LOGIN“Arghhhhh! Stay away from me, you perverts!” I scrambled to my knees on the bed (come to think of it, it was a really soft bed.
The strangeness of it registered somewhere in my mind but I was far too occupied at the moment to think too much of it), and eyed the two (frightened?) women fearfully. “Oh, thank gods, yer awake, Sigrùn!” said one of them. She was a middle-aged woman with wild, tawny hair. I got a feeling she had a tough time taming all that hair because it was all over the place. Her eyes–which watched me fearfully–were deep set and brown. Her startled face quickly turned into a stern frown. “An’ what was all that screaming about? Ye almost gave us a fright, yer highness!” said the second lady. The first thing I noticed about her were her freckles–they were too many to miss. They covered most her face and neck, and there was a generous dusting across her little pixie nose. Her large dark blue eyes were equally widened in fear. Her brown hair which was knotted in low pigtails reminded me of a little child. Had we met under different circumstances, I probably would have thought that she was cutest young woman I’d ever seen. …and did she just call me “your highness”? My eyes darted back and forth between them. I clutched the sheets higher to my chest. “Stay back!” I yelled fearfully. “W-what are you doing in m-my apartment? Leave now or–or I’ll call the police!” They both kept on watching me like I was out of my mind. The cute one looked like she was about to cry. “Yer highness!” she gasped and pressed a hand to her chest as though she had just realized something terrible. “Did ye hit yer head when ye fell?” What? The stern one tutted and said, “We doona have time for this, yer highness. Yer wedding is in a few hours. We have ta get ye ready before then. What, with the flowers and corsets and all–“ “Aye, aye, and don’t forget her hair and dress–they’re really filthy–“ the cute one cut in. “Aye I was getting ta that, Conny, if only ye didn’ cut me off–“ “ ‘Was just saying, only because I thought ye forgot!–“ On and on they argued. I had a feeling that this was something they did often, but I didn’t have the time or empathy to listen to them because right then I was losing my freaking mind. “Stop it! Stop it, both of you!” I yelled at them. They both turned to look at me. “Oh, yer highness–“ “And stop calling me that!” “Oh!” they both gasped in surprise. But I wasn’t done. “Yeah, “oh!” “ I sneered haughtily. “That’s what you’re gonna be saying when the cops come to get you soon. Oh–ho–ho! You both have a handful of charges against you already,” I sang, wagging my finger at them. “Y-you broke into my apartment and–and–“ my voice trailed off as my eyes scanned the room. Hold on. Since when did my apartment look like this? The walls were painted a deep, exquisite red. And they even had those chic flowery patterns you only see in houses on TV. For the first time I noticed that the bed had an elegant shimmery gold canopy overhead. And the sheets. Oh, the pink sheets were just about the softest things I’d ever felt in my life. They felt–and oh God, even smelled– like candy floss! There was a dresser and a vanity mirror. Somewhere across the room in the fireplace, there was a soft crackling of firewood and the heat gave off a heady pinewood scent. It was definitely a far cry from my shabby apartment. I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a…well, it was an outfit. Wide trousers and a shirt. That was the only thing I could make out since I was covered in mud stains from my torso area down to some other parts I couldn’t see beneath the sheets which I was still clutching tightly like a shield. Okay. What was going on here? I raised my eyes and saw that the two strange women were eyeing me carefully as though I were a nutcase. What were they doing here? No, no, I think the important question here was: what was I doing here? My face fell. Oh my God. Had I been kidnapped and now my kidnappers were holding me hostage so that they could ask for a ransom? Well they were out of luck because on earth and beyond I had just twelve dollars in my name. Speaking of which–where was my purse? I was about to ask the women when the cute one whispered loudly: “Oh my gods, Rita. The lass has lost her mind!” “ Quiet, Conny!” Rita hissed. Then she turned to me and smiled faux-sweetly, as one would do to a mental patient. “Yer highness?” She called and approached me carefully. Probably to prevent another scream fest. I eyed her warily. “Sigrùn?” she tried again. “H–how do you know my name?” I managed to choke out the words. “Oh, a nasty fall it was, Rita. She doesna even recognize us anymore!”, Conny cried. “Conny,” Rita warned. “Look,” I began, trying as much as I could to sound calm. “I don’t even know you! I’ve never seen both your faces in my life! I-I was asleep on my bed just a few hours ago and–and–I woke up hearing your voices, only to open my eyes and find myself in this–this strange place!” I rambled. Nothing was making sense. Then I had an Eureka! Moment. Ah-hah! I must have been dreaming. That was the only logical explanation for all this. Phew. I was not out of my mind. This was all it was—just some crazy-ass dream. Any moment now I would wake up and laugh heartily at this strange dream while stuffing my face with scrambled eggs and half-cooked bacon. It would be best to just go with whatever was happening. Besides, they had called me your highness —which, judging by all standards, meant that I was something of a royalty in this strange Harlequin-esque dream (which I had to admit was fast losing its nightmare status the more I thought about it.) They had also mentioned a wedding, but pfff—(I dismissed that thought with a careless mental hand-wave)—we would cross that bridge when we got there. This was a one-off opportunity, to experience the good life of royalty. And besides, it was just a dream, what could possibly go wrong? Pleased with my newfound knowledge, I smiled sweetly at the women who were currently staring at me, open-mouthed. “Ladies,” I called in a singsong voice. “How about that bath? I am feeling quite filthy at the moment.”oh my God!!! we made it to the end, guys! *cue in the confetti and happy tears =) when I first started writing this book, I never could have imagined the incredible journey it would take me on. to my incredible readers—present and future, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this story from the very first chapter to this final epilogue. your encouragement, comments, and endless support throughout Sigrun and Varul's journey have meant the absolute world to me. creating this universe was a labor of love, and sharing it with you has been an ABSOLUTE dream. thank you for loving these characters as much as I do and for riding every wave of drama, magic, and romance right along with them. I hope you loved this ending as much as I loved writing it for you. xx PS: I don’t plan for Sigrun and Varul’s chapter to close here. I plan for us to see a little more of them in Book 2 - FATED TO THE GRUMPY BETA - Elara & Darren’s story. I WOKE UP ENGAGED TO AN ALPHA
