(Hi! This is about Lock and Key. They are in _Most Wanted, _and they meet Hale, a princess in my More Than Blood series on here. I haven’t written in that world in a while, but I am trying to write more in it.) ——— Hale is ahead of the twins but within their sight. Lock has an apprehensive gaze on her back. Key rolls her eyes at her brother. “You know what Mom and Dad always said,” Key reminds him, swatting at him. He dodges, but his attention quickly returns to the princess fighter in front of them. “Yes I know. Don’t trust anyone. Especially royals,” he answers. Even with their parents having been gone for a long time, their insistence on not trusting people was drilled into their skulls. Key shakes her head, red hair bouncing with her movement. “No they said specific royals. Which doesn’t include Hale.” This princess comes out of nowhere and helps them. How can Key not be curious? “So you think we should just…what? Go with her?” He asks incredulously. It’s rhetorical, but Key is very serious. She shrugs, which does not make Lock feel better about this situation. “We know how to get around better than anyone. Who is better to help?” “Anyone. Literally anyone,” he deadpans, giving his sister a blank stare. Grabbing his upper arm, she shakes him as if to shake sense into him. “This could be our chance!” Lock is stressed to the max. The enthusiasm for this princess baffles him. His sister might be losing her mind. “Our chance for what, Key? We’re criminals! Not chauffeurs!” He snaps sternly, running a hand through his ginger tresses. “Our chance to do something, be something more than just this,” she tried to explain, gesturing widely to their surroundings. “Do what Mom and Dad wanted to do in their lives. The right thing.” Sometimes Lock really hated his sister’s fervor for their parents’ words. And that she was older. It usually made her right. Sighing, somewhat dramatically (Key would say very much so), he nods. “Fine,” he draws out the single word just to be difficult. Pumping her fist in the air in victory, she actually giggles. It almost makes him smile. Key drags Lock closer to Hale and presents the good news, “We want to help you.” Hale glances at them, not impressed, more like amused. The twins can see that she isn’t threatened by them since she doesn’t even have her hand on her sword, and she’s entirely relaxed. “I know. You were talking very loud.”

Lord George Randoff. Twenty-eight. Has a wife and child. Owner of West England’s largest vineyard, and he makes sure everyone knows it. Makes sure everyone knows about his every accomplishment with that vineyard. _Snap!_ He should’ve said less. “That’s our target right there, Olive.” _Snap_! I take another bite of my carrot._ Snap! _Oliver does the same. “Didn’t take long to find him, did it?” “Well,” says Oliver in that deep, quiet voice of his, “this _is_ his birthday celebration, Olivia.” “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go ahead and finish this, hmm? The client says he has a taste in men, so you better do your best in the outfit I made you.” Oliver looks dashing in it, I must say. Vest and waist coat a burgundy, trousers and darker shade of grey. His green eyes, almost the same shade as his name suggests—and the same color and shape as mine—are framed by bushy eyebrows that have volume and speak more than he often does. His skin is a freckled hue of deep brown, lips plump and red. I had given him a makeover so that his face would appear more flushed when speaking to the lord tonight. Ah, it is getting a bit late. We had arrived a little late, but that was my fault. I toss the carrot to the side, stroking a gloves hand through my curly hair, marveling at the gorgeous way it bounces with its reddish-brown glory. Oliver’s is the same, shorter of course, but equal in beauty. He _is_ my twin. He tosses his carrot to the side as well, then kicks both of ours under a well clipped bush. “Are you ready, _Mr. Hallow_?” I say to him. “As always…Ms. Penny.” I extend my hand. “Then let’s get this assassination over with so we can go home.” ——— Two people: a man and a woman, both dark skinned and wearing matching outfits. They enter as one, eyes focused as though they know where they’re going and what they’re about to do. I crack my knuckles, brushing the dirt off my trousers as I stand from where I am hiding. I look down at myself, cheap clothing too small for me, and sigh. I’m not at all dressed for the occasion, but Lord Randoff would have to deal with this—if he’s a bitch about it, I swear to everything holy. I’m protecting his life here, so he better be happy. “And not fall for any…temptations. _Shit_, they move fast.” I hope over the bush, gaining some curious and disgusted glances my way, and walk quickly to where the woman had left the man with the Lord. _Jesus_, that’s a mouthful. Let’s hope that’s all this is. ——— As we walk up the the Lord, who is talking a storm with his mates, bragging is all it sounds like, really, Olivia clears her throat and all the men turn