Bear me with me my lovelies, things are about to change real soon for our girl đ Thank you for readingâ€ïž
The palace glows under the Blood Moon, its light bathes the open-air pavilion where the ceremony unfolds in an ashen hue. It's a few months after the twinsâ birth, and Tatum and Leila are hosting the sacred rite for mateless wolves to seek their fated bonds. Flames from torches dance, casting shadows on tables laden with roasted boar, honeyed fruits, and spiced wine. Wolves from every pack fraternize, their laughter and murmurs braid with the pulse of drums and fiddles. The air twinges with anticipationâsome are here to seek love, others quest for destiny, all drawn by the moonâs primal pull. Banners of silver and red flutter above, embroidered with crescent moons, and the scent of pine and wildflowers lingers, a tribute to the wild heart of the kingdom. Amara perches on a stone bench near the dance floor, her eyes bright with mischief. Beside her, Amanda leans in, her auburn curls bouncing as she points at a Luna in a garish yellow gown. âLook at that,â Amanda whispers, smi
It is four years after the coronation, the palace murmurs with life, its stone corridors softened by laughter and sunlight. The scars of Antonioâs cruel reign has faded, replaced by scenic blooms of oaks and phoenix flames. In a sunlit hallway, Amara, now ten, sprints after a giggling three-year-old boy, her dark hair bouncing in a loose braid. The boy, Kael, is Kelvin and Tatianaâs son, visiting for the holiday with his parents. His tiny legs pump furiously, a mischievous grin lighting his face as he dodges Amaraâs outstretched hands.âGet back here, you little tornado!â Amara calls, her voice equal parts exasperation and amusement. Kael squeals, darting around a corner, his curls bouncing. Heâs fast for his age, but Amaraâs longer strides close the gap. She lunges, and scoops him up before he dives into one of the many hiding places in the house behind a groove in the wall. Amara tosses him into the air with a flourish. Kael shrieks with delight, arms wide open like a bird, the
The palace of lies quiet, the firebrands dimmed after the coronationâs fervor the night before. Moonlight spills through the arched windows of the royal chambers, bathing the room in silver. A fire that's been running now smolders in the hearth, casting shadows that dance across the cloistered room. The revelryâcheers, music, oathsâhas faded, leaving only Leila and Tatum, alone at last.Leila stands by the window, her sapphire gown replaced by a simple linen nightwear that flatters her generous hips and ample bosom, her hair loose in dark waves. The weight of the crown lingers, though it rests on a velvet cushion across the room. She gazes at the stars, their light a reminder of battles they've won and promises yet to keep. Tatum approaches her, his footsteps soft on the rug. Heâs shed his regal mantle, wearing only a loose tunic and trousers, his silver-gray eyes warm in the firelight.âYouâre quiet,â he says, his voice a mere whisper as he wraps his arms around her from behind.
The great hall of the palace is agog with a celebration. The marble pillars draped in banners of silver and gold. Weeks after Antonioâs fall, the kingdom gathers for a coronation. The air is alive with hope. Crystal chandeliers cast prisms across the mosaic floor, where rosesâwhite for peace, red for sacrificeâform a path to the twin thrones. Nobles in velvet and commoners in their finest pack the hall, their faces bright with belief in a future minus Antonio and his tyranny. Musicians weave an orchestra of harps and flutes, and incense curls upward from holders, sweet and solemn. Today, Tatum and Leila are crowned regent king and queen, stewards of the throne until Amara, the destined Lycan Queen, comes of age. Leila stands radiant in a gown of sapphire silk, her dark hair woven with pearls, and the Phoenix Lunaâs aura is a faint shimmer around her where she stands beside her husband. Tatum wears a mantle of black and silver, his presence steady as stone. Amara who is clad
The crowd's cries for Antonioâs death is a deafening roar. But Antonio rises, his crown askew, tilting to the side, a parody of its glory, his lycan blood burning in his veins. His eyes are wild with defiance, locked onto Tatum. âEnough!â he bellows, silencing the throng. âI demand a wolf duel, one on one, Tatum. To the death.â His voice tremors with menace. âIf I win, you, Leila, Amaraâall rebelsâwill die for treason. If I lose, wellâŠâ He smirks, baring bone-white, elongated canines. âI wonât.âAs a lycan, Antonio towers even in human form, his bulging muscles are a testament to his legendary strength, his wolf form a beast of nightmare. The duel will favor him, for he is a predator born to crush his enemies with every fatal blow he delivers. Leo steps forward, knuckles clenched to cracking whiteness. âNo,â he growls. âHeâs cornered. We outnumber him, and without his magic, heâs done. Letâs end this now.â Ragna nods in agreement, the scars gleam on his knuckles, ready to charge o
The plaza hums with apprehension, both of the crowd and those of the faction that now rises against Antonio's tyranny. Alpha Leoâs words hang in the air, a challenge to King Antonioâs reign. The kingâs face darkens, his crown glinting like a warning as everyone watches. âYou dare betray me?â he snarls, turning to the other Alphasâtowering figures clad in furs and steel, their eyes gleaming with lupine intensity. âYou dare to defy me?â The crowd quiets, the air tight with impending violence. Antonio struts, eyes like firebrands, his shoes picking off prints from the blood left by Camela earlier. âAlphas, end Leo and Tatum. Now!â he commands again. Stillness descends in the crowd. But the AlphasâRagna, Soren, and Veyraâstand unmoved, their faces look like they're carved from stone. Ragna, broadest of the three, steps beside Leo, his voice a low growl. âNo, Antonio. Your tyranny ends here.â Soren and Veyra nod, their silence louder than any shout. The crowd murmurs, shock rip