When Lena was summoned to the courtyard, she knew well that Lady Ravena would not allow the events of her wedding day to go unanswered. Retribution had been delayed, not forgotten. Lena had expected it, sooner rather than later.Yet if fate was to bring her before Ravena, then at the very least, she might lay eyes upon Lady Miriam once more as her questions still plagued her. Perhaps now, at last, she would receive the answers she had long hungered for.Upon reaching the stone-lined courtyard, she was met by Ravena’s watchful eyes and the silent presence of her attendants. Without command, two guards stepped forward and forced Lena to her knees before the Lady.But Lena kept her gaze forward, refusing to bow her head.Ravena stood before her in silks of deepest crimson, her hair adorned with gold pins that glittered like blades. Her eyes held no mercy.“You thought yourself bold,” she said coldly, circling Lena like a hawk over prey. “Before our lords. Before my husband.”Lena said no
Courtyard.Beneath the dappled shade of the courtyard arbor, Lady Ravena reclined with ease upon a cushioned chaise, a silver plate of honeyed figs and almond-stuffed dates set before her. Beside her sat Lady Valaria, heavy with child, her hands gently cradling the swell of her womb.Around them, handmaidens bustled softly, murmuring as they poured cooled rosewater and fanned their mistresses from the midday sun. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine and the hum of idle conversation.“I marvel at you, truly,” Ravena said at length, plucking a fig and bringing it to her lips. “bearing one before, and now again. Are you not wearied by it?”Valaria laughed softly, the sound weary but serene. “Such is the way of she-wolves,” she replied. “We are made to bear, to breed. It is how we secure our place in the eyes of the pack and the council.”Ravena arched a brow, her voice laced with a touch of mockery. “And yet, they still seek pleasure beyond their own hearths. Forgive me, but your h
Her fingers ached from clenching, something she had grown accustomed to in recent days. A new habit born of anguish.Her thoughts were a storm, crowded and confused, each one weighing her spirit heavier than the last. There were no answers given, no clarity offered. She would have to find truth on her own.Vargr. He must be the Alpha’s brother. Perhaps even... his twin.But twins were an ill omen in the werewolf realm.She remembered the old whispers, tales passed down by the matrons and crones. No two werewolves were ever born together without consequence. If such a thing occurred, it meant the gods had turned their gaze in judgment. Something terrible had happened, or was bound to.So what, then, was the truth?Why could she not piece it all together?A soldier staggered drunkenly past her cell, laughing. It was a cruel, careless sound.Today, Darius was to wed.A real wife. A new Luna.A bitter sort of relief settled over her shoulders. At least now the burden of that title, one she
A day passed, and no food came. Her stomach writhed in agony, hollow and aching, while the child within her seemed to drain what little strength she had left.To make matters worse, it was high summer—the sun scorched the earth, and no rain had fallen for months. The heat clung to her skin like a curse.Tears slipped silently down her cheeks."I cannot lose you too... I cannot bear to lose you, my child," she wept, her voice no more than a hoarse whisper in the suffocating air.She had endured much—more than most could survive—but for her unborn child, she would not yield. She could not.“Luna…” came a voice, soft as the wind and barely above a whisper.She thought it a trick of the mind, a cruel echo of memory. No one had addressed her by that title in many moons.“Luna Lena,” the voice called again, this time accompanied by the faint clinking of metal.Her eyes fluttered open, weakly.Beyond the bars, a figure cloaked in shadow crouched low. A woman.With immense effort, Lena crawled
Clink... clink... clink...Shackled by the weight of the chains that rattled with every step, Lena moved through the halls, each sound of metal against stone louder than the fear gnawing at her heart. The demon had returned—Darius. What cruel task did he summon her for this time?She reached the study and, with a hesitant breath, entered.The air within was thick with the scent of parchment and aged wood, but as she crossed the threshold, Darius’s gaze fell upon her, and his nose wrinkled in disdain."You could not even be bothered to bathe, you wretched swine?" His voice oozed disdain, each syllable laced with scorn. He spat upon the floor, his contempt ringing louder than the silence that followed.Lena swallowed hard, his cruel words searing deeper than any iron shackle ever had."Step forward, then," he said, his tone like winter frost—sharp and unyielding. "I shall show you something you will not soon forget."Slowly, she crossed the room, the weight of the chains dragging behind
He reached for her hand, his touch warm, grounding.“My lord…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, flinching at the formality.He held her gaze, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It’s Cedric Ashbourne Everhart,” he said gently. “When we are alone, let titles fall away.”She nodded obediently as he swept an arm around her waist, drawing her to him in one fluid motion. Her hands found the curve of his neck, fingers curling there as her legs wrapped instinctively about his hips. With practiced ease, he lifted her, carrying her across the room until her back met the cool stone wall.His hand rose to her hair, smoothing it back with reverent care, his touch a tender contrast to the fire that burned in his eyes. Then, with a growl softened by desire, he claimed her lips—fierce, consuming, and utterly without restraint.She moaned softly into his mouth, his breath mingling with hers as his hand wandered lower, seeking her warmth with reverent intent.A gasp slipped