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The Ball
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2026-11-07 21:14:34
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From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess The Ball
My makeup is subtle, just the way I like it. Diamond earrings glitter at my ears, and the necklace and bracelet sit snug against my throat and wrist. My hair is swept into a sleek bun, crowned with the simple diamond tiara from the second velvet box. Julian's mark on my shoulder is bare for the whole world to see. The King Emeritus has agreed to a smaller event than planned, cutting the guest list in half. The ball is in full swing, and it doesn't look small to me. "You look breathtaking, Meine Prinzessin," Julian murmurs in my ear. He looks devastating in his tuxedo. His hand strokes my back, easing the knots in my muscles, and it hasn't left my waist all night. Our pack surrounds us. Livana, Selene, and Aurelia are gorgeous in their gowns, and Caspian, Silas, and Darius look sharp in black tie. My cousins Caleb and Corbin hover close, and I've never seen them look so good. Beckett, the bodyguard who walked me through the snow this afternoon, stands a few paces behind my shoulder
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess Stop Beating Yourself Up
The eight of us look like the living dead when we reach the Palace, covered in blood from head to toe, our clothes torn and filthy. Even the Queen Dowager looks alarmed when her eyes land on us.Caspian, Julian, Silas, and Darius vanish into the office with the King Emeritus, while the women are taken off to get cleaned up and have our injuries seen to.I feel better once I'm washed and changed. The medication they gave me has dulled the pain.I run a hot bath for Julian for when he returns, then sit on the edge of the tub watching the water swirl, thinking about tonight and tomorrow. It's been a long, brutal night. I doubt tomorrow will be any better.I test the water with my hand, then walk out of our ensuite and find Julian's tall, lean, muscled frame sprawled across the sofa. One foot is on the floor, the other hooked over the armrest. A drink sits forgotten on the carpet. His golden hair is tousled, his head tipped back against the cushions, and he's glaring moodily at the glass
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess The Rebels
We travel in half phase, caught between human and lycan. In this form we smell and see far better than we do as humans and keep a lycan's speed and agility, but without the full claws and long fangs we'd need to fight like true lycans. We follow their faint scent past the Royal grounds, into the woods, and down into the valley. Moonlight bounces off the snow until everything looks bright as day. "Stop!" Selene's voice is guttural, her jet-black eyes sweeping the landscape. She knows this land better than any of us, so we follow her lead. "We're getting close to a werewolf pack's territory." "Look," says Livana, pointing at a small house barely visible through the trees. We're standing on a low rise above the valley. The house is about a hundred and fifty yards off, and I think it marks the edge of the pack's land. I can already smell unfamiliar scents on the wind. "Do you smell that?" I ask, sniffing the air. The other three lift their noses. "Blood!" Aurelia snarls. Blood, smoke
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess Dinner
I look around the table. Here we are again in the Formal Dining Room, having dinner with the King Emeritus, the Queen Dowager, the Duke. Lady Seraphina sits among them, awfully quiet. I'm determined to enjoy my meal this time. I lived in constant hunger at the pack house, and I'll never take food for granted. Besides, I'm starving. I loved the run back to the palace from the forest this evening. All eight of us ran together, but I pulled far ahead of everyone, even faster than my mate, who's supposed to be the fastest in the pack. I'm glad that in the werewolf and lycan world, males admire strong females the way females admire powerful males. A bond with a powerful mate makes us stronger still. Needless to say, Julian was extremely proud. The appetizers have come and gone. Now they're serving some kind of roasted fowl, garnished with chopped parsley and drizzled with yellow and red sauces across gleaming china stamped with the royal crest along every rim. I slice into the me
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess The Oath of the Eighth
Snow crunches under my riding boots. The ground, the trees, and the palace roof all wear a thick blanket of white. The sun already hangs low even though it's barely three in the afternoon. A cold wind rises, and the soft brown fur lining my hood brushes my cheek. My cape is black velvet with a deep red lining that flashes with every step. A bodyguard named Günter leads me away from the palace toward what I assume is a stable. He reminds me of Darius: tough, quiet, and stoic. He's the same guard who took me to see Corbin and Caleb at their quarters this morning. I didn't stay long, because Caleb said they had an errand at the werewolf pack nearby that got attacked. He didn't say what it was, and I didn't get the chance to ask. When I got back, Sebastian had my lunch ready and handed me a note from Julian. The Prince wanted me in the riding habit and waiting for him at the stable. Sebastian had laid everything out in the bedchamber: a fitted black jacket, a crisp white ruffled bl
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess What the Night Knows
Later, long after the house has gone properly quiet, after the fires have burned down to embers in every hearth and the last of the staff have finally retired for the night, Julian's asleep beside me, worn thin from whatever that meeting demanded of him. He fell asleep almost the instant his head hit the pillow, one arm still thrown protectively over my waist even unconscious, and I lie there a long while trying to match his breathing, trying to let the day's leftover tension drain out of me the same way it's apparently drained out of him. It doesn't work. There's too much restless energy left over, too many half-formed thoughts circling with nowhere to land, the Queen Dowager's strange little comment, the grim set of Julian's jaw at dinner, the word rebels sitting cold and unresolved in the back of my mind. I slip out from under the blankets as quietly as I can manage, careful not to disturb him, and pull on a coat over my sleep clothes. When I step out into the hall
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