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Chapter fourty nine
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2025-01-25 00:52:00Edward:
The royal entourage stood ready outside the palace, the sleek, black cars gleaming under the early morning light. Guards lined the pathway, their expressions blank, their movements precise. I strode toward the lead vehicle, my steps measured and my thoughts precise. Behind me, Ethan trailed, mumbling under his breath. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, his tone dripping with disdain. “I shouldn’t have to go anywhere. Especially not there.” Beside him, Freya clung to his arm, her tear-streaked face turned up to him in desperation. “Ethan, you don’t have to go. Please, don’t go. This isn’t safe. This isn’t right.” I turned back to them, fixing Freya with a firm gaze. “It must be done. You know that. Ethan’s presence is crucial, and so is mine.” Ethan sighed heavily, shaking off her grip. “I’ll be back, Freya. Stop making a scene.” Reluctantly, she stepped back, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handker
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Freya: I stood on the porch, my nails digging into the wooden railing as I stared at the fading trail of the royal entourage. Ethan was gone, and with him went the fragile control I’d painstakingly built. The thought of him traveling to the Vampire Kingdom churned my stomach, a mix of rage and dread clawing at my insides. He was going to see her—Imogen. The infamous Vampire Princess with beauty so captivating it was said to leave men breathless. And Ethan? He was weak. A man who could barely resist a fleeting temptation, let alone the allure of a creature like her. I paced back and forth, my gown swishing against the ground as I tried to keep my thoughts from spiraling. But it was no use. The image of her—perfect, radiant, unattainable—burned in my mind. What if he fell for her? What if he forgot everything we had, everything we’d built? The porch creaked beneath my heels as I turned sharply. “No,” I hissed to myself. “He won’t. He can’t.” But I knew better. I’d heard t
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Ethan: The room was an inferno of indulgence. Haunting melodies filled the vast hall, a blend of violins and guttural chants that vibrated through the air, sinking deep into the bones. Flickering crimson lights bathed everything in a surreal glow, amplifying the setting. Vampires and werewolves mingled in precarious harmony, but the tension was like a taut string waiting to snap. My nose crinkled at the metallic tang of blood that hung heavy in the air. Goblets of it were passed around freely, their deep red contents swirling like forbidden nectar. Vampires sipped greedily, their lips stained with the essence of life. Some even dipped their fingers into the liquid, tracing languid patterns on the pale skin of their companions. It was revolting, barbaric, and I struggled to keep my face neutral. Beside me, Edward appeared completely unaffected. He was seated with the same regal ease he brought everywhere, his golden goblet filled with what looke
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Lianna: The weight of the pack's affairs bore down on me the moment Edward left. The council elders sat around the grand hall, their stern faces scrutinizing me as though searching for a crack in my composure. I kept my back straight, my gaze unwavering, though my nerves coiled tightly within. This wasn’t a role I had ever wanted, but it was one Edward had entrusted me with. And I wouldn’t let him down. Ingrid stood at my side, her presence a steady pillar of strength. When I faltered, her subtle nods reassured me. When someone interrupted me or questioned my authority, she stepped forward with that sharp tongue of hers, silencing them with a mix of wit and intimidation. “Luna Lianna has spoken,” Elder Aldric declared firmly when one of the younger wolves tried to argue against my decision regarding resource allocation. His defense of me was surprising, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was rooted in respect. The elders’ loyalty lay with Edward, and for now, that loyalt
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Edward: The air in the dim corridor was thick with the scent of damp stone and faint traces of aged blood—a reminder of where we were tonight. My steps were cautious, measured, as I followed the shadow ahead of me. The woman in the crimson dress moved with practiced grace, her every gesture a calculated performance meant to deceive anyone watching. To them, she was just another indulgence of mine, a concubine caught by my charms and unable to leave my side. If only they knew. She turned into a secluded alcove, waiting for me to catch up. Her golden eyes gleamed in the flickering torchlight, her lips curving into a wry smile. “You’re late,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the silence. “You’re impatient,” I retorted, scanning the corridor behind us to ensure we weren’t being followed. “And reckless. Someone could have seen you waiting here.” “Relax, Edward. You play your part, and I’ll play mine.” Her confidence grated on my nerves, but I couldn’t afford to l
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Freya: The maids’ giggles grated against my nerves as I stood at the edge of the kitchen. I’d asked for tea—just tea—and yet here they were, dawdling, whispering, throwing glances at me as though I were some ridiculous figure of amusement. One of them, a girl with an unremarkable face but too much confidence for someone of her stature, turned to me with a smirk. “I’m sorry, Lady Freya. We’re a bit behind. Perhaps you could fetch it yourself?” The audacity of her words hit me like a slap. My nails dug into my palms as I forced myself to remain composed, but the boiling anger beneath my skin was almost too much to contain. “Perhaps you could fetch me your resignation,” I spat, my tone venomous. She merely shrugged, her smirk widening, before turning back to her work. I felt the air around me shift—other maids pausing, watching, waiting for my reaction—but I turned on my heel and stormed out. If they thought they could challenge me, t
