I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, tilting my head to the side as I assess myself. Biting my bottom lip, I ponder whether I've chosen the perfect dress for tonight. The lime-colored tulle dress boasts draped asymmetrical cutouts and a statement shoulder, complemented by an open sleeve. Marie, my wolf, insists it's beautiful, assuring me that everyone will be dazzled by it. Still, doubts linger.
The Alpha kids have a way of making me feel inferior, even in a thousand-dollar gown. Though they never express it to my face, their silent judgments are evident. It's written all over their faces. However, I refuse to let it affect me. Despite the doubts, I know I'm rocking this dress, and I'll confidently stride into that room as if I own it. Let them think what they want; tonight, I'm showcasing a different kind of strength—one that doesn't crumble under their unspoken criticisms.
“You look stunning, sweetheart,” a warm voice whisper behind me. I glance in the mirror and catch Mom entering my room. Her beautiful blonde hair, a trait I inherited, is elegantly styled with a slick middle-down part and super straight strands. In contrast, my own locks are fashioned in a teased chignon with loose tendrils framing my face. A small smile plays on my lips. Mom always knows just what to say to make me feel better. It must be a mom thing.
"Thank you, Mom," I reply, turning around to face her.
"Gosh, you resemble me so much when I was younger," she remarks, taking my hand in hers. Mom’s gorgeous sky-blue eyes, which I also stole from her, sparkle with adoration.
"I doubt Dad would say the same," I quip.
"That's his business," she chuckles. "C’mon, let’s go. I don’t want your father giving me an earful about how we ladies take forever to get ready." She grabs my hand, and together, we make our way out of the room.
Descending the sweeping staircase, we join Dad at the foot. He doesn’t see Mom and me approaching as he is typing on his phone. Being a billionaire and an Alpha king keeps him busy. He is dressed nicely in a black tux with his raven black hair gelled back.
"Happy birthday, Dad," I greet. He's hitting the big 5-0 today.
"Thank you, baby girl," he responds, pocketing his phone and wrapping his arms around Mom’s waist. Nuzzling into the nape of her neck, he takes a deep inhale, murmuring words against her skin that bring a smile to Mom's face. I feel a tug in my heart watching them. It's been four years since I turned 18, but I still haven’t found my mate. My werewolf college classmates assume it’s because I'm cursed, and with each passing year, I can’t help and fear they might be right especially with my family’s history. I know four years isn’t a lot, but when everyone you grew up with is already mated, you feel like it’s more. But I shouldn’t be thinking about this tonight. It will sour my mood, and I don’t want to ruin the night before it starts. I drive the thoughts away and correct Dad about something.
"Dad! We've had this conversation. You can't keep calling me baby girl. I'm 22 years old now. You should only address me by my name," I assert as we move away from the foot of the stairs, heading towards the ballroom in the castle where Dad’s birthday dinner ball is being held.
"I think I have the right to call you whatever I wish, my dear," he retorts with a smile. I huff and roll my eyes in response.
"Caleb's here," Mom interjects, and I turn around to see my elder brother walking toward us.
"Ready, everyone?" Caleb asks, linking his arms with mine once he reaches us by the ballroom entrance. Caleb is the spitting image of our father, except for his blond hair. The same blue eyes and muscular toned body, along with their shared Alpha king aura that that sends everyone trembling.
"Yes," Mom answers and someone inside the ballroom announces our arrival.
The ballroom stands as a hall of magnificence, elegance, and beauty all rolled into one. Crystal chandeliers adorn the ceiling, casting a dazzling glow across the room. Tables and chairs graced every corner, adorned with the finest foods on gleaming plates. Positioned ahead, a band awaited to resume playing the enchanting melody that had accompanied our entrance.
As we make our way through the regal space, heads bow in respectful greeting, acknowledging our presence. My father reciprocates with a gracious expression of gratitude, extending appreciation to all in the room. Once we reach the center, the live band seamlessly resumes playing classical tunes, and the crowd gracefully disperses, creating a sea of conversations and connections. The air is alive with the harmonious blend of music and socialization, creating an atmosphere of grand celebration.
"Where is your mate?" I inquire of Caleb as we walk around the room and away from our parents.
"With her mom," Caleb replies, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter and taking one for me too.
"Is everything all right?" I ask, a touch of concern in my voice.
“Yes, Aunt Ekaterina just wants to ensure she and the baby are fine before she pops next week.”
“That’s good to hear.” I take a sip of my drink and scan the room. I get a few stares from my peers, but I can’t tell if they approve of what I'm wearing or not, but I don’t care. Some unmated younglings gaze lingers a little too closely on my chest and thighs. I don’t know if I should be pleased; they think my body is worth staring at or insulted they have the guts to stare at all.
“Anything?” Caleb says, drawing my attention away from the crowd around me.
"Nope," I reply. Caleb is asking if my wolf picked any unique scent that would mean my mate is here. Alphas bring their unmated to these events. I had been really hoping to find my mate tonight, but it seems that won't be the case.
