Ride shook her head in disbelief. She hadn’t needed to worry about spotting Jamas’ house. Technically, he had followed the restrictions from the Otdun Council. Technically.
Another Damnation
Isabelle frowned at the intricate, deep red lines covering the length of her arms and forced her bile down. Weeks now and she still couldn’t stand the sight. Her bare arms bare a constant reminder of her deal. A reminder Luther Roe relished in, her preferences be damned.
Wolf Mother
Happy Mother’s Day! Mom’s coming in all varieties and personalities. Whatever type you or your mom may be, celebrate in their unique flavor. Today I have a flash fiction about one tough momma. Kalini scrapped her hand over the rough bark of a fallen trunk as she vaulted over. The winds carried a mournful howl,…
Conversation’s End
Gravel churned beneath as I fled to the forest. Behind me the castle soared on the horizon, a dream turned nightmare. I wish I’d never spoken with him. Now, I didn’t even have his name to curse.
Need
“Gneron K75?” Sienna stopped kneading the dough and stared at me like I’d gone mad. She huffed a breath trying to blow a stray lock from her face. A week ago, I would have agreed with her. But that was last week.
Possibility’s End
The age was ending. Yeassi ran, the Rafni stick tucked beneath her arm. The ground churned at her feet and the sky twisted about her. She staggered beaten sideways by a particularly fierce gale compounded with the stone turning to sand beneath her feet. Wrenching her hand from the quickly hardening ground, Yeassi forced herself up. She could not be late.
Baggage
Lanad lay on the cot, to weary to move his arm from where it flopped over his chest or care for the moans of those moving about him. His pain was within. The Wall had fallen. The Mahar had invaded Galocia. And it was all Lanad’s fault.
Witch Way
Gnawing my lip, I scanned the sky as I drug the red wagon over through the ruts. Lissa’d offered to pull. I’d refused, of course. I didn’t need help. I just needed the road to end. We circled a juniper bush and the house appeared.
Harder Still
Timothy slouched, his elbows pressing into his legs were the only things keeping him falling off the bench. He’d never been so exhausted.
Little Things
I hadn’t known what to expect when inspecting the Crendamma House. No one had. No one had passed the red gates in my parent’s memories. Only the queen’s oath of expulsion had granted, grudgingly, this inspection.
