- "Mate," she said again, but this time, she was not the only one to say it. He turned just as his twin sister was coming around from behind him. She had on the same look as the rather daring young lady before him and she seemed to be gasping for air as if she had run a marathon. - Despite the suddenness of how it had happened, Ivone Thane wants to find the kind of mate her twin sister had just been bonded to; handsome, tall and captivating, with a hint of mystery. But nothing had prepared her for what she got, as she just might have started a something of a rolling chaos, by acknowledging Maya, Alpha prince Reyes' twin sister, as her mate.
View MoreWhispers broke through the crowd when Alpha Prince Reyes suddenly stood up and said "mate" in the middle of his father giving a speech. The old Alpha king paused and turned around to look at his son making his way past him and into the crowd of people. A smile came to his face and he slowly nodded his head.
Alpha Prince Reyes Thorold, black wolf of the Nightshade pack was the dream of most girls in Nyxoria. He was perfect to a fault, cold and many knew him to be ruthless but this change only came after he had turned eighteen, the age of maturity for every werewolf and truly, the time when ones true self showed. Every child in Nyxoria, after the age of ten, possessed the ability to transform into any size and color of wolf they wanted, these transformations were limited to once a month under the full moon, but the last full moon before they turned eighteen, they could only transform into the kind of wolf that reflected their true self and true nature. So really, there was no surprise when Priince Reyes became, literally, the big bad black wolf. He had turned eighteen five years ago, and every year after that he had attended this event in hopes of finding his mate, but then every year the event had come and gone without the prince finding his mate. Now he was twenty three and finally, he heard the call and felt the pull, it was indeed a moment. It was his moment. The females in the crowd who had just turned eighteen and knew they felt no pull towards the Alpha Prince sulked back in disappointment as they watched him walk past them, heading further and further into the crowd, closer to the entrance door. "Mate," he said again, coming to stop in front of the girl who had just now entered into the hall with her only family. Her mother Rhea Vegne. Zina Vegne stood before Prince Reyes and in front of her mother. She had made every effort to look the best among every girl that would attend this event as she had just come into the age of maturity. Her very long, curly blonde hair, treated and styled with extra care fell over her shoulders, reaching up to the small of her back. She had purposely chosen to wear a black dress, a color that was the prince's favourite and the corset on it matched her brown eyes. She smiled up at the prince, her cheeks heating up to a bright red color. She was not quite sure what she was feeling, but asides from the regular crush she had had on the Prince for years now, she really wasn't feeling anything else that was so strong. Was this how the mating bond worked? She didn't know, wasn't sure but she said the word back, because who wouldn't? "Mate," she smiled. Prince Reyes smiled back. He was satisfied with the girl. She was pretty and her brown eyes shone back to him in respect and admiration. It was not the first time he was seeing her, although they were not quite acquainted with each other, he had liked her, kind of, and now to find out that she was his mate was indeed a moment. He stretched out his arm to her and she took it in hers as he led her through the crowd to present her to his father as his mate and the soon to be Luna of the Wolf's Bane pack once he took over the position of Alpha. "Remind me again why we have to attend this?" Ivone complained to her sister as she was being pulled through the castle hallway towards the main hall where the ceremony was being held. Ivone and Damaris Thane were twin sisters who had just come of age, but no one would know they were twins, not really because they didn't look alike, but because Ivone was smaller in stature and looked like she was younger than Damaris by at least three years. Both girls had dark hair, Damaris liked to keep hers really long, Ivone prefered it not so long, it barely covered her back. "Because," Damaris begain to answer to her sister's incessant complains. She peeked from the corners before continuing, making sure to keep her footsteps light. She had to be careful not to be seen by their step mother because she had forbidden them from coming for the event, which to Damaris was just unfair, "We just turned eighteen and should be here to find our mates." "Okay, but step mother said we shouldn't come out," Ivone pointed out. She could begin to hear the sounds of soft music being played and then a loud cheer and sound of applause. "If we do not attent this ceremony this year, Ivy, we will remain unmated, just like the old wolf," she said and then turned to face her sister with a sly grin on her face, "Do you want to end up like the old wolf?" Ivone swallowed and shook her head. Damaris smiled, "Then stop your whining and just trust me." "But if step mother..." "We're close," Damaris turned swiftly to her twin sister, the joy ever so evident on her face before she turned back around and pulled her towards the door. In her hurry, she ran right into the chest of a young man, also seemingly in a hurry to leave the hall. "Oooouu..." she said as she landed ungracefully on the floor. "I deeply apologize..." the man started, but then stoped instantly as he stretched his hand out to help Damaris from off the floor, "Mate." Damaris' head snapped up at the man and her mouth fell open slightly. He had eyes like she had never before seen, silver, a color that matched the long hair cascading over his shoulders. Without being completely conscious of what she was doing, Damaris' hand came up to meet his as he helped her off the floor, holding her close to himself with a hand across her waist. "Mate," she said back to him in a whisper, acknowledging and accepting him. They stood like that together for what seemed like an eternity until someone called out to him, snapping him out of his trance like state. "Triston! We have to leave, now!" the person called in a loud whisper from down the hallway. Triston blinked severally and took a step away from Damaris, allowing his hand fall away from her waist, "I am sorry we have to meet under such circumstances, but I have to... leave you now," he said with an air of hesitation, like he didn't want to do anything else but hold her close. Damaris only nodded her head slowly, unable to say a word and unable to tear her eyes away from him. Not only had she met her mate even before entering the ball room, but he was the most handsome person she had ever set her eyes upon. She watched him run down the hall way in the company of some other men and she could only just smile and wave him goodbye. "What just happened?" Ivone asked her, perplexity written all over her face. "I think I have just been mated," