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THE FESTIVAL OF UNITY

Author: Ana belle
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-04-28 03:24:30

The scent of roasted meat, pine sap, and crushed wildflowers drifted through the air like an intoxicating perfume. The central clearing of the Moonfang Pack had been transformed overnight into a mosaic of banners, lanterns, and ceremonial fire pits. Wolves from neighboring territories—some bitter rivals, others cautious allies—had gathered for the annual Festival of Unity, a political dance cloaked in smiling faces and carefully chosen words.

Veyra Hale watched from the safety of the tree line, her hood drawn low, her heart pounding. She wasn't supposed to be here. She'd promised Jon and her parents she would stay hidden during the festival. The stakes were too high—too many strangers, too many risks. But curiosity had always been her undoing, and the call of the world beyond her isolation had grown louder since her strange encounter with Kael.

Now, as twilight bled across the sky, she stood cloaked in anonymity, the festival glowing before her like a dream she'd never been allowed to touch.

Music floated across the clearing, a blend of ancient drums and stringed melodies. Wolves mingled in their human forms, dressed in ceremonial leathers or elegant robes, their voices a low hum of laughter, argument, and negotiation. Veyra moved through the outskirts like a ghost, slipping between shadows, keeping her head down.

She shouldn't be here.

But the part of her that had touched Kael's hand—the part that had felt her soul ignite—was changing. Something inside her had begun to stir, and it refused to be caged any longer.

She wandered closer to the main circle where diplomats and pack leaders gathered beneath a sprawling oak draped in moonlight. That's when she saw him.

Lioren.

He stood a little apart from the others, his presence commanding without being loud. He wore a long ash-gray cloak trimmed in silver, the symbol of Ashfang sewn into the leather at his shoulder. His dark eyes scanned the crowd, cold and calculated, his jaw sharp, his posture perfect. There was a quiet power about him, like the calm before a blizzard.

And then his gaze landed on her.

For a heartbeat, everything stopped. Veyra's breath hitched. It was different from Kael. With Kael, it had felt like a wildfire roaring through her. With Lioren, it was ice-water—a sudden, silencing clarity that slowed her heart and stilled the world around her. The bond stirred beneath her skin like frost climbing glass.

Lioren tilted his head slightly. He had seen her. Seen through her.

Veyra spun and disappeared into the crowd, her cloak flaring like wings.

She shouldn't have come. Damn it, she shouldn't have come.

She slipped behind the merchant tents, weaving through the darker edges of the gathering. Her heart pounded in her ears. Two bonds now. Two. Her mother had said once the first was formed, the others would follow, but so soon? And with Kael still fresh in her mind?

Behind her, footsteps.

She froze.

"I won't hurt you," came a voice—calm, velvet-smooth, but firm.

Veyra turned slowly. Lioren stood a few paces away, one hand lifted slightly in peace. His eyes—dark as riverstone—watched her with quiet intensity.

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "I felt it. That's enough."

Veyra's voice was caught somewhere between her ribs. Her throat tightened. She wanted to run, to scream, to deny everything—but her wolf purred with recognition, curling in her chest.

"You're... Ashfang," she managed, barely above a whisper.

Lioren gave a slight nod. "Beta of the Ashfang Pack."

Beta. Just like Kael was a warrior from Ironhowl. Different roles, different packs—rival packs.

"Who are you?" he asked, softly. "I can't sense your scent clearly. It's... hidden."

Her heartbeat surged. The enchantment. Her mother's magic must still be masking her fully.

"I can't say," she murmured.

"You don't trust me," he said, not as a question, but a statement. "Wise. But I'll find out. I'm very good at finding things."

His voice was even, not threatening. But something in his tone—an edge of dangerous curiosity—unnerved her.

Veyra stepped back.

"Wait," he said, and for the first time, a flicker of emotion touched his face. "I don't want to scare you. I just— I felt it. Like the first breath of winter after a long summer. I've never... felt anything like that before."

Her eyes widened.

Kael had said something similar—about the roar in his blood.

This one, though... this one was quiet. A stillness that could turn deadly if disturbed.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered.

"Then go," he said, stepping aside. "But know this—I will see you again. The bond doesn't lie."

She hesitated, then turned and vanished into the night.

Lioren watched her go, narrowing his eyes. Something was off. Not just about the strength of the bond or the way her scent danced like mist—almost undetectable—but the way she moved, like someone trained to disappear.

He turned back toward the crowd, but he was already cataloging everything—her height, the edge of her voice, the wildness in her eyes.

She was hiding something.

And Lioren Ashfang did not like unanswered questions.

Back in the woods, Veyra ran until her lungs burned. The sound of the festival grew distant behind her.

She collapsed beneath an ancient willow, the branches draping around her like a sanctuary. Her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Two bonds. Two.

Kael and now... Lioren.

She clenched her hands, staring at her fingers as if they might glow with the power inside her. But nothing happened. Just the thundering of her pulse.

She wasn't ready.

Her mind screamed it.

But her wolf?

Her wolf was singing.

And it sounded like the beginning of everything she'd feared—and everything she'd longed for.

________

My my my..... we finally get to meet our second mate.

If I were Veyra I'll be dying of excitement to be honest.

Having two hot mates damn.

Do y'all have someone you're rooting for already? Well I don't.

