Bonus Epilogue
SETH LIVINGSTON
The last place I expect trouble is at the Saturday morning markets here on Motuwai.
Yeah, the crowds have doubled now that we’re in the summer tourist season, but this island is the epitome of a small town.
Everything is quaint, and life moves at a slower pace here than anywhere else that I’ve ever lived before, with the exception of Bluewater Bay.
Sometimes I wonder if Motuwai is the reason I feel so restless — maybe I’m not made for the quiet life — but then I remind myself that I felt the same way in Tokyo, Beijing, and Hanoi. It’s not the location that’s the problem. It’s me.
I may be an inch shorter than my alpha brother, but I still stand taller than almost all humans, and here in the human-heavy crowd there’s no shortage of people staring or looking at me twice as I wander through, searching for my nephews.
Lacey said she was bringing them down this morning, but as I reach the last row of stalls I realise that she must be running late.
Seth
You standing me up, Lace?
I send the message in our siblings chat, just to bug Lacey more. Van will see it and give her shit about running late again. They’re both so predictable.
Lacey
Forgive me, the boys slept in and I made the most of the opportunity to get my back blown out.
Van
JFC, we don’t need to know that.
Lacey
Says the man who repeatedly fucked his wife in the garden within earshot of my old house. I love Ellie, but I didn’t need to know what she sounds like when she comes, Evander.
Van
. . .
I snort, seeing the three dots typing beneath Van’s name. He’s still typing thirty seconds later, clearly writing an essay, and I pocket my phone. I’ll leave them to their arguing.
I turn in a slow circle, trying to work out what to eat for breakfast. There’s the usual you find at almost every Kiwi market — sausage sizzle, bacon butties, bacon and egg baps — and then some of the more unusual offerings, like a hangi food truck.
Maybe that could be good. They do fry bread, too.
I’m in the middle of dodging a particularly dense patch of the crowd when both my wolves suddenly become agitated. Behind you, my shifter says while the were growls, and I turn slowly, acting casual, my heart racing when I see him standing only a dozen feet away.
Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin, and a face I’ve memorised from the photos.
Copthorne.
Fuck.
One moment he’s in glamour, looking like a human, and the next he’s changed, his ears now pointed, longer than his daughters’, his eyes an even brighter blue.
I realise two things at once: that he wants me to see him, and that he’s completely invisible to the humans present.
“What do you want?” I ask, doing my best to memorise every detail about him, just in case.
He’s wearing a singlet, and if I ever had any doubt about who he is, the two full sleeves of tattoos that cover his arms put an end to that.
I’ve spent enough time helping Ellie in her gardens to recognise the flowers on the design: roses, irises, amaryllis.
On his left shoulder is a stylised sun — light — the meaning behind Ellie’s name.
“Let’s talk,” I say, taking two steps forward.
He turns and runs.
“Fuck!”
I chase after him, yelling “Move!” at an oblivious human and shoving my way through a group of teenagers.
Copthorne darts behind one of the old community buildings and I follow, swearing again as I round the corner to find a giant deer galloping away, its huge tree-branch antlers almost as big as its body.
Fucker.
There’s no time to undress, so I shift on the run, tearing through my clothes as I land on four paws.
I sprint after him, barking madly, knowing the rest of the pack will be sensing my stress through our shared bond.
Van’s anxiety is an alarm in the back of my head, and I curse the timing of this all.
He’s got a new daughter at home, only one week old, and I growl, pushing myself harder as a sickening thought flits through my mind.
Copthorne is here for the baby.
There’s enough human stories of fae stealing newborns.
I’ll kill him.
He’s not coming near her.
I chase him through the busy market traffic, leaping over cars, ignoring the shocked cries from humans as we pass them. Over a set of fences and into a paddock, the loud baa from a hundred panicked sheep filling my ears as I snap at their legs for being too slow to get the fuck out of my way.
I follow the deer over a hill and down into a valley, through into forest, barking again because where the fuck is my pack?
I need backup, he’s faster than I thought, his tan hide blending into the surrounds as I scrabble down a steep slope.
I run through a shallow riverbed, dodge trees as I climb the opposite bank, following his scent when I lose sight of him as he crests another hill and into…
I break through the trees and into a clearing, eyes darting around as his scent and the noise of his hooves are suddenly everywhere at once. I leap forward only to have something wrap around my back leg, yelping as I fall heavily on my side.
Vines.
They grow from the ground at an unnatural pace, wrapping around my limbs, glowing green with fae magic.
I snarl and snap at them with my teeth, squirming, drawing my own blood in an attempt to free myself, but it’s too much.
They snake around my muzzle, cinching tight so I can’t howl, so I can’t even breathe, and I’m going to die, mushrooms sprouting from the ground in a circle, the green glow overtaking everything until it’s all I can see—
The pool is bright blue, but their eyes are brighter, filled with a cruelty I’ve never seen before. Dark blue hands wrap around small limbs that wiggle in their grasp, their claws drawing blood as she struggles against the two monsters.
She spots me and cries out, but I’m frozen in place, watching with horror as they lift the skull of a deer in the air.
It’s streaked with blood and glows green as they toss it in the centre of the pool, the shape of it morphing, bones changing, muscle and flesh growing until it’s not a deer but a small child, my sister, her body floating face down and lifeless in the water.
I look up in horror and see her there, alive, caught in their arms, a clawed hand over her mouth. She snarls and bites, and they curse as she screams my name.
“Jenny!” I yell. A hand covers my mouth and nose. I can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t move. There’s a ringing in my ears, a pressure in my head as if I’ll explode, and I can’t understand their language but I somehow understand the word he says.
Forget.
Everything aches, and I groan a moment before bile rises up my throat. Warm hands roll me in the grass, holding me in place as I retch, my brother’s voice even and steady, but I can’t process his words. Everything is too bright. I feel like my head is going to explode.
Voices are everywhere, arguing, and I draw my hands over my ears, curling in on myself. It’s too much.
“Let me take him,” a woman offers. “He needs help. He needs magic.”
“Bronte is his mother.”
“Bronte needs to protect Ellie and the baby. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Let me take him.”
“I’m his alpha. I think Nerilina is right.”
“You’re only saying that to protect your own mate. This is my son.”
“And I’m your son, too.”
A different set of hands, lifting me, carrying me in his arms. Dad. I keep my eyes closed. I don’t know where I am. Everything is spinning.
But there’s blankets and warmth and something bitter on my tongue. And finally, a blissful, quiet peace.
Seth Livingston, along with the rest of the Unravelling Monsters cast, will return in A WOLF IN EVERY REALM.