"Don't worry, you will find him soon," Caleb reassures me with a small smile. I respond with a tight-lipped smile of my own and down the remainder of my drink. A peculiar taste lingers in my mouth after finishing the champagne. I stare at the glass, wondering if something was added to it. I don't feel drugged, but the taste is distinctly off.
"Does your drink taste funny?" I inquire, bringing my empty champagne flute to my nose. It smells normal. Hmm.
"No, why do you ask?" Caleb responds, glancing at his half-empty glass. I consider that I might be overthinking things. Maybe the burrito I had for lunch is playing tricks on my taste buds.
"No reason. Let me go to the bar and get a refill. I'll be back," I inform him and start walking away.
"Sure."
As I make my way to the bar, I pass by my peers who are discussing the tardiness of the lycan king. Apparently, he is running late, and some speculate it might be intentional. I tend to agree; everything I've heard about him suggests a strong dislike for tardiness. I wonder why he would be late today. Upon reaching the bar, I place an order for my drink.
"Thank you," I say to the bartender as he hands me a glass of red wine.
I move away from the bar, scanning the room for my brother as I walk. Unable to find him, I head toward the back door to get some fresh air. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the cool night breeze, lifting my glass to take a sip, only for someone to snatch it out of my hand.
"A princess like you shouldn’t drink so much," a male voice says from my right. Recognizing the voice, I roll my eyes and turn to face him. "Hello, Blake."
I scowl, wondering what he wants. He wasn't my favorite person in the world, always trying to get into my pants.
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me from head to toe. His green eyes linger on my chest, and he licks his lips, making my skin crawl with disgust.
"You look beautiful tonight, princess," another voice says from my left. I was starting to wonder where his identical twin, Jake, had left himself. He was also my least favorite, following in his brother’s footsteps.
"Jake," I spit out, rolling my eyes at him.
"Hello, princess," Jake smiles, running his eyes over my body.
"Goodbye," I grab my drink from Blake's hand, but he doesn’t let go, causing my drink to spill on my dress.
"Shit! See what you've done!" I curse, anger building in my chest as I look at my ruined dress.
"C’mon now, princess, we didn’t mean for this to happen," Jake says, rubbing his hand on my chest in a foolish attempt to clean the stain but using it as an opportunity to touch me.
"Get your filthy hand off," I slap his hand away, glaring at him. "Don't you dare touch me again."
"Ouch, princess. He only wanted to help," Jake says, and I just roll my eyes at them, walking away before I do something I'll regret. They always caused trouble when I saw them, and now, because of them, I had to change my beautiful dress. I look at the stained fabric as I walk back upstairs, sighing. Good thing I had two dresses picked out for tonight.
"Careful there, love," someone says, causing me to lift my eyes, realizing I was about to bump into them. My nose catches the strong smell of a lycan, but that's not what leaves me in a daze. The handsome lycan that just spoke in a British accent with blond hair and strands fanning his face is smiling down at me. As he pushes the hair back, revealing his greyish-blue eyes, I watch, transfixed.
"Miss?" he says, waving his hand across my face. I blink, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "I’m so sorry."
"It’s okay, dear," he replies, still smiling. I have to say he has such a lovely smile.
"Okay, bye," I say, attempting to run away from him but miss my footing. I teeter dangerously close to falling, but the handsome lycan catches me before I hit the ground.
His warm arms envelop my waist, holding me firmly against him. "You need to be careful, love," he says, his breath brushing my face, sending warmth through me.
“T-T-Thank you,” I stammer, still trying to wrap my head around how I fit perfectly against his chest.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, still holding me in his arms, staring into my eyes. The air around us becomes thick with tension as I continue to remain in his arms, gazing back into his grayish-blue eyes. They reflect the smile I bet is grazing his lips right now.
“Princess, don’t go like that. We didn’t mean…” I hear Jake's voice trailing off as he runs toward us, but he stops short once he sees us. Realizing the position I'm in, I quickly pull away from the lycan.
“Eric,” Blake says, eye-widening upon seeing the lycan. Eric? Is that his name and do they know him, but how?
“Did you do this?” The lycan asks, pointing at the wine stain on my chest. The twins shake their heads, but Eric arches a brow at them. In the blink of an eye, they admit the truth.
“Love, I think I'll see you later. The boys and I need to chat,” Eric says, unwrapping his hand from my waist and walking toward the twins. In another blink, he grabs them, and they're all gone.
“Chat? What are you talking about?” I ask, spinning around, searching for where they went but can’t seem to figure it out. It feels like they just disappeared into thin air.
