — You rock! Without all your hard work, I wouldn't have finished this on time.
To Marie Mistry who was like “you can do this” when I was like "LOL maybe I shouldn't do this."
To you, the reader — you gave my book a go, I appreciate that you took time out of your day to read it.
To my Nana — who listened to every loop hole and plot twist, 'oohing' and 'aahing' at them even if they were bloody terrible.
Thank you for reading it. If you liked it, (or didn’t) leave a review!
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Do people ever really do author pages anymore?
I'm Tarin.
I try really hard to write stories that some people haven't read before.
I don't like genre trends, I'm covered in tattoos and piercings. I like to sit at home and play Fallout 76 and watch Grey's Anatomy, at the moment anyway.
For years to come this book will be used as a time capsule, as it was published by Amazon during the global pandemic known as COVID-19, or to any millenial - The 'Rona.
