The wind carried the scent of unfamiliar lycans. The packâs border patrol had already shifted, standing guard. They howled the signal. The entire pack was alert and waiting.Then, through the mist-draped forest, they came.A procession of riders on massive black steeds, their cloaks billowing like storm clouds behind them. Their armor gleamed faintly under the silver moon, intricate patterns of their lineage etched into the dark metal. The symbol of their pack, a sigil embroidered in black and silver, flared in the wind as they rode through the towering trees toward the heart of the Silver Moonâs territory.At the center of them, was her.Valkyrie.She was striking in every senseâlong cascading curls of honey colored hair framed her face, wild yet regal, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance. Her eyes were an uncanny mix of blue and green.She didn't fidget. She didn't hesitate. She owned the space she moved through, each movement was deliberate, each breath measured. Even the
Azraelâs footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors as she approached her fatherâs chambers. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, the ever-present fragrance of bloodwine and the distant murmur of servants moving like shadows in the grand halls.She barely hesitated before pushing open the doors.The room was as lavish as everâdark crimson silk draped the massive bed, a fire burned low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the walls. But her father was not there.A faint soundâthe light splashing of water and quiet laughterâdrew her attention to the adjoining bath chamber.Azrael stepped forward and was greeted by the sight of Valerion reclining in a massive, steaming bath, his head laid back against the edge, eyes closed in apparent relaxation. Surrounding him were five naked women, their delicate hands trailing over his skin, washing him in slow, reverent movements.She didnât flinch at the sight. She had long since stopped being surprised by her fat
The grand doors to the throne room swung open with a deep, resonating creak. All conversation ceased. All eyes turned.Valerion stepped inside first, his tall frame and commanding presence drowning the chamber in an almost suffocating silence. His wine-red eyes gleamed with an eerie light under the glow of the torches lining the vast chamber. Behind him, flanking him on either side, walked Azrael and Raphaelâthe twin heirs to the vampire throne of Blackthorne. Their long, flowing black cloaks trailed behind them as they moved in perfect unison, like shadows cast by their fatherâs towering presence.Azraelâs gaze swept across the room as they advanced toward their seats. She noted the courtâs reactions, the whispers, the barely concealed expressions of shock, suspicion and in some cases, unease."She seems healthy again.""But the mark is still there.""They were gone for two days. Where did they go?"Azrael kept her expression unreadable, her golden eyes cold as she took her seat. Ra
âI found you a new mate.âThe words crashed down on Draven like an avalancheâsuffocating and crushing. His breath left him, his heart pounding violently against his ribs."A new mate?" Dravenâs voice was cold, laced with disbelief. His blue eyes, still darkened from their confrontation, locked onto his mother. "What do you mean? I already have a mate."Diana exhaled sharply, her expression hardening. "I have a friend from the Stone Heart Pack. Her daughterâs mate died a while ago. You two would make a perfect match. She would be the perfect Luna. Sheâs wise and very strong. Her name is Valkyrie."Dravenâs jaw clenched. She planned this. This wasnât a suggestionâit was a decision she had already made."No." His voice was firm and final. "I donât need a new mate because I already have one."Dianaâs lips curled in frustration. "No. Draven you have a curse tied to your throat. A leash that, if it tightens any further, will choke the life out of you. You donât see it now but one day you wi
The tension in the war chamber was thick, an oppressive force pressing down on Draven as the council members stood before him. Their faces were a mixture of expectation and suspicion. He could feel their eyes boring into him, waiting for answersâdemanding them.Diana sat on his chair, her posture poised, her expression carefully composed.One of the elders, a broad-shouldered man with streaks of silver in his beard, stepped forward. âThe pack deserves to know, Alpha.â His voice was gruff, unwavering. âWho is she?âDraven stood at the head of the war table, his fingers curled into fists by his side. His expression remained impassive, but beneath the surface, he calculated every possible move.Before he could answer, Diana spoke.âDraven hasnât told me,â she said smoothly. âNot yet.âThe room fell into stunned silence.Dravenâs jaw clenched. Relief settled in his chest, but so did suspicion."Why is she lying for me?" he thought. "What is she up to?"The elder frowned. âYou expect us to
The carriages rumbled to a stop before the towering gates of Castle Blackthorne, the ancestral fortress of the royal vampire bloodline. The castle loomed in the early evening light, its spires vanishing into the night sky, shrouded in mist. The heavy iron gates creaked open, allowing the royal procession to enter.A guard swiftly moved to Azraelâs carriage, pulling open the door. But before her feet could even touch the ground, something warm and solid crashed into her, nearly knocking her back into the carriage."Gods, Azrael, youâre alive!"Evaâs arms tightened around her like iron chains, her grip desperate, crushing, nearly stealing her breath.Azrael barely had time to react before she was being shaken by the shoulders, Evaâs eyes frantic as they roamed over her as if ensuring she wasnât just an illusion. Her silver curls were a wild halo around her, but more than thatâher hair was moving, tendrils lifting and curling, grazing Azraelâs skin."Evaâ" Azrael choked out, trying to re