I remain frozen, confused by what just happened in the last few seconds—the intense encounter with the lycan and his peculiar reaction to the twins spilling wine on my dress. I don't know what's odder, but neither scenario makes sense. A thought roams my head wondering if he could have been my mate and that’s why I felt so comfortable in his arms, but Marie didn’t respond at all to his scent or being close to him. Hmm? I don’t think he is then. Deciding to leave it for now, I head to my room to change
Ten Years Later“Aidan, please stop pulling your sister’s hair,” I plead, my voice strained as I descend the stairs. Aidan, my firstborn, attempts to rip raven locks from his twin sister Aliyah’s scalp.For nine-year-olds, Aidan’s death glare is already perfected as his black hair falls over his face and emerald eyes shoot daggers at Aliyah. “She called me ugly, Mummy!” he huffs. I turn my gaze to my daughter, pushing her dark hair behind her ears. “And why do you do that, Aliyah? You know better than to do that.” Her own green eyes narrow at her brother. “He called me fat!”“I did not—” Aidan begins to argue, and I close my eyes, rubbing my temples as a familiar headache threatens to take hold. I adore my children, but sometimes...The pattering of tiny feet makes my eyes shoot open. “Liam, Lily, be careful!” I rush after my second set of seven-year-old twins, who have inherited their father’s striking features just like their older siblings.“And you too,” a deep, British voice mur
AMELIA Ember's fist connects with my ribs in a blindsiding blow, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through my body as I crumple to the ground. Gritting my teeth, I force myself onto all fours, circling her warily, my wolf form bristling with fury."Pathetic. You couldn't even fight me in your real form," she spits, her words dripping with disdain, baiting me to shift back and risk further injury. I bare my fangs in a feral grin, lunging at her, my jaws snapping for her throat. She reacts instantly, grasping my muzzle in her hands, struggling to keep my razor-sharp teeth from her flesh. Seizing the opening, I rake my claws across her chest, shoving her to the ground with a powerful kick. Pinning her beneath me, I tear at her face, my claws seeking to blind her, to rob her of her sight, and leave her vulnerable.Ember's screams of agony pierce the air as I gouge at her eyes, blood welling beneath my claws. But before I can finish the job, an invisible force seizes my heart, squeez
NICKOLAS I take off sprinting in the direction I'm picking up Callum's scent, my heart pounding with a mixture of rage and anticipation. The bastard knew he stood no chance against me, so he fled, but there's nowhere for him to hide today. I will hunt him down and make him pay for everything he's done.I risk a glance over my shoulder at Amelia, my chest tightening as I watch her shift into her wolf form mid-leap, ready to face Ember in battle. Every instinct screams at me to turn back, to fight by her side and protect her, but I force myself to keep running. This is her fight, and as much as it tears me apart, I know she needs to do this on her own. She wouldn't want me to interfere, no matter how much I longed to keep her safe.Gritting my teeth, I push myself harder, Callum's scent growing stronger with each stride. Before, I wanted to kill the bastard for driving Amelia to the brink of suicide, but now, with the deaths of Uncle Leo and Ava weighing on my soul, my thirst for venge
We burst out of the castle, our suspicions confirmed as an arrow whizzes through the air, aimed directly at Nickolas. He snatches it out of the air before it can pierce his flesh, but the contact burns his skin, the telltale sign of Oak Tree venom. Lord Easterlin is really here, and the battle has begun.Nickolas tosses the arrow aside, his eyes flashing with rage as he moves toward the lycan who fired it, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. With a snarl, he plunges his hand into the attacker’s chest, ripping out his still-beating heart. Blood drips from Nickolas’s fingers as he watches the light fade from the lycan’s eyes, a grim smile playing on his lips. In an instant, he’s back at my side, his hand grasping mine tightly.“Let’s get you to safety,” he urges, his voice laced with concern.Despite allowing me to train, Nickolas is still reluctant to let me fight. I understand his worries, but he needs to realize that this battle is as much mine as it is his.“I want to fight
I rush downstairs, my heart pounding with anticipation, not just for breakfast but for the chance to see Nickolas. Being in the same house but sleeping in separate rooms has been torture, especially with Mom still not trusting him, even though a month has passed since our arrival. She also discovered my pregnancy, thanks to my growing bump and unexplainable morning sickness. Despite her reservations about Nickolas, she's thrilled to be a grandmother again and can't wait for the new addition to our family.The past month has been eerily quiet, with no word from Lord Easterlin, which troubles us all. But we've been using this time to prepare diligently for the impending war. Nickolas is adamant about me staying out of the fight, even though I've assured him I'm fit enough. His men have been training relentlessly alongside our werewolf warriors. Today, we plan to discuss taking the fight directly to Lord Easterlin.As I approach Nickolas' room, a smile spreads across my face the moment I
I tap my feet against the floor, my nerves fraying with each passing second as I wait for Dad to say something. We arrived back in the werewolf kingdom an hour ago. Nickolas just finished pouring his heart out to Dad, explaining everything that happened. He apologized profusely for nearly killing him on his birthday. He declared his unwavering love for me and his desire to build a life together. But Dad remains silent, his expression unreadable as he stares at Nickolas, who stands rigid with tension, his shoulders taut as he awaits Dad’s judgment.When Dad finally rises from the couch, Nickolas and I follow suit, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I interlock my fingers with Nickolas’, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be alright,” I whisper into his mind. Since we have completed the mating process, we can send messages down our bond.“Welcome to the family, son,” Dad says, his voice warm as he pulls Nickolas in for a hug. Relief washes over me, a