Ophelia Voss never expected love – only survival. As the illegitimate daughter of Alpha Kieran, she always had to watch her life being dictated for her. But when she’s forced to marry Rafael Beaumont, the ruthless Lycan King, in place of her sister, she realizes that her life was never truly hers. Rafael hides a devastating secret – Ophelia is his true mate. He can’t let anyone know, accepting the moniker of a cruel beast if it’ll stop her from having the same fate as his dead mate. But betrayal lurks closer than he realizes. A single lie shatters everything, and Rafael rejects her, casting her out. Heartbroken and carrying his secret child, Ophelia vanishes. Now, fate pulls them together once more. But can Rafael earn her forgiveness before vengeance claims her? Or is it too late for their second chance?
ดูเพิ่มเติมI stood in the middle of the field, reminiscing over the miserable existence I called a life.
“Ah”, I groaned as I felt pain surging through my body. I stretched my hand behind me, grimacing at the feel of the fresh cut Lucretia inflicted on my poor back.
“What are you standing there for?!!” she yelled.
I turned, startled and frightened to my bones, as I watched her rushing towards me, a long whip in her hand.
“You bastard child!” she yelled, the reverberation of her voice harmonizing with the lashing sound her whip made against my skin.
“The next time I come out, you'd better be done trimming the lawn, or you'll be in a state much worse than this”, Lucretia threatened as I clutched tightly to my torn dress, visibly shaken, with tears streaming from my eyes.
I spotted Dahlia, my step sister, staring from afar. Lucretia had warned her to stay away from me because she didn't want her associating with a “filthy creature”---in her own words.
I continued trimming the lawn, totally ignoring Dahlia's pitiful stares. Dahlia and I cared for each other when we were younger, but Lucretia seemed to be getting successful at her attempts to turn Dahlia against me.
I heard Lucretia's voice from Father's chambers. She seemed very pissed, so I listened to know what the fuss was about, seriously hoping it wasn't about me.
“You're not selling my daughter off like a priced possession!” she shouted, directing her rage at whoever she was mad at.
“Lucretia, we're not selling our daughter away. She will be treated well over there”, that was Father's voice.
“Why do you want this marriage so bad, Kieran?” I heard her ask.
“We need to seal the King's alliance with a matrimonial bond. This is the only way”, Alpha Kieran, my father replied.
Their tone started getting lower, so I quickly tip-toed to the door leading into Father's chambers and hid behind it…not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.
“You want to put Dahlia's neck on the line to satisfy your political ambitions? What about Ophelia? She is worth nothing! Why not her?!” Lucretia spat.
“She is worth nothing”
I've heard this phrase a lot, but it doesn't hurt less, regardless of this being the thousandth time I've been called useless.
“Exactly my point. No man would want to marry Ophelia, let alone the Lycan King king. Presenting Ophelia as his mate would be synonymous to spitting on his face”
I tried holding the pain I felt from Father's words. It was one thing neglecting your daughter, but treating her as a slave was just plain brutality.
“I can't take this anymore”, I said to myself, tears streaming down my face.
My tears were cut short by Father's voice, “Dahlia, go and get Ophelia here”.
I quickly dried my tears with the sleeves of my dress and replied, “I'm here already”, while walking out of my hiding spot, into Father's chamber.
The shock on their faces as I walked into the room was oscar-worthy. I was surprised Dahlia was with them all this time. She didn't even defend me.
“Since I am such an abomination, why don't you kick me out, huh?!” I asked, looking at no one in particular, my hands shaking violently.
I could feel my heart breaking into tiny bits while asking that question. All the pain I had suppressed for years surged through my body as I looked at my father, waiting for his reply.
However, Lucretia was the one who broke the silence, “We keep you to do our chores, Ophelia. It's quite funny how you haven't realized the little difference between you and the pigs”, she said.
Father didn't say a word. Dahlia didn't look bothered.
