Dark Glitter (Wild Hunt Motorcycle Club #1)

“And what, Arlo?” Amelie cut him off, her eyes turning hard as stone, and her teeth sharpening to deadly points. “What will you do to me? Do not forget who you speak to.”

To my genuine surprise, Arlo backed down, sliding back into his seat in the row behind us and saying nothing. His jaw was clenched tight though, and I could see a muscle in his cheek jumping with anger.

“Anyway,” Amelie, turned back to me without a trace of the terrifying enforcer she'd just presented to Arlo, “I wanted to be open with you, babe.”

My head tilted, and I pondered this information. Of course her loyalties lie with her Alpha; I couldn't be mad about that. And I was sure his interests were in restoring the Veil for his own people's good.

“Actually, I would like to meet and discuss this with your alpha myself,” I announced, and her eyes widened a fraction.

“No,” Reece snapped, and I jerked around in surprise to find all three biker men glaring with hardened expressions.

“We can't risk you entering pack land, Ciarah,” Killian explained, “it's too dangerous. Too uncertain where their loyalties lie.”

Amelie's lips tightened but she gave a tiny nod. “He's right. I wouldn't risk your safety, Keeper.”

Part of me, maybe the old part? I wasn't sure. But part of me flared hot with outrage that my subjects thought to tell me what I could or couldn't do. Truth shone through their words of concern though, and my better judgement prevailed. This time.

“Fine, then they will need to come to us.” I met Reece's gaze, unblinking, making it clear I wouldn't be budged on this.

He stared back at me a long, tense moment before sighing heavily and scrubbing a hand through his red-brown hair. “Fine. Kill, organize a gathering with the Louisiana Wolves.”

“Laissez les bons temps rouler,” Killian murmured, scratching at his dark stubble and watching me with his ice-blue eyes.

Arlo grunted a noise that I couldn't decipher the emotion behind, and looked away into the distance as Reece kicked the engine on and steered us out of the shallows we’d been stopped in.

“I hope you know what you're doing, Ciarah,” Amelie said as the wind picked up and began whipping our long hair around like a frog in a blender.

I hoped I did, too. But something I was sure of, was that I would need all the allies I could get in the coming times. Why not start with the wolves?





My favorite part of any day were those first few moments when the sun kissed the edge of the horizon, banishing the shadows of night in a centuries old feud with no end. There was no winner, no right or wrong. It simply … was. How peaceful, to exist in a state with no good, no evil, no moral qualms or questionable judgments. There was a cycle and a routine, and that was that.

“I know you don’t like me, so what am I doing here?” Raphael LeRoux asked as he melted from the shadows, his silver fur rippling into sun-weathered skin, his nakedness marred with dozens upon dozens of random scars. He didn’t have to be nude to shift, so I had to wonder if he was trying to make a point.

I didn’t even bother to turn around the rest of the way to look at him, keeping my elbows on the wood railing and flicking my eyes back to the bayou. That first glorious crash of orange and yellow sunshine on the water made life worth living. And let’s be honest—there weren’t a lot of things left in the world like that anymore.

“I’m inviting you to a party,” I said as I tapped my fingers against my sleeve and listened to the wild sounds of nature, a constant symphony of living and breathing and dying and fucking. It was like the complete opposite to the dance the sun and moon made, a random spattering of merciless choices. Eat or be eaten. Breed and then die. Get lucky or starve.

I sighed.

I knew I was being way too goddamn introspective today, but seeing the Veil Keeper … it was stirring all sorts of strange, primal memories and feelings. What did I know of life on the other side of the Veil? Le rien. Fucking nothing. I’d been born here—like most of my peers, like Arlo and Reece. It was only the old-timers like Donal or Fionn that had any idea what we were all missing out on.

The way they carried on, one would think it was paradise on the other side.

I figured it couldn’t be any worse than what we had here. This world was mad, but it was also beautiful.

“You called me all the way out here to invite me to a party?” Rafe growled, coming to stand beside me. I’d let the boys know he was coming, so nobody tried to kill him on his way into the clubhouse. Frankly, there was a good chance whoever challenged him would’ve been the one to end up dead.

“This is an important party with an important purpose. Our Veil Keeper wants to speak with you herself.”

“So I was told by Amelie,” Rafe said, his voice rough and husky, the voice of an animal. He stared over the railing and into the water like he could see things that I couldn’t. Maybe he could? He was a wolf, more animal than human. And I was fae. I was neither of those things. “I got the memo on the Sage and the spear. What else does she want?”

“Careful, wolf, or someone might think to find you ungrateful.” I stood up and stretched my arms above my head in a yawn, casting my blue eyes over to his bloodred ones. “I called you here because the Veil Keeper seems to trust you.”

Rafe scoffed a laugh and stood up, curling his fingers around the wood railing and shaking his head.

“She’s a fool then. She shouldn’t be trusting a damn soul—least of all me. Have you told her about—”

“No.”

The word was short and sharp, and Rafe sighed..

“You people and your weird hang-ups. I’ll never understand any of it. Fine. We accept your invitation—but don’t make me regret it. If I bring my wolves here and a damn hair on a single one of their fine furry asses is out of place by the time we leave, it won’t be a good day for you and yours.”

I smiled and dropped my arms to my sides.

“Bien. Ciarah will be pleased to hear it.”

Raphael gave me a strange look and shook his head.

“Next time, motherfucker, just call me on the damn phone.”

He started to shift as he turned, his palms falling to the deck. By the time they hit the old, rough wood, they were paws. Rafe cast one last bloodred glance at me and took off at a slow jog. I followed at a careful distance behind him, around the corner and toward the edge of the woods. Using magic, I cloaked my approach, crouching down in the brush just outside the new wards Ciarah had erected.

Sure enough, there was a sprite, watching and waiting.

Raphael glanced up at it as he passed and seemed to cock his head a little. The sprite just hissed and took off into the trees as he shook his silver pelt out and kept moving.

That wasn’t a definitive answer to my question on whether the wolves were involved with the sprites or not, but it helped.

The Louisiana Wolves … if they chose to turn on us, the battle would be brutal and bloody.

One side would crawl away from that fight, but there’d be no victor.

Now I just had to hope that whoever the sprites were reporting to … that they couldn’t slaughter us both.

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