LOGINThe mate bond was supposed to be her salvation. Instead, it destroyed everything Mira thought she knew. Her engagement to Dorrin, the Royal Commander, falls apart when the bond appears with Alexander, the Lycan prince shrouded in secrets. Soon, dangerous attempts on Mira’s life begin, and the truth is terrifying: the people closest to her are hiding betrayals that could bring down her kingdom. Can she trust the mysterious prince who sets her soul on fire, even if he might be the one holding the dagger? Or will she turn to the friend who shares her bloodline and her past? In a world of dragons, lycans, and deadly politics, one wrong choice could cost Mira not only her crown—but her life.
View MoreMira’s POV
In seven days, I would marry a man who was in love with my sister.
The wind screamed past me as I dove, wings flared wide, the whole weight of the sky pressing against my golden scales. I let myself fall longer than I should have — long enough that the palace spires of Eradrakor blurred into streaks of gold and white — before I snapped my wings open and spiraled down. My claws bit into the emerald lawns of the royal gardens.
Through Asfar’s eyes, I caught the glint of steel from the training arena. One figure remained, sword carving silver arcs through the dusk, every movement precise, unhurried, beautiful.
Dorrin.
My soon-to-be fiancé. The man I had fled from an hour ago, the moment the royal council announced our engagement would be sealed within the week.
Guilt curled hot in my chest. A future queen wasn’t supposed to bolt from a council chamber like a child caught stealing sweets. But when they’d spoken his name — Dorrin, Royal Commander, the suitable match — something inside me had simply cracked, and I’d run for the open sky before anyone could see my face.
Because I had spent my whole life waiting for someone else.
Dragons find their soulmate after their eighteenth year. The bond is meant to be a certainty, a pull in the blood toward the one person made to stand beside you. I would turn twenty-one in a fortnight, and I had searched every province of the kingdom — every border town, every mountain hold — and felt nothing. No tug. No certainty. No one.
And it was more than longing. By the oldest law, no heir may take the throne until they are crowned at twenty-one and have found their destined mate. Asfar carried the royal mark; the crown was mine by blood and by right. But a queen without a mate was a queen with a hollow at her center, and the council would not gamble a kingdom on a hollow. So they chose for me.
They chose Dorrin.
And truly, who could object? Every girl at court sighed over him — tall, broad-shouldered, turquoise eyes and a wild crown of ginger curls, brave and honorable and unfailingly kind. He was everything a commander should be. Everything a king should be.
He simply wasn’t mine. He never had been. For as long as I could remember, Dorrin had orbited my sister Marina, not me — and I had seen the way he looked at her when she played the harp, as if she were the only living thing in the room.
Marina was the easy one to love. Graceful where I was blunt, radiant where I was wild. She wrote poetry and played five instruments and could charm a storm into stillness. I preferred my daggers, my bow, and a quiet corner with a book. When the court imagined a queen, they imagined her.
Instead they were getting me — curls I forgot to brush, no jewels, no patience for flattery — and a husband whose heart was already spoken for. And beneath all of it lay the fear I couldn’t drown: what if Dorrin’s true mate appeared? Because a dragon cannot live torn from their soulmate. If she ever walked through the palace gates, he would leave. Of course he would. So would I, in his place.
My dragon, Asfar, rumbled, impatient. She cared nothing for councils or crowns. She cared that Storm — Dorrin’s dragon — was somewhere close, and the bond those two shared was rare even among our kind. “Go to him”, she urged. I ignored her, shifted back into my own skin, and started toward the palace. I needed Caspian first — my oldest friend, my steady ground. Then I would face my parents.
I never reached the doors.
Voices stopped me on the garden path — low, sharp, the kind people use when they’re certain no one is listening. I slipped behind a hedge before I could think better of it.
My older brother, Valen, stood rigid in his pressed tunic, every inch the firstborn prince: blond, immaculate, gray eyes that missed nothing. Beside him, his wife Elena trembled with a fury she never bothered to hide, chestnut hair slipping loose around her flushed face.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Elena hissed. “Your useless sister is going to be queen.”
“Don’t speak about Mira like that.” Valen’s voice was a blade. “She bears the mark. She’s worthy.”
“I don’t know what curse the gods laid on this family.” Elena’s words dripped venom. “You’re the firstborn. You should be king. And if it had to be a woman — why not Marina? She’d make a better queen than that… that mess ever could.”
I didn’t wait for my brother’s answer. I’d heard enough — and Elena’s hatred had never been a secret. What unsettled me wasn’t her cruelty.
It was that some small, traitorous part of me agreed with her.
Cora was waiting when I reached my chambers, my head maid’s face soft with a sympathy she was too kind to speak aloud.
“Your bath is ready, Princess.” She hesitated. “And the King requests you in the throne room. As soon as you’re dressed.”
Something in the way she said it pricked the back of my neck. My father did not summon me on ordinary evenings.
I bathed quickly and dressed plainly — no powder, no jewels, hair loose and wild as ever. The only thing I wore was the amber ring Caspian had given me on my fifteenth birthday, a promise of friendship I had never once taken off. The palace had long since stopped expecting me to look like a princess.
But when I stepped into the corridor, the air itself had changed. Servants hurried past with their eyes lowered. Guards I had never seen before flanked the throne room doors — broad, silent men in colors that belonged to no house of Eradrakor, standing with the cold, watchful stillness of soldiers far from home.
Foreign banners. A foreign escort. In my father’s hall.
Inside me, Asfar went very still — and for the first time all day, she wasn’t thinking about Storm.”
“Something is coming, she whispered. “Mira — something is about to change.”
I drew a breath, set my hand against the cold gold of the doors, and pushed them open.
Third Person POV Five Years LaterA pack of ten children tore through the gardens of Eradrakor.Hatchlings, pups, witches, and hybrids—their small feet padded softly against the earth, and their melodic giggles filled the warm summer air. Leading the charge was Renata, the natural leader of every mischief, followed closely by her brother, Fenris. Even at five years old, Fenris moved with a gravity that suggested he already owned the world. He was, after all, the child of prophecy—the strongest creature ever born. The "Golden Boy" often received special treatment from the court, much to Mira’s lingering displeasure.Minka and Armina were only inches behind them, trailed by their cousins, Izabella and Isidora—the daughters of Marina and Gabriel. Behind them, the twin sons of Diana and James, Caleb and Luke, kept pace. The boys were naturally faster, but they shared a soul-deep connection with little Izy and Isy and intentionally slowed their stride just to let the girls win. Diana and
Dorrin's POV I looked at the sleeping Mira, gently brushing her cheek with the tips of my fingers. I had been terrified that rejecting Draven would leave a deep, festering scar on her soul, but she had proven once again that she was a fighter. She was recovering faster than I ever dared to hope.Ever since we were little hatchlings, I knew that behind that shy, quiet facade lived a fierce and brave heart. I had always loved her; I thanked the Moon Goddess every day for pairing her with me, even if I had to share her with Alexander. At first, I had viewed him as a threat—a competitor for the heart of my love. But as time passed, I began to see him as a protector and additional support for our mate.She was ours. Over time, I learned to respect and understand Alexander; I even forgave him for the poor choices he made at the beginning of our journey. Since the day I marked him as well, I could feel his emotions rolling through our own bond. It wasn't a sexual pull, but something more so
Mira’s POVRejecting Draven had left me feeling hollow. For weeks, I feared I would never be able to fill the void created by that severed bond.But as time passed, life moved forward. I was officially crowned as the Werewolf Queen, and my workload increased tenfold. I didn't train as obsessively anymore; instead, the quadruplets took up every spare second I wasn't dedicated to my royal duties.Marina, Diana, and I were in the nursery, watching the babies play.“They’re quadruplets, yet they're so different in appearance and personality,” Diana murmured, shaking a little rattle shaped like a turtle for Armina. Armina’s turquoise eyes followed the toy, and she giggled as she reached for it. She was the quietest and most cheerful of the four.“Don’t forget they have different fathers,” Marina added, cradling little Minka, who was the most cuddly and demanded the most attention.I sighed softly. “I’m just happy that Dorrin and Alexander don't see it that way. They love all the children e
Mira’s POV He stopped less than a meter away, his knees hitting the marble with a heavy thud as he suddenly lowered himself into a bow. My heart was drumming a frantic, irregular rhythm against my ribs. He did not look like the cruel, arrogant king who had haunted my nightmares; he looked like a grovelling mate, desperate for a sliver of his lover’s attention. What kind of game was he playing now? “Kill me if you wish, but please... let me speak first,” he said, his voice cracking as he extended the dagger toward me. It was Glossin steel, cold and unforgiving. I could finish him right here, right where he knelt, effortlessly. But my hand wouldn't lift. I hesitated, caught in the gravity of his presence. I could feel the heavy, rapid breathing of Alexander and Dorrin beside me—I saw the way Alexander’s eyes narrowed into slits and how Dorrin’s chin lifted in defiance. They both despised my third mate from the bottom of their hearts for every scar he had carved into my soul. “Mir
Mira’s POVMy babies were sleeping peacefully in their cradles—a rare moment of peace. Asfar purred proudly in my head. I would die of exhaustion if my mother and Marina didn't help me with the kids. Dorrin and Alexander were trying their best to help as well, but as kings, they already had a lot o
Alexander’s POVI stormed out of the room before I could say or do something I would regret. My blood was boiling, the pain of betrayal was aching in my chest, sharp and strong. My head felt like splitting from piercing pain.Mira was trying to mindlink me, but I blocked her.I needed air, to move,
Mira's POV I stirred, feeling the soft touch of the bedsheets, comforted and wrapped in the soothing scent of my mates. Happy. Safe. Free.“I’ll fucking kill him,” Alexander roared.“Lower your voice,” Dorrin shushed him. “Don’t wake up Mira.”“He dared to forcefully mark and mate her. He doesn’
Mira’s POV “I just wanted to look for some water and food before going to sleep,” I lied, forcing a smile onto my lips. “Midnight cravings, you know.” I felt my cheeks heat immediately, shame curling in my stomach. I hated how easily the lie came—and how easily he saw through me anyway. “Oh,






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