MasukI was rejected, but soon, I will marry a wheelchair-bound Rogue. "Is this your fiancé?" "Yes, he is my husband, Raymond Black," I introduced. "How shameful, you are marrying this... uh, rogue, who has no clan, no fixed pack, and can't even protect you if attacked by other werewolves?" I stood at the altar, with many people below, as if saying to me: you are such a fool! Raymond said beside me, "Caitlin, if you want to back out, you still have a chance now, you can choose to run away." I shook my head, "No... I won't run away, you will be my husband." I saw a hint of surprise in his emerald, green eyes. ******* I was set up by my best friend to have sex with a strange man, my first MATE rejected me, an enemy weapon ran through my father's heart, pierced my mother's body. My best friend's family stripped me of my ALPHA status, and I became everyone's go-to OMEGA. Until that man came along, Rogue, and he saved me, but... I found that he seemed to hide a lot of secrets, wait, my second mate is alpha king?!
Lihat lebih banyakCaitlyn's POVTime had passed. The world was still quiet—peaceful, even. Not perfect, but alive. I walked through the heart of Eldoria, my footsteps soft on the stone paths that had replaced the battlefields. What once was a place of endless fight had now become a sanctuary, not just for wolves, but for anyone who had lived through the darkness.The grounds were lined with flowers, the scent of earth and life filling the air. The stone paths wound through trees that now stood tall and strong, as if they, too, had found the strength to stand in the sun after so many years of shadow.I stopped at the tree—the one where Raymond and I had first truly connected, where we had both bared our souls to each other for the first time. Our initials were carved into the bark, faint but enduring. The mark of our bond, written into the very heart of Eldoria, glowing softly with the magic we had chosen together.Raymond appeared beside me, his presence solid, steady. We
Caitlyn's POVRaymond and I returned to Eldoria, not as conquerors, not as the chosen, but as two wolves who had learned the weight of love and the freedom it could bring. We had the glyphs of legacy in our possession, the knowledge of the old ones who had come before us, and we knew what we had to do next.We established the Moon Archive. A place of truth. A living library of stories written not by victors, but by those who had survived the wars—the ones who had endured the pain, the loss, and the hope. We invited wolves of all kinds—rogue, pureblood, mixed—to contribute their stories. Their grief. Their joy. Every piece of truth, every memory, every tale would live on here.It didn’t matter who we were before. All that mattered now was who we were going to become. The young ones gathered around me as I read aloud the story of the Prime Wolf—not as a monster, not as an enemy—but as a warning. A lesson on the dangers of fear. Fear of what love could do, how it c
Caitlyn's POVThe cloaked figure before us was silent for a long time. When it finally spoke, its voice was low, almost a whisper carried on the wind. "Love forged in fire can still blind," it said, eyes glowing with an intensity that matched the weight of its words. "Before you lead others into peace, you must face one last Trial of Two."I exchanged a glance with Raymond, unsure of what was coming next, but resolute in my belief that we could face whatever it was together. The figure’s next words, though, sent a shiver through me.“The trial is not a battle,” the figure continued. “It is a mirror walk. You will each face your own labyrinth, built from your fears, your regrets, your choices. And you must find each other in the center—not by memory, but by feeling. By the bond you share."Raymond and I stood there for a moment, the weight of the trial sinking in. This wasn’t something that could be fought. We couldn’t rely on strength or weapons. We had t
Caitlyn's POVThe dreams started creeping back in, and this time, they weren't about the Prime Wolf. No, this was something older, something deeper, something that stirred in the shadows of my mind. I saw ruins—crumbling structures long forgotten by time. I heard whispers, foreign and ancient, speaking in tongues that made my skin prickle. And always, there was a throne, made of ashes and bone, sitting in the center of it all.I woke from one such dream with a sense of unease. It wasn't fear, not exactly, but something close—something that warned me. These weren’t just memories. These were messages. A reminder, perhaps, of something buried beneath everything we thought we had finished with.I confided in Raymond the next morning. He listened carefully, as always, his brow furrowed in thought, but there was no panic in his gaze. "Maybe we need to look at it differently," he suggested quietly. "Not as warriors, but as historians. Let's seek knowledge, not weapons.
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