A Prophecy of Crowns and Harmony

King Tobias POVKing Tobias Bancroft gave a smug smile as he looked around the table at the people who were dining with him. He toyed with the stem of his crystal wineglass in front of him. The dark red liquid reminded him of the blood of his enemies, the blood he had spilled in order to get to the position he was in today — King of the Werewolf Kingdom.The long, ornate mahogany table was adorned with gold place settings. The most expensive long-stemmed roses in the entire realm sat in the centerpieces placed at precise spots along the length of the table.His court members were all in attendance, dressed in their very best, in rich fabrics and colors. The women wore exquisite evening gowns and ballgowns and decorated their bodies with glittering jewels. The men wore designer suits tailored in a perfect fit to their bodies.He had no regrets, none whatsoever, about the steps he and his father before him had taken in order to secure their rightful place on the throne. They guaranteed

LukasI lay awake in my king-sized bed. My body was on top of my navy blue comforter, watching as the hours ticked by on the clock that served as my screensaver on my iMac.It was five in the morning, which meant that I still had at least two more hours before Juniper would wake up for the day. Two more hours before I could text her and ask her to meet me. About three hours before I could see her, before I could tell the world that Juniper Costa was my mate, my future luna.Three hours until I could take her into my arms and hold her perfect, tiny, soft body against mine in something more than just a quick hug between two best friends. I could kiss her plump, pink lips, and be able to place my mating mark on the creamy, smooth skin of her neck. And she — she would know that Selene meant us for each other. She would feel the tingles and sparks of the mate bond I had felt for the last two years, since my own 19th birthday.I wish I could say that those two years had been easy for me, b

Drew Wings. Fucking gold wings had just appeared out of my best friend’s back. And I didn’t mean small, delicate, wispy things. I’m talking giant, pure gold wings. They were still beautiful, don’t get me wrong. But they looked nothing like what I pictured when I imagined a fairy with wings. Because it was obvious that’s what she was. Not a witch. Never a witch. A fairy. A fucking Fae. In our pack. Out of all of our pack members, I should have known, should have realized when we were kids, that she wasn’t a witch. Her magic differed from mine, relying more on the elements rather than coming only from inside her and being limited by the amount of power held inside. Like I was. Being only half witch, I had a very limited power level inside of me. Not even half of the amount of power June had, if you didn’t include the power she could draw from the elements. If you included that, well, mine was a drop in the bucket compared to her power level. She reached behind her body, the matching

Lukas I ran. As soon as I could tell she was no longer behind me, as soon as I heard her magically speed away from me, I took off in the opposite direction, shifting into my wolf with no regard for the clothes I had been wearing. And then I blacked out, my wolf taking over completely in his agony at still being unable to claim his mate. I did not know where he took us while he was in control. There was no memory of what he did while we were in that state. I was only aware of the pain that we were both feeling, the frustration and misery at our realization that, for whatever reason, our mate did not recognize us. When I finally regained control, I was at the edge of the training field, where the pack’s weekend practice was finishing up stretches and wolves were pairing up to spar against each other. I quickly grabbed a pair of basketball shorts from the basket placed at the edge of the trees for any wolves who needed clothing after ripping through theirs while shifting, and made my

Lukas After driving for longer than I wanted to in order to get to my destination without having to stop at a hotel, I finally made it to the property of the academy that is run by my father’s old friend and ally, Alpha Philip Edwards. He was no longer in charge of his own pack; after he lost his mate to a rare disease, he handed over his pack to his younger brother. He then opened up an academy with an elite training program for what he liked to call “misfit wolves.” Basically, any wolf of alpha blood who wouldn’t inherit their title — usually wolves who were not the firstborn in the family — or any wolf looking to receive elite training to potentially move up in rank within their home pack or any other pack could enroll in the program. They came from all over. The alpha-blooded wolves w