Elmielos

"Hi, yes you aren't dreaming, it's the chubby Kelly," I say inwardly as I see the unhappy face expression of Jason who is disheartened. 

The guests laugh at us. They call our couple all sort of names. "The prince charming and the pancakes' eater Kelly" is one I can sadly remember."

"I, Jason Bentley of the South pack, reject you Kelly Thompson as my mate and the Luna Queen," he declared fiercely.

***
Kelly Thompson, an eighteen-year-old curvaceous and wolfless she-wolf, has been quietly admiring Jason Bentley, the heir apparent to the throne of the dominant South pack, for a number of years.

Unfortunately for Kelly, she doesn't get the same attention in return from Alpha heir Jason, as the handsome daughter of his old father's Gammas, Betty Nord, is already the love of the pack's future Alpha. But, the plump Kelly has an advantage over the skinny Betty because of a strong vow made by Jason's father, the Alpha King Don Bentley, that his son will marry the daughter of his Betas who gave their lives two years ago in a fight against the North pack's fiercest adversaries in order to preserve the life of the Alpha heir.

But clearly, nothing goes as smoothly as Kelly imagines.

The Rejected Curvy Luna Queen

Not metaphorically—jagged molars sprout from the soil, roots coiling like tongues, canopies dripping saliva that sizzles where it hits the ground. The air reeks of iron and elderflower, a cloying sweetness that clings to the storm festering in my ribs. Eden walks ahead, his starburst scars flickering in time with the forest’s pulse. He hasn’t spoken since the temple. His silence is a blade we both pretend not to feel. 


The storm’s voices coil tighter. *“She’s here,”* they hiss. *“The one who *remembers*.”* 


A woman steps from the trunk of a petrified oak, her skin bark, her hair lichen, eyes twin pools of liquid rot. She smells of graves I’ve dug and ones I’ve fled. “Hello, Kelly,” she says, and the forest stills. “I’ve missed you.” 


Eden snarls, void-light crackling. “Illusion.” 


The woman laughs, sap-blood dripping from her fingertips. “No. I’m what the forest swallowed. What *you* left behind.” 


The coast