Leila tosses and turns on the pristine white sheets of her soft mattress, her red and puffy eyes settling on the chandelier dancing to the tune of the strong wind blowing in from the open window.
She smiles bitterly at the ornament swinging above her, it reminds her of own self. She is not in control, she just dances to the tune of whatever terrible music her miserable life is playing.
Two years ago, she was just a regular girl hoping to find her fated mate, to live a simple life with him and raise beautiful children but life has her right now as a hated Luna and a jilted wife.
Tatum promised to come home after dropping Carmela but it’s been hours and he is still with her, probably reminiscing of the love they used to share before Carmela disappeared
She blinks back the tears tugging at her eyes as her chest tightens in pain from the thought.
They aren’t mates. She forgot. She shouldn’t have let his kindness cloud that.
It was his ultimate act of kindness that made him marry her. After Carmela went missing, the pack members turned on her and her mother. Many blamed her for the incident, a few even accused her of plotting it.
The abuse started as verbal and gradually grew physical, to the extent that their house suffered an arson attack with them inside it.
It was that same night that Tatum called a pack meeting and declared her as his second chance mate, marrying her on the spot, even if they both knew they felt no bond.
She runs her hand over her taut stomach. Depending on her decision in a few days, it would remain ever taut or grow into a huge bump.
“No way Leila! I took an oath to preserve life, I will not do it.”
Amanda’s voice carried every bit of seriousness when Leila spoke of the abortion.
“Amanda please, this child will only create problems, I don’t want it,” Leila replied, her eyes coating with tears, pain and desperation lacing every syllable that left her mouth.
“You are asking me to kill the next Alpha of this pack, even if I break my oath and do it, I can never live with myself, it would haunt me for life,” Amanda’s tone was as low as a whisper, her eyes full of fear and worry.
“What is going on Leila? Talk to me. We have all been waiting and praying for this child to come. Why do you suddenly want to get rid of it?”
How could Amanda not know? Everyone in the pack knows -- they are getting a new Luna.
Her poor baby is not being born as the heir of Alpha, but could only be an illegitimate child. Leila can’t allow that.
Leila pursed her lips and dropped her head to avoid Amanda’s weary eyes, feeling a crack in her heart. To Amanda, she had the perfect life, only she knew how far it was from perfect.
“She’s back Amanda, Tatum will get rid of me. I don’t want my child to grow up in a broken home,” Leila replied with a trembling voice and as the words left her lips, the flood gates opened and she could not hold back the tears that streamed down from her eyes.
The pain in her chest felt like a thousand needles prickling an open wound.
“Oh dear…..” Amanda scurried over and curled her hands around Leila in a soothing hug.
“He loves you and I know you love him too. Why don’t you talk to him about it first? You have been married for two years, it has to be worth something,” Amanda replied.
Leila closes her eyes and heaves a deep sigh, standing up and walking over to the window, the heavy wind blowing her auburn hair in all directions.
She failed to guard her heart, and now feelings for a man that doesn’t belong to her are growing in her heart like crazy vines.
Even though they were feelings she could never revel in, feelings she could never openly express to him, feelings she knew he could never return, she felt happy when he returned home and ate with her, when he cuddled her to sleep or chatted with her into the night over pack matters but now, all of that was about to be taken away from her.
But what if Amanda is right? What if Tatum is also in love with her? Could the time they have spent as a couple be worth something to him?
Will he even return home tonight? Will he ever sleep in her bed again? Will she ever go to bed wrapped safely in his warm embrace?
She is not stealing him, or jealous. She is just concerned. He said he would be home. She is only worried about his safety.
She mindlinks him, waiting in the darkness, nervous but also anticipating. She didn't know she missed him so much. Her heart is beating fast as if she was back to when she was 16, having a crush on the handsome yet gentle man.
The mindlink is through, and her cheerful words blurts out: "Alpha--"
Only to freeze when she sees through his eyes--
Carmela is in his arms.
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 twins’ 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 anticipation—some are here to seek love, others quest for destiny, all drawn by the moon’s 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. “Look at that,” 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 Antonio’s 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 Tatiana’s son, visiting for the holiday with his parents. His tiny legs pump furiously, a mischievous grin lighting his face as he dodges Amara’s outstretched hands.“Get back here, you little tornado!” Amara calls, her voice equal parts exasperation and amusement. Kael squeals, darting around a corner, his curls bouncing. He’s fast for his age, but Amara’s 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 coronation’s 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 revelry—cheers, music, oaths—has 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. He’s shed his regal mantle, wearing only a loose tunic and trousers, his silver-gray eyes warm in the firelight.“You’re quiet,” 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 Antonio’s fall, the kingdom gathers for a coronation. The air is alive with hope. Crystal chandeliers cast prisms across the mosaic floor, where roses—white for peace, red for sacrifice—form 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 Luna’s 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 Antonio’s 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. “Enough!” he bellows, silencing the throng. “I demand a wolf duel, one on one, Tatum. To the death.” His voice tremors with menace. “If I win, you, Leila, Amara—all rebels—will die for treason. If I lose, well…” He smirks, baring bone-white, elongated canines. “I won’t.”As 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. “No,” he growls. “He’s cornered. We outnumber him, and without his magic, he’s done. Let’s end this now.” 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 Leo’s words hang in the air, a challenge to King Antonio’s reign. The king’s face darkens, his crown glinting like a warning as everyone watches. “You dare betray me?” he snarls, turning to the other Alphas—towering figures clad in furs and steel, their eyes gleaming with lupine intensity. “You dare to defy me?” 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. “Alphas, end Leo and Tatum. Now!” he commands again. Stillness descends in the crowd. But the Alphas—Ragna, Soren, and Veyra—stand unmoved, their faces look like they're carved from stone. Ragna, broadest of the three, steps beside Leo, his voice a low growl. “No, Antonio. Your tyranny ends here.” Soren and Veyra nod, their silence louder than any shout. The crowd murmurs, shock rip