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Lianna: The morning light filtered through the curtains of my chambers as Ingrid entered, balancing a tray with her usual grace. She set it down on the table beside me, the porcelain teapot steaming gently. I inhaled deeply, my body immediately relaxing and going fully awake. “Chamomile and lavender,” she said, pouring the golden liquid into a delicate cup. “Calms the nerves, sharpens the mind. Perfect for someone who has to deal with the drama of the court.” I smirked, wrapping my hands around the warm cup. The tea’s floral aroma wafted up, soothing my senses as I took a careful sip. The bitterness of the chamomile balanced by the subtle sweetness of the lavender made for a comforting combination. Ingrid flopped into the chair across from me, her sharp blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Speaking of drama,” she began, “you’ll never guess what I heard this morning.” I raised an eyebrow, already bracing myself for one of
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Lianna: The open fields stretched endlessly before us, bathed in the warm amber of the setting sun. The horses’ hooves beat a steady rhythm against the earth as we rode, the cool breeze brushing against my face and tousling my hair. I felt alive, free. Alistair, riding beside us, seemed calmer now. The tension that had clung to him earlier had eased, but there was still a shadow in his eyes, one I couldn’t ignore. Ingrid, as blunt as ever, turned to him with a knowing smirk. “So, Alistair,” she began, her voice dripping with mischief, “care to tell us why Freya was hanging around you earlier?” He stiffened visibly, the reins in his hands tightening. “Nothing’s going on,” he said quickly, his voice a little too defensive. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, glancing at me as if to say, See? Something’s definitely up. I chose not to press him further. Instead, I let the silence settle, focusing on the scenery around me. The vast fields were dotted with wildflowers swaying gently in
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Lianna: I took my time, more than usual, as I prepared for dinner. It wasn’t just any evening—it was Edward’s first night back, and I wanted to look every inch the Luna Queen I had become. My reflection in the ornate mirror revealed my determination as I reached for the rosewater-infused cleansing oil, massaging it gently into my skin. The delicate floral scent calmed my nerves, grounding me in the moment. After rinsing, I applied a light cream with a faint shimmer that gave my skin a subtle glow, like the moonlight itself had kissed me. My hair came next—long, cascading waves that I pinned delicately with golden combs adorned with emeralds, matching the deep green gown I had chosen for the evening. The dress was a masterpiece, crafted from silk that clung to my figure before flowing into an elegant train. Golden embroidery, delicate as spider silk, traced the bodice and cuffs, giving it an ethereal quality. I adjusted the plunging neckline, knowing it was daring but tasteful
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Edward: I didn’t think I had ever had a good time like that in my entire goddamn life. Seated on my ridiculous golden throne, which, by the way, I had told them was unnecessary but they had insisted like it was some sacred tradition, I watched the sea of smiling faces parading before me. Everyone looked genuinely happy to see me, like they were actually proud, and for the life of me, I couldn’t even pretend to be my usual sarcastic self. The grin splitting my face was impossible to contain. It felt ridiculous, too wide, too bright, but hell if I cared. My chest was warm, my fingers were drumming lightly against the armrest in time to the soft thrum of music weaving through the air. The scent of fresh flowers... roses, gardenias, something Lianna had picked, I was sure drifted through the hall, blending with the mouth-watering smell of pastries and meat pies and the sharp tang of aged wine. A few of the Alpha Kings I was c
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Edward: “How the hell is she able to be this bubbly after she almost died yesterday?” Harvey muttered, leaning forward against the iron railing of the gallery. I stood beside him, arms loosely folded, my gaze drawn down to where Lianna moved like a wildfire in silk. She was everywhere at once, barking out orders to the kitchen staff, laughing too loudly at something one of the guards said, twirling away from an apprentice who nearly dropped a tray of wine glasses at her feet. Her hair whipped behind her like a banner, her cheeks flushed with life. She looked damn good doing it too. She looked alive, radiant, and unstoppable. And that made me damn rock hard. I felt my mouth curl into a slow, uncontrollable smile. “She’s Lianna,” I said simply, voice low, almost reverent. “Death’s scared of her, not the other way around.” Harvey shook his head with a chuckle, but his eyes stayed trained on her too, like he couldn’t help himself. Ingrid’s heels clicked ag
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Edward: The podium felt colder than it should have. Maybe it was just me. Hell, maybe it was the goddamn nerves humming under my skin, crackling through my bloodstream like I’d swallowed a live wire. I adjusted the heavy folds of my coat, brushing the fabric smooth with my palms. The leather was stiff under my fingertips, polished to perfection, but it didn’t ease the tension straining my spine. Harvey was a silent shadow at my back, his presence a steady weight between my shoulder blades. Good. I needed that anchor right now. The crowd before me shifted, a sea of bodies cloaked in muted colors and apprehensive whispers. I stepped forward, feeling the wood of the podium creak beneath my boots, and cleared my throat, the sound slicing through the low murmur of voices. "Good morning," I began. It was the kind of voice that made people lean in even if they didn’t trust a damn word coming out of your mouth. "I want to start by apologizing for dragging you all out here toda
