“A scarred slave is no mate for a Lycan King." Used, discarded, and carrying the Lycan’s unborn child, Thalia's nightmare deepens when she overhears a chilling plan: after she gives birth, they'll take her baby and cast her out. But before she can escape, tragedy strikes and she barely escaped with her life. Saved by a mysterious stranger, Thalia recovers with vengeance burning in her heart, but what she never expects is to find herself in the center of a dangerous web of desire and political intrigue and now she must flee again and find out the truth about her identity and her mother’s death. But fate has other plans On the run, Thalia stumbles upon a familiar figure in the forest—Lycan Alaric, lying in a pool of his own blood, clinging on to his dear life. The mate who destroyed her is now at her mercy. Caught in a dilemma, Thalia must decide to put her hatred aside for her quest for justice. As she navigates her path full of danger, betrayals and unexpected alliance. Can Thalia find love and redemption, when her mate reappears, seeking to claim her?
view moreThalia’s POV: The moment Lillian’s door shut behind me, I was swallowed by the night. I pulled my cloak tighter, the fabric rough against my fingers as I kept my head low, my face hidden. The road to the castle stretched before me—empty, shadowed, too quiet. My breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, each step quicker than the last. *Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.* I should have stayed. Lillian had offered me shelter, but no—I’d been too proud, too desperate to flee before more rumors could take root. “She’s a witch." “Black magic." The whispers clung to me like smoke. I wasn’t a witch—I knew that much—but what had happened today? That hadn’t been me. It had to be the girl. Lillian’s daughter. And now, because I’d been reckless enough to intervene, I was paying for it. A gust of wind howled through the trees, snapping at my hood like greedy fingers. I yanked it back down, my hands trembling. *Just get to the castle. Pretend none of this happened.* But th
Back at The Royal Wraith Pack: Princess Elara’s POV: The royal court hummed with quiet deliberation as I sat at the round table with the elders, reviewing tax revisions for the coming season. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the stone walls, and the scent of aged parchment and ink lingered in the air. And just then— The heavy oak doors groaned open. All eyes snapped toward the interruption. A guard stood at the threshold, his armor slightly crooked, breath uneven as if he’d sprinted here. He didn’t even knock. How dare he? “Elders,” he greeted with a stiff bow before his gaze flickered to me. “My princess.” “I believe you’ve lost your manners.” I exhaled sharply through my nose. “Or is it that you fail to recognize the weight of matters being discussed here?” He flinched. “I-I apologize—” “Get out,” I flicked my wrist dismissively and turned back to the scroll before me. “Forgive me, Princess—but the law demands I speak
Alaric’s POV: I had just finished talking with the head guard. We agreed to send a search party into the forest to look for Thalia. The guards had turned the whole pack upside down, but they still couldn’t find her. So now, we had no choice but to check the woods. She couldn’t have gone far. I walked into my room and closed the door, trying to clear my head. But I couldn’t stop thinking. I paced back and forth before deciding to take a shower, hoping it would help. When I got out, I pulled on some shorts and lay down, bare-chested, staring at the ceiling. But my mind wouldn’t shut off. At first, I was furious that Thalia had lied to me. But worse than that—she ran instead of facing me. One thing was certain: she couldn’t hide forever. I would find her. And when I did, she’d regret it. I had thought about using the mate bond to track her. If I went with the search party, maybe I could sense her. But there was one problem. The bond was gone. She’d
Meanwhile at Alaric’s Pack.. While Mira had successfully smuggled Silas out of the pack, Valerie remained behind, scheming. The chaos around her was nothing but noise—background static to the real prize: her coronation. And she would make it happen. *Soon.* Valerie’s POV: I stormed out of my father’s quarters, my vision blurred with furious tears. I had gone to him for guidance—for reassurance—but instead, he had given me a weapon. His words slithered through my mind, venomous and slick: *"You’re a woman, Valerie. A beautiful one. Use that. Make him want to speed this up."* My hands clenched at my sides as I strode down the dimly lit hallway, my breath ragged. The implication was clear. I was nothing more than a bargaining chip, a tool to be wielded. But if that was the game they wanted to play, then fine. I would play it better than any of them. Slamming my chamber door behind me, I tore off my red cloak and flung it onto the hanger. My reflection in th
Thalia’s POV: “Who are you?” The man standing beside the injured girl demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion. I didn’t answer—just stared at my bloodstained hands, my mind racing. The girl’s mother gaped at me in disbelief before dropping to her knees beside her daughter. “Julia, are you okay?” *Julia.* So that was her name. “I feel… better, Mama,” Julia murmured, her voice weak but steadier than before. “The pain… it’s gone.” “But how?” Her mother’s gaze flicked from Julia to me, wide with confusion—and something else. Fear? Awe? I swallowed hard. “I don’t… I don’t know,” I admitted, holding up my stained palms as if they held answers. Behind us, murmurs spread through the gathered crowd. “Black magic,” one muttered. “She’s a witch,” another hissed. I whipped around, still on my knees, glaring at the man who’d spoken. “I’m not a witch.” “Then explain what just happened!” “I can’t!” I snapped, pushing to my feet. The crowd recoiled as i
Meanwhile, At the Royal Wraith Pack.. Thalia’s POV: I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains, rousing me from my sleep. I blinked, disoriented for a moment, before remembering where I was. *The Royal Wraith Pack.* Far from Alaric. Far from the pain. A fresh start. A new life. The thought sent a thrill through me, and I couldn’t help but squeal softly into my palms. No more chains—literal or invisible. No more being treated as less than nothing. Here, I was at peace. I pushed myself out of bed and crossed the room, flinging the curtains wide. Golden sunlight bathed my face as I inhaled the crisp morning air, savoring the unfamiliar scents of this foreign land. It smelled of pine and dew, of hearth-smoke and earth. Nothing like the stifling bitterness of Alaric’s pack. The mirror in the bathroom caught my reflection as I splashed water on my face. My fingers traced the jagged scar running down my cheek, a permanent reminder of my mistakes. *If only I
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