5. Decisions

Aminda

I had just showered and was lying across my bed, wrapped in a white bathrobe. My body still ached from my earlier encounter with Kian, but the soreness only made me smile. My fingers traced the mark on my neck—his mark. So possessive, so permanent.

Queen Luna Aminda.

The title had a forbidden sweetness to it. I liked the sound, but I could never let it happen. I had responsibilities, a kingdom to inherit. Lovers, yes. But Luna? No.

Still… the way his voice had filled my mind, the strange pull of the mate bond—I didn’t understand it. Not yet. I would need to research.

The door slammed open.

I sat up, startled. Alister stood there, eyes gleaming with lust as they raked over me.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I snapped, clutching my robe tighter.

“Your guards told me the mutt was sniffing around you at the institute.”

“My guards? You mean your spies. I never asked for guards.”

His posture shifted, predatory. “Listen, Rabbit. If you keep seeing that mutt, I’ll gut him. Then I’ll burn his entire pack to the ground—until not even ashes remain.” His finger jabbed toward me with each venomous word.

My blood boiled. “What’s it to you who I sleep with? You think I’d ever want your centuries-old cock over his? Touch a single hair on him and I’ll end you, Alister.”

An evil grin split his face. “Tut, tut, little Rabbit. I’ve prepared for that. You’ll find I’m not so easy to kill.”

He stalked closer. I didn’t flinch. Fear of him was long gone.

“Tell me, pretty bunny…” his voice dripped with poison, “have you ever wondered if your father is really dead?”

The words pierced me. “What do you mean?”

He caught a lock of my hair, inhaling its scent with exaggerated pleasure. “Sweet. Just like I like it.” He winked.

“Answer me, Alister.”

“Oh, there are things your precious mother hasn’t told you. But I could be persuaded to share—for the right incentive.” His eyes lingered shamelessly on my cleavage. “I’ve always wondered… are you sweeter than your mother?”

Rage shot through me. My hand cracked against his cheek, hard enough to sting my wrist. Before I could recover, he threw me onto the bed. My robe fell open. His hungry gaze devoured my bare chest.

“Fuck, Rabbit,” he shuddered. “Pink. Just like your lips.”

Disgust crawled over my skin. Power surged instead. I pushed him with all my strength—his body slammed against the wall.

“Leave, or I’ll call Aunt Marilla. And once I become Witch Supreme, you’ll be erased first.”

He straightened, lips curling in a sardonic laugh. “That’s what you think. I told you, the moment you lost your purity, you became mine. I’ve worked too long for this. You are my prize.”

I flicked my hand and slammed the door in his face. My chest heaved. If I stayed another minute, I’d lose control.

I dressed quickly: glittery blue mini-skirt, white crop top with plunging cleavage, heels sharp enough to kill. Then I texted Bessa—I was on my way.

Downstairs, I found Mother arranging flowers.

“Mother, don’t bother. Nothing grows here with Marilla and Alister’s rot clinging to the walls.”

She only chuckled, looking radiant as always, far too young for her years.

“Are you going out, Aminda baby? Please take care.”

“I am. But when I return, we’ll talk. About Father.”

Her eyes widened. She nodded, silent.

From the hall, Alister’s voice slithered in. “Coraline, I need you. Now.”

“But we just—”

“I said now.”

Mother scurried past me. Alister followed, loosening his tie, throwing me a wolfish grin. “Second best will have to do… for now.”

I smirked. Tick-tock, Alister. Once Marilla’s black candle burns out, the crown will be mine—and your time will be up.

---

Bessa’s house was alive with laughter and color. Deandra was already there, her hair an electric blue.

“You dyed it?” I gasped.

She smirked, running a hand through the strands—they shifted back to black, then to blue again. “Just magic. We’re making TikToks! Come on, join in.”

I brushed my fingers through my hair—it flared hot pink.

Soon the three of us were dancing in tiny skirts and high heels, Bessa’s phone recording every twirl. The Cukak dance was easy to learn, harder to perfect. We laughed until our stomachs ached.

Deandra edited and posted it. Moments later, my phone pinged.

“#witchsupreme #thepowerofthree #witches #bestfriendsforever.”

We squealed. The video was already climbing in views—then hundreds of thousands.

Bessa conjured popcorn and juice. “So, Aminda… how’s your super hot werewolf? What did he want today?”

I hesitated, then smirked. “He wants me to be his Luna. Says he can’t claim the throne without me.”

Bessa’s eyes widened. “He kinda does. My mother’s obsessed with werewolves—she always said the Alpha King needs his fated mate.”

“He says I am his fated mate.”

“No way!” they shrieked.

“Oh, yes.” I tilted my head, showing them the mark.

“Aminda, it’s beautiful,” Deandra whispered.

Bessa flipped open a book. “Once you’re marked, every wolf will know you’re his Luna.”

Deandra sighed dreamily. “That’s so romantic. What will you do? The Goddess chose you.”

I crossed my arms. “He had no right. I’m not a werewolf. I have my own crown to claim.”

“But you’ll keep seeing him?” Bessa asked.

“Alister’s put a price on his head. Next time I see Kian, I’ll protect him with a spell. I’m not ready to let him go. The sex is… incredible.”

The girls squealed louder.

“On school grounds?!”

“Against the wall.” I grinned wickedly. “I’m sore everywhere. He’s a brute—and I love it. Lovers, yes. But Luna? No.”

Bessa frowned. “That’s cruel. To him, you’re everything. Don’t you feel more than lust?”

Her words struck a nerve. “It’s strange,” I admitted softly. “Since the moment I saw him, no other man exists. When he touches me, I feel… sparkles. Everywhere.”

“That’s the mate bond,” Bessa whispered.

Jealousy slithered through me at the thought of Kian with another woman. Mine. Only mine.

“Maybe,” I muttered. “It’s too soon to speculate.”

Deandra squealed. “Our video hit a million views!”

We watched ourselves on screen—sexy, dangerous, untouchable.

Still, unease prickled. What if Alister sees this? What if Kian does?

The girls laughed it off. But deep inside, I knew—neither man would take it lightly.

And neither was done with me yet.