“Wow”, I said, looking them all in their faces. For twenty-five years, I had endured their brutality, but I wasn't going to take it anymore. My mind was made up. The world had given up on me, but I wasn't going to give up on myself.
I turned my back to them and ran off. I heard Father call for a guard to go after me, so I increased my speed—running through the fields, past the palace walls, and further away from the pack, deep into the woods.
After what seemed like an eternity of running, my legs wobbled and I fell. Tears started streaming down my eyes again as I sobbed. I hated everything my family stood for.
My sad thoughts were interrupted by the snapping of a branch, causing me to stay quiet and hide in the shadows.
“She is here. I can smell her”, I heard a man say.
I smacked my head as I remembered I forgot to mask my scent. It was only a matter of time before he found me, so I stepped out my hiding place.
“Please, don't take me back. Put yourself in my shoes, please”, I begged the guard, although I already knew it was a futile effort.
For a second, I thought I saw some emotion flash across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came.
“You will do well to explain your actions to Alpha Kieran when you return”, he said.
I walked back with him. It was useless begging. Fighting was totally off the charts, because my wolf was bound. That would be suicide.
We got back to the Silver Moon pack—Father’s pack. I never considered this place my home, because everyone treated my badly here.
I walked into my father's chambers, looking like a soldier who had lost a battle. Lucretia sat at the end of the room. If eyes could kill, Lucretia would have had me desperately gasping for breath just by looking at me.
“You think you can escape this by running, huh?” She asked, disgust plastered on her face.
“I hate you…all of you”, I said flatly, trying my best to mask the fear and hopelessness brewing within me.
My statement seemed to amuse Lucretia as she said, “Alpha Rafael arrives in a few hours. So, save that hatred for your monstrosity of a husband”.
“Dad, please?” I cried hard, veins popping on my head.
He said nothing.
I fell to his feet, desperately asking him to show some compassion towards me, but Lucretia stood from her seat and angrily grabbed my arm, dragging me out of Father's chamber.
When we left the chamber, she roughly grabbed my chin, and looked at me with a hatred so thick I could taste it on my tongue.
“I want you gone, Ophelia. I want you out of this picture. So, you will choose between leaving as the Lycan King's mate or leaving through a means that involves gutting your insides out, which I find even more interesting. Either way, I'll get what I want”, she hissed, after which she pushed me to the ground and walked away.
I looked at her as she walked away, and in that instant, I felt fear—real fear—red, raw, trembling, and suffocating.
The fire didn’t burn us.Not in the way we expected.It peeled. It seared. But not flesh identity.As we passed through the threshold of Valden’s Gate, the air turned thick and golden, like walking through breath made of heat. The ground pulsed beneath each step, sand turning to glass, then back to ash. The walls were molten stone, veined with veins of obsidian that flickered with runes too old to name.Every heartbeat echoed. Every thought felt loud.Rafael kept pace beside me, sweat glistening on his brow. Dahlia walked with one hand on the stone wall, whispering translations under her breath. Seris’s eyes glowed faintly with a red hue, her breath shallow but controlled.This place wasn’t just hot. It was alive.The Chamber of TrialAfter what felt like hours, the tunnel opened into a wide chamber.A circle of flame burned in the center.No fuel. No scent.Just heat. Color. Will.Seven stone seats formed a ring around the flame, but only one was lit by its glow.As we entered, a voi
The snow thinned as we rode south.What began as frost and stillness soon gave way to red clay earth, then dry wind and sun-cracked stone. The transition from Elarion's chill to Valden's burn was not merely physical. It was elemental.The first gate tested memory.The second would test endurance.Seris said she dreamed of flame trees that bled sand, and skies that whispered names into her bones. Dahlia worked feverishly with her maps, trying to match the stars of the desert to the shifting sigils above the Hollow. She muttered phrases in old tongues, drawing arcane alignments in the dust as if decoding something older than language.And Rafael, ever alert, rode closer to me now than ever before."This time," he said, "I walk through the Gate with you."I didn’t argue. This gate would not be mine alone to face.The Desert of the ForgottenWe reached the outskirts of Valden after seven days of heat, stone, and shadow.The desert was a graveyard of broken monuments half-buried statues wi