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Lianna: I adjusted Edward’s collar, tugging it with the kind of care a surgeon might use when slicing open a patient. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, and he stared at me like I’d just announced I was going to crown myself Empress of the Seven Kingdoms. "You know," he muttered, a lopsided smirk tugging at his mouth, "you’re acting like this is some royal wedding, not just a boring speech in the town square." I laughed under my breath, smoothing down the front of his jacket with a few sharp swipes. The fabric was rich under my palms. It was soft, expensive, and a little smug, just like him. "Oh, it is a royal wedding, Eddie," I said sweetly. "Between you, destiny, and whatever chaos we manage to unleash today." He rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might actually fall out of his head. "Should’ve known you were secretly trying to become an influencer," he grumbled. "Just this once," I quipped, giving the lapels one final, overly dramatic flourish. "I
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Freya: I was deep in the middle of a very satisfying drea. It was a dream about me on a deserted island, no nagging voices, no endless plans for world domination, when the knocking started. It was persistent enough to rattle the door on its hinges. I groaned into my pillow, dragging the blanket over my head like that flimsy piece of fabric would somehow drown out the inevitable reality waiting for me on the other side. No such luck. The knocking only grew louder, like a war drum signaling my doom. "Gods," I hissed under my breath, pushing myself upright. My muscles protested. I rubbed at my eyes, feeling the crust of exhaustion scraping against my lashes. Another knock. This time, it shook the whole damn doorframe. "I'm coming!" I snapped, stumbling toward the door, the wooden floor cold against my bare feet. I yanked it open with a sharp tug, blinking against the blinding hallway light, and there she was. My mother. Standing in a fury, arms crossed so tightly
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Lianna: The solar was soaked in gold. Thick streams of morning sunlight pouring through the wide windows, catching on the dust motes that floated lazily in the warm air. I curled further into the deep cushions of the settee, absently twirling the stem of my empty goblet between my fingers, feeling the slight slickness of glass warmed by my palm. Edward sat across from me, long legs sprawled out, shirt sleeves rolled up in that reckless way that always made my blood simmer. The door creaked open and one of the maids stepped in, the rustle of her skirts brushing against the polished floors. She bowed slightly. "My Lord, My Lady. The announcement has been made. About the address at the market square." I straightened, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "Did they make it obvious that I wouldn’t be there?" "Yes, my Lady," she nodded briskly. "It was made clear you are away visiting family." "Perfect," I m
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Lianna: The morning sun spilled into the room entirely too bright for someone who’d just woken up. But I didn’t mind. I felt good. Better than I had in days. My limbs didn’t feel like they were filled with cement, my head wasn’t throbbing, and I wasn’t sweating through every damn sheet like I was trapped in a sauna sent from hell. No, this morning… I felt like myself again. Whole. Dangerous. Alive. I swung my legs off the bed, the marble floor biting cold against my bare feet. The silk robe I grabbed clung to my damp skin as I shrugged into it, its texture like water slipping between my fingers. The air smelled of fresh linen and pinewood, soft and crisp, and when I tied the robe around my waist, something fluttered in my chest. Excitement. Finally. I could train again. I didn’t get far before a voice groaned behind me. “Lianna… what the hell are you doing?” I turned, caught mid-step, with my hair messy, one knee bent, and my hand halfway to the doorknob. E
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Lianna: I stirred to the sound of rustling fabric and the gentle weight of a hand on mine. My eyelids blinked open slowly. The low amber glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in warm shadows. He was sitting right beside me, elbow propped on the bed, fingers trailing across my knuckles with an almost reverent tenderness. The second our eyes met, the tension on his face cracked and melted into a soft smile. "You're awake," he whispered, voice hoarse and threaded with relief. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead, one hand sliding up to cradle my cheek. "How do you feel, my warrior queen?" I let out a soft groan, stretching slowly as though my bones had been carved from old stone. “Like someone beat me with a broomstick, then threw me into a pit full of sorrow and set it on fire. But thank you for asking.” He chuckled, eyes scanning my face. “Your colour’s back. You had me panicking. You actu
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Lianna: I’d fought wars with blood in my teeth and lightning in my palms. I had come out bruised, singed, but never like this. Never this empty. It was like something had drained the marrow from my bones, like my soul had been sifted through a sieve and discarded for sport. I wasn’t just tired, I was hollowed out. My eyelids felt like lead but lifted slowly at the sound of faint incantations. It was low and rhythmic, the syllables curling into my ears like smoke. My vision blurred, then sharpened around the figure of a woman draped in charcoal grey, her fingers twinkling with tiny, glowing sigils. I blinked once, twice. Ah. The Pack Witch. Relief loosened something in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. I hated looking fragile, even though I currently felt like someone had taken a hammer to every joint in my body. “Still alive, I see,” I murmured, my voice raspy and dry like parchment left in the sun. “Congratulations. You all didn’t kill me with your fretting.”