It's still too soon and we have many more to come you guys.

More hot mehn phew.

Let me know your thoughts in the comment.

Don't forget to vote and recommend to your friends and family.

Until next time,

xoxo

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  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   EPILOGUE- BEYOND THE BONDS

    The days that followed were nothing like the ones before.Where once there had been bloodshed and the clash of swords, there was now the soft murmur of rivers winding through fresh green fields. Where once the air had carried the scent of smoke and iron, it now smelled of wildflowers and rain-soaked earth.Veyra stood at the edge of a meadow, the long grass brushing her calves, the summer sun wrapping its golden arms around her. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the simple, perfect peace of it. Children's laughter rang out from beyond the hills where the new city was taking root — not a citadel of power, but a village of unity, a home where wolves, humans, and even those once touched by the Order's darkness could live side by side.The world had changed. They had changed it.A sharp bark of laughter caught her attention, and she turned to see Lioren chasing after a group of pups, feigning clumsiness as he let himself be tackled into the tall grass. The little ones shrieke

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   THE FIRTH BOND FULFILLED

    The air was thick with anticipation as the sun dipped low beneath the horizon, casting an ethereal glow over the assembled packs. Veyra stood at the heart of a vast gathering, the land now cleansed of the dark remnants of the Order, bathed in the promise of a new dawn. The battlefield, once torn by bloodshed and despair, had given way to a fresh hope.This was not a coronation; it was a rebirth. For Veyra, it was the culmination of her trials, her sacrifices, and the unyielding love that had tied her to her mates and the people she now led. She stood at the center, draped in a shimmering white cloak, its edges gleaming like the moon's own light. Her face, though marked by the hardships of battle, was filled with quiet strength, the weight of leadership not as a burden, but as a duty she embraced with her whole being.Around her, the wolves stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the woman who had brought them through the darkest of times. The scent of earth and fire still lingered in th

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   DAWN OF THE RUINS

    The first light of dawn broke over the ruins of the Black Citadel, its pale rays casting long shadows over the land, where once only darkness had reigned. The ground, still scarred from the battles fought in its name, now began to stir with life. The fires had died, the dust had settled, and where the Citadel had once stood as a symbol of power and fear, now stood a new beginning—something born from the very ashes of its destruction.A new city was taking shape, but not one built on domination or conquest. This city was different. This was a city founded on unity.Veyra stood at the edge of the ruins, looking out over the land that was slowly being transformed. Where the broken stones and shattered walls had once been symbols of the Order's strength, now there was only hope. The survivors, the rebels, the packs—everyone who had fought for freedom and for a better world—were working side by side. There was no division between them now. The wounds of the past were still fresh, but they

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   A KINGDOM OF GRAVES

    The aftermath of the battle was one of devastation, a wasteland of ashes and broken stones, where the echoes of war hung heavy in the air. The Black Citadel had crumbled to dust, but it was not the only ruin left behind. The once-proud armies of the Order, those who had stood as the last bastion of darkness in the world, were now scattered across the battlefield, fallen like shattered fragments of a dream long since corrupted.Veyra stood at the center of it all, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders as she surveyed the devastation. The ground beneath her feet was scarred, the earth itself torn apart by the battles fought and won. The stench of death clung to the air, mixing with the faint scent of burnt wood and the faint remnants of magic that still lingered like the last whispers of the Wyrm's dying breath.Around her, the survivors worked in silence. Soldiers and allies alike, their faces grim, their movements mechanical, as they set about the grim task of tending

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   COLLAPSE OF THE CITADEL

    The earth trembled beneath their feet as the Wyrm's body crumbled, its essence unraveling like the last threads of a long-forgotten nightmare. Veyra stood at the heart of it all, breath ragged, her sword, the Moonblade, still glowing with a faint pulse of Zevi's spirit. The battle was over. The ancient monster that had plagued the lands for so long was no more.But the victory came at a cost.The very foundation of the Black Citadel, once a place of death and dark magic, began to shake violently. Stone walls that had withstood centuries of torment cracked and buckled, sending massive chunks of debris falling like boulders. The air was thick with dust and the stench of decay, as if the Citadel itself had been infected with the poison of the Wyrm.Veyra's heart pounded in her chest, but there was no time to savor the victory. They had destroyed the Wyrm, yes, but the Citadel was collapsing, and there were still so many left behind—those who had been enslaved by the Order, those who had

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   THE SWORD AND THE SOUL

    The battle intensified, a blur of flashing blades, snarling roars, and desperate, determined movements. The Wyrm, while powerful, began to show signs of weakness. It twisted and writhed, its once-unstoppable strikes slowing, faltering beneath the relentless pressure of the five warriors fighting as one.Rune and Lioren worked in perfect tandem, their movements a blur as they took advantage of every opening. Rune's strikes were precise, cutting deep into the Wyrm's rotting flesh, while Lioren's speed allowed her to dart in and out of the creature's reach, landing blows with incredible accuracy. Her movements were almost like a dance, fluid and graceful, but with the deadly precision of a wolf on the hunt.Jon was everywhere at once, his sword flashing with every strike, cutting into the Wyrm's scales with an unyielding force. He didn't hesitate, didn't give the creature a moment to recover. He kept moving, kept striking, pushing the Wyrm back with every swing.And then, Zarek, ever the

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