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Nyma, the Privileged Luna, never imagined her life would be dictated by an unbreakable mate bond. Raised in a werewolf pack where loyalty to a single mate was sacred, she struggled to accept her fate with Prince Adrain—the future Lycan King. Six months into their marriage, Nyma has balanced the weight of leading her pack and navigating the treacherous politics of the Lycan royal family. She sacrificed her claim to the throne, choosing freedom over power, earning the scorn of her mate’s family—especially Second Prince Lucian, the brother who still dares to claim her as his second mate. On the night of her baby shower, everything shatters. Secrets unravel, betrayals surface, and Nyma walks in on the ultimate heartbreak—her mate entwined with the one woman from his past he swore meant nothing. Now, with her heart in pieces and her child’s future at stake, Nyma must decide: fight for a bond that has only brought her pain or break free from fate and forge her own destiny? Love may be fated—but trust is earned. And Adrain has just lost hers. She survives. And then she takes everything. Left for dead, Nyma rises from the ashes with a single purpose—to reclaim the legacy that was stolen from her and make the ones who wronged her choke on their own betrayal. The young Luna was never meant to be a pawn in Lycan politics, and she sure as hell won’t be a forgotten footnote in Adrian’s story. She builds her own pack, her own empire. And when the so-called King and his family come crawling, desperate for the very heir they discarded? Oops. Her bastard just took their legacy.
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Oops, My Bastard Just Ate Your Legacy! Elder Rites Have Consequences
Just moments later, The Ravengale left, the courtroom doors opened again. The hour was waning. Moonlight filtered through the stained-glass high windows, bleeding across the obsidian floor like spilled milk and blood. The sacred flames along the chamber walls had dwindled to weary embers, their glow too dim to chase off the dread that now clung to the royal court like the scent of burned offerings.And then, silence deepened as High Priestess Ysara entered, slow and deliberate, the soft chime of her silvered staff echoing through the hollow chamber like a death knell.She was robed in twilight and veiled in moonstone, a living relic of the Goddess herself. She bore the scent of sacred incense, and yet there was soot on her hem—a sign she had come straight from a rite most dire. Despite her age, no weakness marred her step. Her eyes were like mirrors to eternity, sharp enough to unmake illusions and lay bare the soul beneath.She paused at the foot of the dais, and though she bowed, it
Last Updated : 2025-05-20Oops, My Bastard Just Ate Your Legacy! She Will Kneel
The air smelled of old blood and lavender oil—one to remind visitors of strength, the other of civility. That was the Lycan way. Brutality in silk.The gates opened with an ominous creak as Alpha Cedric, cloaked in Ravenflock black, stepped through with his delegation—Luna Elara, ever-graceful even under scrutiny; the Beta Male, silent and watchful; and Beta Female Amelia, her gaze sharp as the twin daggers hidden beneath her cloak.They were met by a wall of silver-armored guards. No greeting. No fanfare.Just the cold stare of Royal Beta Theon Drest, standing at the foot of the great staircase like a wolf waiting to pounce."Alpha Cedric," he said, voice smooth as glass drawn across bone. "You came.""I was summoned," Cedric replied, voice cold steel. “Not invited.”A flicker of distaste crossed Theon’s face. "Some would have called that a mercy."They were led into the Summoning Hall—massive, domed, echoing with ancestral judgment. Golden banners draped the stone columns. Lycan elde
Last Updated : 2025-05-20Oops, My Bastard Just Ate Your Legacy! They Just Learned The Hard Way
Two Hours Later – Royal Investigation Council ChamberThe torches burned low in the stone chamber, casting long shadows over the obsidian war table where the kingdom’s highest tacticians and magical scholars sat in grim silence.“It wasn’t just a mark,” muttered the War Caste’s commander, fingers gliding over the magical traces left behind on the prince’s skin—now etched into the blood-glass sigil projected above the table. “She laced it with bloodruned fury. Precision-carved. Not a rage mark—this was controlled. Ritualized.”He looked up, voice colder now.“She burned it through his soulbond. That scar won’t fade. Not even in wolf form. The prince will carry it—forever.”The silence cracked as a younger Second Lycan, Prince Lucian leaned forward, pale and shaken. “Then the stories are true. He’ll be knownby it. The mark of betrayal. The… faithless prince. Every pack, every court, will see it. No magic can veil it now.” To see his elder borther like this was really a shock but what sh
Last Updated : 2025-05-17Oops, My Bastard Just Ate Your Legacy! The Lycan Queen's Wrath
Three Days Ago – Royal Healer's Hall, SoleMoon Citadel:The scent of blood, crushed lavender, and shame hung thick in the marble air of the royal healer’s wing. The injured were brought in on stretchers, surrounded by the flurry of healers and royal guards—yet none dared speak above a whisper.Because one of the injured was a Lycan Prince Adrain. And the other was Lira, daughter of the Lycan King’s Beta.Two of most trusted counsil members stood over the Prince's broken body, silver-tipped claws unsheathed as the healers worked.Prince Adrain lay shirtless and silent on the obsidian healing slab, the white light of rune-fires flickering across his sweat-slick chest. But it wasn’t his torn muscles or cracked ribs that drew the hush, his once-perfect face now marred by an ugly, seared brand across his left cheekbone—a jagged, deliberate mark shaped like a crescent moon with three slashes through it.It was the mark. A burn, shaped like a twisting, curling rune, still faintly glowin
Last Updated : 2025-05-17
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