I emerged from the Gate like a breath rising from cold water.The air hit me like a rebirth sharp, immediate, alive. Snow clung to my cloak. My lungs burned. The frost hadn’t retreated, but it no longer felt foreign. It felt like mine.The others were waiting. Rafael had arrived.He stood beside Dahlia, her eyes wide, her face pale. Seris knelt in the snow with her palms pressed to the earth, whispering something to the ice.Rafael rushed to me. "You were gone for two hours. We couldn’t follow you."I looked at the horizon."I wasn’t just gone. I was elsewhere."The Gate’s EchoBehind me, the Elarion tower pulsed.No longer cracked.Its glass shimmered with gentle light, the fracture sealed not with frost but with choice.The Gate had accepted my answer.And now, its silence was not warning.It was waiting.A new harmony had settled over the landscape, as though even the wind was listening now.ReunionRafael touched my hand, his warmth grounding me. "What did you see?""Versions of m
I emerged from the Gate like a breath rising from cold water.The air hit me like a rebirth sharp, immediate, alive. Snow clung to my cloak. My lungs burned. The frost hadn’t retreated, but it no longer felt foreign. It felt like mine.The others were waiting. Rafael had arrived.He stood beside Dahlia, her eyes wide, her face pale. Seris knelt in the snow with her palms pressed to the earth, whispering something to the ice.Rafael rushed to me. "You were gone for two hours. We couldn’t follow you."I looked at the horizon."I wasn’t just gone. I was elsewhere."The Gate’s EchoBehind me, the Elarion tower pulsed.No longer cracked.Its glass shimmered with gentle light, the fracture sealed not with frost but with choice.The Gate had accepted my answer.And now, its silence was not warning.It was waiting.A new harmony had settled over the landscape, as though even the wind was listening now.ReunionRafael touched my hand, his warmth grounding me. "What did you see?""Versions of m
I stepped into the Gate.The world vanished in an instant.No sound. No snow. No wind. Only an endless expanse of mirrored frost, stretching outward in every direction. My breath fogged, but I saw no sky. No ceiling. No walls. It was as if I had fallen into the breath between moments, into a silence that remembered everything.Elarion wasn’t a place.It was a memory.And I was inside it.ReflectionsI walked forward though I could not say how far or how long. Every step echoed, not around me, but inside me. It was as though the Gate was not simply showing me something it was reading me.As I moved, the mirrors began to shimmer.Each one showed a different version of my life.In one, I ruled the Crescent Court as queen, my enemies kneeling.In another, I bore a daughter with Rafael, our family whole and unbroken.In a third, I was alone a shadow walking the Hollow, never choosing love, never touching fire.There were more.A hundred versions of me. Some joyful. Some monstrous. Some bro
The journey north felt different this time.I was not a queen on a warpath or a prophet heeding a vision. I was something smaller, simpler, and yet heavierA woman returning to the part of herself she had buried beneath the snow.We rode fast.Xander led a handful of Hollow blooded scouts while Seris rode beside me, silent but focused. Behind us, the wind carried no sound but the crunch of hooves over frostbitten earth. Even the air felt muted, as though the world was holding its breath.The ice thickened. The trees thinned.And ahead, the sky changed.It turned glassy.And the light bent wrong.Elarion was close.Arrival at the TowerThe black tower emerged from the snow like a blade stabbed into the sky.Dahlia stood near the stone perimeter, her cloak rimmed in frost, her posture alert.When I dismounted, she didn’t speak. She only opened her hand to show me the ring I’d given her, now cracked down the center."It started last night," she said. "The Gate is bleeding memories."Seri
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