to us. They’re quiet. One of the men to the far right is eyeing Olivia’s breasts. She shudders, but it’s so quick no one notices it but me. He isn’t important, though. The man of the show has his eyes wide on me. Perfect. “Hello, milord.” Olivia curtsies, hair bobbing with her. I bow as well, repeating what she said, but more quieter. Talking or interacting with people isn’t my strong suit, but when it’s for business—and feeding ourselves—I’ll put my discomfort away. Lord George’s pals pat him on the back, glancing at me as they walk away. The lord coughs, licks his lips, then shakes himself out of his stupor. “Welcome! Welcome! Uh—do I know you?” He mostly looks at me as he says this. The edges of his eyes are lined with lust. I didn’t think Olivia’s outfit designing was that good, but I suppose it is. It fits around my muscular body pretty well. Not too tight, but tight enough to show the hard lines of my body. Olivia knew it, too. She looks behind the lord’s head, then her face brightens. “Oh! They have truffles here Percy!” Percy, that’s right. That’s my name this time. “I’ll be right back.” She gives Lord George a smile. “Nice to meet you and happy birthday.” “Thank you very much, Ms…?” “Ms. Penny.” “Well, nice meeting you.” “Treat my brother well, will you? As the quiet type, he is, he’ll keep you waiting for an answer until you’re dead!” Olivia laughs, a dainty gloved hand covering her mouth politely, then she strides away in her burgundy gown. Elegant as always. “So. Percy?” I nod. “Percy Hallow, sir.” I give him my hand and he shakes it, hand holding on longer than one would normally do. I stroke the inside of his wrist with my fingers before letting go. He bites his lip. “Lovely party you have here.” “Well, yes, thank you. My wife organized it. Not that it matters, of course.” “No, I don’t think it does.” The lord grins, then he shakes his head, eyes widening. “But—but in the case it will.” “What do you—“ “My lord! Who is this man?” I turn to see a man next to me. A man. No, an angel. His body is lean, almost as tall as I am. His blond, almost white hair, is tied tightly against the back of his neck, the rest resting on his back. Even though I’m not close, I can see the thickness of bounty of his translucent eyelashes. I can see the way they brush his pale cheeks, the way his thin lips part as he turns to me. I almost cry at the face he’s bestowing me. **Hatred.** What did I do wrong to have an angel find fault in me. “My lord,” he says, completely ignoring me, “We need to talk.” Lord George opens his mouth, but then there’s a shot. _Snap!_ Then there’s a scream. Plan B it is. Whoever this angel is, Olivia finds him dangerous. There’s not many people Olivia’s afraid of. The angel flips around and points at me. I notice he’s wearing the most ragged clothes I’ve ever seen on a man. Olivia, under better circumstances, would fuss over his attire. “You—you under arrest by the Bureau of Magickal Investigation and Murder. You have the right to remain silent, but you must hand over your wand.” Well, no reason to pretend anymore. Lord Geroge starts to back away, but Olivia’s right behind him. The lord flinches at something. All eyes are on us. The guests, the servants. How are we ever going to get out of this one? “That’s where you’re wrong, angel,” the man gives me a curious look before going back to his original expression, “I’m not a magicker at all.” Then I bite my finger and blood drips onto the ground. ——— They disappear. With the lord. They’re just…gone. “Well, shit.” I’m gonna lose my job, aren’t I? “And did he just call me an “**_angel_**”?!” *** A random thing I thought of while daydreaming and listening to music. Thanks for reading and have a great day! ❤️

I wasn’t like other boys. From a young age, I remember not wanting to play sports on the playground during breaks at school. I didn’t want to join any teams, preferring to sit in the library or other classrooms and read books. I graduated highschool without many friends. My twin was there with me, walking the stage, but he preferred the sports, the friends. We were close, and we shared a room for our whole lives, but I just didn’t feel connected to him in the way friends do. The way some twins said they did: like they were on the same wavelength. He was my twin, my family, and that was that. Until the day came to leave to college and he found my collection. My jars, sealed tightly, with different specimens, lining shelves in a back closet of our house, one that was forgotten about. I had been collecting the specimens for years, since I was a little boy. The closet smelled of rot. I feared he would tell our parents, and dispel my image. Instead, he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the back shed. It had been there since before we moved in, even. There, he showed me that he, too, had a collection. Only the things in his jars weren’t preserved, dead. They were alive and writhing. I stared in admiration and our eyes met. We had more in common than we thought.