tracks that inspired some scenes in this book... in no particular order. enjoy! ;) -“War of Hearts" by Ruelle -“BIRDS OF A FEATHER" by Billie Eilish -“we’ve been loving in silence" by MARO -“Wicked Game" by Ursine Vulpine ft. Annaca -“High Enough” by K.Flay -“Earned It" by The Weeknd -“When the Chaos Comes” by PUBLIC NOISE, Ruelle -“Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Lorde -“River" by Bishop Briggs -“Never Tear Us Apart" by Paloma Faith -“Midnight City" by M83 -“Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez
Five Years Later… PRINCESS SIGRUN OF WINDSMOOR “Sorry!” I called out to the honking driver whose car I’d nearly run into while crossing the road. The morning traffic through Lower Manhattan was a special kind of hell, but as far as I was concerned, it was mostly my own fault for overestimating the transit times on the N train. Five years in this loud, metallic realm had taught me one undeniable truth: an art degree was completely, utterly useless when you possessed zero artistic talent. When the soul exchange had occurred, I had inherited this version of Sigrun’s life, her best friend, her apartment, her wardrobe, and her enrollment at NYU. Officially, Sigrun Parker was now an art school graduate. Unofficially, Princess Sigrun of Windsmoor could not draw, paint, or sculpt to save her life. My first attempt at a portrait had looked like a bruised turnip, and my final thesis project was only passed because the professor convinced himself it was a "post-modern commentary on
SIGRUN Giving birth hurt. Like A LOT. Like hell—or what I imagined hell to feel like. Nobody had warned me. Or you know, given me a fucking heads-up at the very least on the sheer agony that your body goes through while squeezing out a whole other human being. The snowfall had begun before dawn, a thick, heavy blanket of white descending over Pillak Towers that turned the northern wilderness into a sanctuary of stillness. Inside the royal bedchamber, however, the air was heavy with heat, steam, and the charged scent of sea salt, pine, and raw celestial magic. At nine months and two weeks, my body had finally decided it was time. "Breathe, Sigrun. Deeply, princess. Through your nose." Varul’s voice was a low, steady anchor in the violent storm sweeping through my limbs. He was on his knees beside the high four-poster bed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. My hands gripped his tightly, almost crushing his fingers. Another contraction slammed into my lower b
SIGRUN "Varul—" My voice was a breathless rasp as his warm, wet tongue dragged upward, slowly licking from the base of my swollen folds all the way to my aching clít. My knees were parted wide, my hands tied above my head to the headboard. He was on his knees between my thighs, a man saying his prayers. His hands locked beneath my thighs, lifting me slightly to tilt my pelvis directly into his face. A low, gravelly grunt rumbling deep in his chest as his mouth devoured me. The wet, slick sounds of his mouth against my skin were driving me wild. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He ate me with the silent, ravenous devotion of a starving man arriving at a feast, completely consumed by the act itself. His thumb pressed against my clít and swirled in steady, rhythmic pressure while his tongue licked, sucked, and drank me in. My hands strained against the ties holding my wrists bound as the first wave of pleasure slammed into me like a tidal wave. "Oh, God—" I gasped
SIGRUN Painting, as it turned out, was the single activity left in this entire kingdom that did not require a royal decree, three armed guards, and an act of parliament for me to perform. I sat in a padded high velvet armchair in the western drawing room, my easel angled just right to catch the soft, pale sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling glass. The room smelled delightfully of wet oil paints, linseed oil, and the warm, buttery aroma of fresh strawberry cakes sitting on the low table beside me. My bump was a full ultra-size watermelon now. At seven months, carrying a high-powered direwolf pup that treated my ribcage like its personal trampoline, my bump sat high, round, and remarkably heavy against my frame. I was exhausted, my ankles swelled if I stood too long, and my magic occasionally flickered out of my fingers in harmless blue sparks whenever I sneezed. Despite the physical toll, I was feeling good. Energetic, even. But sitting here with a thin brush in ha
“Well, thank gods, ye snapped out o’ it, yer highness. What was all that about?” Rita said, giving me a stern, matronly look. Although she seemed friendly enough, she scared me a little. Thankfully, she didn’t give me time to answer as she bustled forward and fussed with my hair and clothes, all t
SIGRUN I was half asleep when I heard some muffled whispers. I probably forgot to turn off the TV before going to bed. I groaned lazily. I was too comfortable to get up. I was already snuggling the sheets and feeling pleasantly warm. With my eyes still closed, I tried to communicate with the
I stopped just inside the doorway.And stared.“Oh.”It was all I had.Because apparently the North had looked at the concept of subtlety and collectively decided against it.The entrance hall was enormous.I’m talking cathedral enormous.My entire apartment building back in Brooklyn could have fit
The distant thunder of hooves was what pulled me out of my thoughts. The sound built gradually, rolling in from somewhere beyond the high stone walls like approaching weather. Rhythmic. Heavy. A lot of it. Conny, who had been fussing with something in the wooden chest behind me, froze. Then she s







