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The priestesses submit. Even the most steadfast of them eventually break. Their necks all bared to me. Theia hums in gratification. The Immaculate Mother is the first to shift back into her womanly form. She makes no effort to shield her body from me. She stands in her naked glory, no shame on her face, head held high. “There has not been a wolf from the Celestial Alpha line in centuries. The texts say the last wolf of the line waits for their match, which will only come when our true leader, the defender of the faith, is found.” The Immaculate Mother tells me. “Are you trying to say that is you? You are our awaited deliverer?” She says, voice full of doubt. “Impossible!” She studies my wolf. She is searching for something, but I do not know what. I tilt my head trying to understand. She grabs her robe and puts it on. She flips furiously through an ancient book placed on the altar. She abruptly stops, seemingly finding what she was so desperately searching for. “Here!” She shou
“Higher purpose.” I muse. I have read enough religious texts to know that saviors and saints are just martyrs by another name. “May I read the texts, Immaculate Mother?” I ask, seeking clarity. “Once married and sealed to Prince Edward of Fives, you will have access to all sacred texts of the pack. You are not a member of the pack, so you may not read the prophecies and divinations of the Oracles.” She replies sternly. “When shall I become a member?” I inquire. “Once Prince Edward of Fives accepts you within the temple and seals himself to you.” She says. “He will be told of your current success.” She assures. “Your identity as the last wolf of the Celestial Alpha Line will not be discussed until it is confirmed by your marking. You will know my child by the mark they make when they lay claim, A full moon with a sword emblazoned with Selene’s name.” She recites effortlessly. “Was my crescent mark and alpha command not enough?” Theia’s voice rages through me and out of my mouth. A
The ocean has always fascinated me. Dmitry would often carve me sea creatures he would see in books at school. He always felt his birds were more authentic because he was able to see them with his own eyes, rather than the depiction of a creature from another artist’s eyes. I would playfully disagree, always beaming with happiness to be able to run my fingers along the ridges of fins and scales. The dress reminds me of the sea. A deep endless blue, always in motion, tumultuous and wild. The dress has long sleeves and is tightly fitted to my bodice. The boat neck, a nod to innocence and purity. The skirt is full and glides with a swish across the floor. I braid my hair and coil it into a chignon. I look into the mirror. My reflection is strikingly similar to my mother. An irksome resemblance. The similarities are only amplified by my attire. Perfect porcelain doll dress. Perfectly coiffed and painted. The delicate wing of eyeliner and softly pink blushed cheeks. The playfully pink li
My eyes squeeze closed tightly. Small steadying breaths. I stop just short of the main dining room door. I must remain composed. Perhaps tonight is the next trial. Winning the acceptance of the King. A man who I have grown to hate for all that he is and all that he represents. Slavery. Pain. Starvation. Abuse. The King knows nothing of this. He lives in excess. In luxury. A table piled high with food for only a few nibbles to be taken. Far more interested in wine and women, rather than famine and fatigue. “Try to not openly sneer.” Asteria snorts. “Royalty do not care for that. They prefer open and exaggerated adoration.” “I’m not sure I’m capable of that.” I murmur. Remember Dmitry. In the end, it is all for him and his salvation. Him reclaiming what's ours by birthright. The true alpha of the pack. My destiny became forever tied to his the day our father died. “I’m sorry love, but your daddy is gone.” I remember Agatha whispering to me. Her tone was laden with grie
“So this is the girl who the Goddess has paired with my grandson. Come closer girl, I want to have a good look at you.” The King booms from his chair at the head of the table. The king sits at the head of the table. He is old but not at all frail. He looks sturdy and fit, his body sits rigidly in the chair. His robes are made of plush velvet the color of a bright sapphire. Large jewels glint in the low light adorning his fingers and set in his crown. His eyes are steely and devoid of joy. Seated to his left is the queen. She sits silently. Her face perfectly painted and still. Her expression is a mix of serenity and disinterest. To his right sits my mate. His eyes burning into me. I deeply curtsy to the King. “Your majesty.” I say with a bow of my head. I fight to contain my disgust. “Keep your manners and keep your head.” Asteria reminds me. “I mean that both figuratively and literally.” “You are quite beautiful.” The King comments. “Beauty is a measure of worth in the eyes o
“The ancient texts are clear on what it takes to make a successful match, your majesty.” The Immaculate Mother begins. “As you have seen with your very own match, the Goddess smiles upon you and the strength of your line.” She snaps her fingers. Phoebe strides toward the table, she seems to float across the floor, her robe giving the illusion. She reaches within its invisible folds and retrieves a small book, bound in leather and well worn. Gold letters are neatly stamped on the cover— The Order Of The Kingdom Of The Moon. The Immaculate Mother quickly flips through the well worn pages. “The Luna Trials state: Bathed in the dreams of Endymion and the tears of our Goddess Selene, Under the Stone of Eos the future if mated will be seen. A righteous Alpha will be clear under the guidance of the mighty Stone; Be wary of foreboding signs, star-crossed matches made known. Once passed another truth to be revealed,The strength of Wolf cannot be concealed. Only the pure of heart with
“Congratulations.” Phoebe said, as we quietly walk back to my room. “The Goddess truly does favor you.”I never considered myself favored. In many ways I’m lucky beyond measure. At least when I think of Dmitry and the life we have built. How I love him and he loves me. The distance between us is a constant ache, a deep loneliness. I hope to return to him soon. I know he must miss me. The feast carries on with my mate and the King. I was purely decoration. A pretty trinket displayed and then put away. I have a busy few days to prepare for my sealing. “Hm.” I manage to respond. “I give my devotion to the Goddess.” I say more out of religious habit than actual genuine conversation. “My mate did not find my low birth possible to overcome.” Phoebe says quietly. “I was such a small girl. Easily blown over in the desert winds. My parents were born to a rogue caravan in the far reaches of the Western desert.”“Lunar Storm territory?” I ask. “Far beyond the comfort of the pack’s lands.” Ph
Twigs snap under my bare feet. I smell the damp soil and pine of the forest. “This way!” I hear a man shout in the distance. I hear the crunch of the forest floor giving way to heavy hooves. Dead leaves and twigs snapping in succession with each beat of the hooves against it. The pounding rhythm rolling towards me. “Asteria! Show yourself! Your Prince demands it!” I hear a man snarling in the distance. His words make it clear that I have not yet been discovered. I feel so cold.I begin to run. I make my way as quietly as I can although I doubt whoever is out there can hear my steps over the furious pounding of galloping horses. Keep moving. Keep running. The coldness slowly creeps up my spine and then suddenly becomes unbearable. I bite back a scream of agony. It’s as if I am freezing from within. My skin has a purple cast to it. I fear I may freeze before I escape. I can longer run. If I cannot run, I must hide. I see him before I even realize he has closed in. His whip han