I loved you before I met you My twin from the dark You were our mother’s favorite She’d play with us in the park Little rubber boots Puddles in the rain How she’d gazed at your picture Now missing from the frame A million thoughts echoed in her head Not one of them directed towards me instead Where’d you go, oh brother of mine? To a far away place I’ll never know Our house doesn’t feel the same Without you, I feel lifeless- alone The police went looking for you But you never came home Your friends asked me where you went I told them I thought you’d gone on a trip And when everyone you ever knew was loved by you Your blue bike was found, missing too Now you’re not here at all They say its harder before the fall But the fall seems endless when I’m not with you Those sirens blaring in my head Blue white and red Caution tape, found dead Please don’t leave me on read There’s not a single red thread to trace your footsteps again No marks on the trees to lead you back to me Photographs only show me what I don’t want to see Mother’s gone and lost it- completely Unhinged what happened can never happen again

After Loreley and Aran finally finished baking the apple pies, she was sent out to their humble little baking stand to sell them. Aran got to work on preparing the other dishes that Loreley had not mastered well enough to help with. When she neared the door, she grabbed her jacket and slung it over a shoulder. She let herself out and closed the door behind her. “Try to be back in four bells,” Darius called to her from the vast yard he was cleaning Peril in. She gave him a nod and ran to the stand across the street. She still didn’t understand why she had to be back so early all the time. She could sell so many more pies if she stayed for seven bells but she wasn’t one to argue. “Restocking?” A regular buyer asked, hauling five full grocery bags with her. Loreley slowed down to a jog. Even in the fall weather, the running was making her boil. “Yup!” “I’ll stop by in a few. Have to drop these off at home first.” Loreley gave her a quick wave, continuing with her fast pace. When she finally reached the stand, she practically collapsed, setting down the load of pies on the counter. She slumped into the chair, letting herself catch her breath. She was still breathing heavily when a middle aged man came up and held a silver coin. It was hard to muster the self control to not snatch it from him and gawk at it. Instead, she took it slowly with a pleasant smile. The fallen king and queen had been stamped into the pretty silver and was in stunning condition. She pocketed the coin, not wanting anyone to steal it from the coin box she had on the desk. “Thank you. How many, sir?” She asked. “Just one will be fine,” the man said with a smile, his eyes sparkling. “I’m sorry, just one? But- but this could cover all of them. It’s simply too much. I cant accept it,” she shook her head, pulled the coin back out, and held it out to the man who took a step back. “No, I am well off. I simply enjoy giving to small family businesses like yours. You people are in need more than some others,” damn this man was kind, too kind for his own good. The amount of people who would take advantage of his generosity had to be somewhere in the thousands. “Thank you again. But are you sure you don’t want any more than one?” She tilted her head. “No. Me and my wife won’t be able to eat them all before they go bad. One is enough,” the man confirmed. Loreley picked the pie on the top and handed it to him over the counter. “What is your name? I would like to remember you. And, of corse, to suggest your services,” Loreley hesitated. Names were precious in the town. Giving yours could either mean your success, or your downfall. “Lillian. My name is Lillian,” she lord. Actually *lied* she didn’t do it often, hated it in fact. After the man left, Loreley set to organizing the stand, but stoped short when she heard Darius’s voice. “Holy shit, you have no idea that you just saved your ass by giving that man a fake name,” he said, clearly out of breath. He never swore, not unless it was for something important. “What?” Why was *she* of all people significant? “I’ll explain on the fly. Come on, we have to tell Arab and then haul ass out of here,” he said, grabbing her by the hand and leading her behind the closet building where she found Peril sitting patiently. She hauled herself up and held on to Darius as they took off, letting go once they were airborne. … “Aran, saddle Kaida. We need to get the hell out of here,” Darius slammed open the front door, Loreley too steps behind him. She reached into her pocket and held the coin out to Darius. … Her face was stern as she held the coin infront of Darius. He watched her closely, standing completely still and silent. The eyes of Ellowen stared back at him, not Loreley. “Why do I recognize them,” she asked in a low voice too much like her mother’s. “Because they’re the fallen king and queen. Everyone recognizes them,” he tried. He could keep it a secret for a bit longer. “No! Why can I hear a siren’s voice when I look at queen Ellowen? And why do I hear a warm, weak coming chuckle when I look at king Dannon!” She demanded, waving it in front of him. Shit. Shit. Shit! “Why can I see their faces as if they are looking down at me, wearing pleasant smiles? Why do I *know* them!” Aran had walked in after hearing the yells. she stared at him. And he caved. “You know, you sound just like her. And look like her too. You have Dannon’s stern look though,” he laughed to himself. Loreley seamed to real back her temper and looked down at the portrait of her parents on the silver. “That’s why we’re running, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice small. “To keep you safe,” Aran confirmed.

The smell of burning metal wafted up Loreley’s nose as she passed by the forge with a basket of oranges, cherry tomatoes, strawberries, and apples swinging in her hands. She could hear the clanking of metal on metal from inside the forge and many men’s voices. She placed her basket down on the dirt road, stopping to braid her dark hair. An animal’s shriek split the sky a few moments later. No one walking the streets jumped. It was a familiar sound that occurred every day at this hour. Darius and his blood red wyvern landed a few steps away from Loreley. The thud of the landing reverberated through her. “I know I know, aunt Aran needs the basket at this very moment,” Loreley said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She bent down to retrieve the basket, rearranging the apples so that they didn’t tumble out. A hint of a smile showed on Darius’s face when she turned to look at him again. “Need a lift?” Without a word, Loreley stepped tward the wyvern, his massive head leaning down to let her stroke his face. “Have you *still* not named him?” “I usually just call him living Peril but Aran doesn’t find it as fun as I do,” Darius explained with a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “Personally, I think you could shorten it to Peril but ‘living’ adds a little more flair,” Loreley nodded in approval. Darius chuckled. Peril raised his wing as he usually did, offering her an assist to climb on. And as usual, she took it. She stepped up onto his wing, walking until Darius could reach a hand out and haul her the rest of the way. … “I’m back!” Loreley called out to Aran. She placed the basket down on the dining room table and took off her coat, hanging it on its rack. “You’re going to help me with the apple pies, right?” Aran called back. “Sure”

Aran lifted the swaddled baby from Queen Ellowen’s arms. Her old friend said nothing. Dannon’s face was solemn as he watched his daughter be transferred from her mother’s arms to Aran’s. Loreley stirred in her sleep. Her big, golden eyes opened when Ellowen bent down and laid a kiss on her forehead. Loreley worked her arm out of the warm blankets sheltering her from the bitter cold of winter, placing her tiny hand on her mothers face. She looked up at Aran. Her lip began to quiver. She worked her other arm out and reached for her mother, her cries breaking Aran’s heart. Darius kept a stone cold expression beside her, his hand clenched around the pummel of his sword. “I’ll protect her with my life,” Aran whispered, meeting Ellowen’s golden gaze. “You better,” the queen said with such force that Aran found herself wanting to bow down. “Arantaxa Nightingale and Darius Koll, can I trust you to do what is right for the only heir of Thera and Fire Stone?” King Dannon asked, raising his chin so he had to look down on them. “Yes, majesty,” Aran and Darius said in unison, bowing their heads as a sign of deep respect. After a moment of silence, Aran mounted her grey blue wyvern, looking back only once to meet the solemn expression on the king and queen’s faces. “Fly Kaida,” Aran whispered to her mount, kicking her heals against her sides gently. Kaida took to the sky, the darkness acting as a blanket shielding them from any unwanted attention. Darius and his blood red mount took off two heartbeats after Aran and Kaida, following close behind. (Read the prologue I posted before this post for some background information)

Ellowen rocked from side to side gently and slowly, the baby in her arms cooing at the motion. She felt her daughter caressing her dark hair like she always did as she drifted off to sleep. Ellowen found it adorable. She began to sing to her daughter, her voice rising and falling like gentle waves on the sea. A siren’s voice, her mother had said before. The young princess’s tiny hand fell and dangled over Ellowen’s shoulder, telling her she had fallen asleep. She finished the song and practically floated across the room on near silent feet to the crib. She laid her daughter down slowly and gently. She drew in a breath and stayed completely still when the baby’s golden eyes fluttered open for a moment. As quietly as she could, Ellowen walked backwars tward the ancient wooden door. when she could reach it, she pushed down on the handle and let herself out, closing it behind her as softly as she could. As she did, she whispered, “sweet dreams, Loreley,” “You put her down much faster than yesterday,” Dannon, Ellowen’s husband, said from behind her. Ellowen jumped and made a startled sound. “Can you please not sneak up on me like that!” She whispered, hitting the side of his arm gently. He chuckled, the sound warm and welcoming. Ellowen crossed her arms, looking up at him. “Your eyes are so beautiful in candlelight,” Dannon whispered, smiling mischievously at her. “Leaning on flattery and compliments to help you now, are you?” Ellowen asked, returning his mischievous smile. “Slightly now and then. But how else am I supposed to redeem myself after doing such sinful things such as sneaking up on you, my love? We both know that you could easily burn me from the inside and turn me to ash,” he said as he turned and began walking down the short hallway to their room. Ellowen followed. She let fire dance at her fingertips as she smiled at him. “I suppose you’re-“ There was a crash and the sound of broken glass scattering on a floor. “Loreley!” They said at the same time, running to their daughter’s room. Guards were already running up the stairs to inspect the commotion. Ellowen had blasted the door open with a gust of flame before she had run halfway down the hall. She focused on creating a barrier around Loreley’s crib, the golden flames beginning to snake around it. The princess was awake and giggling at the sight of the golden light. Ellowen saw her stand, or atleast attempt, and raise her fingers to touch it. It wouldn’t hurt her. She was immune to her fire. A man wearing a midnight black coat stood inches away from the baby. Had Ellowen been a second too slow…no, she couldn’t think like that at the moment. The guards poured into the room from behind her, their spears and swords poised to kill. In a gruff, unpleasant voice the man said, “My mistress will possess The Fire Stone. No matter what you do, wear you go, or where you send her, she will be found,” and with the raise of an arm, the man was gone in a plume of smoke. Dannon looked at her expectantly, knowing they were thinking the same thing. Ellowen’s old partners would know what to do, how to protect her. Here, she was an easy target. With tears welling in her eyes, Ellowen nodded. “I want every soldier on high alert. Don’t leave any of them un-armed. This room and the rest of the city will be guarded with mine, and your lives,” Ellowen heard the voice of a warrior, and saw the face of a mighty king while she watched him.

The two were the same. The two were so different. Writing, reading, seething, heaving. Writing great. Reading great. Seething in pain. Heaving pain. Despite the similarities, they were individuals nonetheless. One was content and knew what they wanted. One was happy and felt crowed with friends. One was insecure on the inside. One was gasping with anxieties. One was in the middle of a field looking up at the dawning sky. The other was empty and unsure. The other was drained, null, and lonesome in the crowd of friendships. The other was confident despite that; relying on nihilism and their abilities in the field of cynicism and intellect. The other was gasping for something. Something to make them feel purpose. The other was in the middle of the field laying down, digging at the grass, ignoring the rising sun. They were both broken. Broken by the trauma, broken by the betrayal, broken by the lack of understanding, broken by the love. They lacked the sibling love but they had a bond through their experiences. Through childhood, through adolescence, through adulthood, they kept strong. Hiding the desperation. Until it popped.

For as long as I could remember my dad changed into a wolf under every moon. It was quite the site to see until finally I became of age and it happened to me. It was as if the world became this brand new place; the sights, the smells, the tastes were all different. They were more pronounced. You could appreciate them better. It wasn't until my first transformation that I felt it either; The pull. I had this intense desire to follow it, give into it completely. I needed to see where it was going to take me. So when my father went out, I gave in. I followed it and left the compound. I became my wolf self and traveled all through the night. To my surprise once daylight came I was still a wolf. I didn't transition back. "What's wrong with me?" I thought to myself but I kept going. The pull was only getting stronger, I had to be getting close. That's when I saw her. She had my face but her hair was longer. Still, she looked just like me. With a little bit of focus I became my human self again. I had to know her. "Hey!" I shouted after her and she turned around with a shocked expression on her face. "Hey." She said as she hesitatingly walked in my direction. "Do I know you? "No, but as strange as it sounds I was drawn to you." "Like a pull?" "Did you feel it to?" "I did, as soon as I turned 16." "Me too, I turned 16..." "Two days ago." We said in unison and just stared at each other. "I'm moon." I said to her. "I'm Sunny, and I think we should go find my mom." She said to me. I followed her, still in awe of whatever it was that was happening. Her house was small, much like mine and my fathers at the compound. There was a woman on the porch. She looked so familiar to me. Like an older version of me. I didn't have a mother. Well, of course I had one. I just never knew her. Could this woman be her? As we approached the porch we caught the woman's attention. Her jaw dropped and then she started crying. "Are you okay?" I said to her, now standing in front of her face. "My Moon." She said through her tears, cupping my face in her hands. "Your Moon? Mom?" I said, a single tear rolling down my cheek. "I never thought this moment would happen, come inside." She said to me, a dragged me inside. Sunny and I just kept staring at each other. I couldn't believe I had a sister, much less a twin. We sat their as our mother pulled out a photo album. In it were tons and tons of pictures of us with her in the hospital. And there he was too, my father. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Why didn't we stay together?" I asked her. "Oh honey, your father and I were never together. We had a one night stand that resulted in the two of you. He supported me throughout the whole pregnancy and when you girls were born we made the decision to each keep one of you. It was a tough decision but it is what worked for us." "I see." I said. "How did you decide who went with who? What made her more worthy to go with Dad, and me you?" Sunny said. "No one was more worthy. It isn't like that, wasn't. She has the mark of her father a moon on her thigh. You have the mark of me, half a sun above your ankle." We continued our conversation for what seemed like an eternity. Then the darkness came and I wanted to see if Sunny could do what I could. "Could you come with me outside?" I said to Sunny. She followed me out. "Can you do this too?" I asked as I took a deep breath and turned into my wolf form. She laughed and the she took a deep breath in and became a hawk. Then another breath and she became a deer. Then finally another breath and she was herself again. I followed suit and took a deep breath and returned to my human form. "I thought we were wolves? My dad is only ever a wolf." I said to her. "No, not wolves. Even though we can be if we want to. We're morphs." She said back to me.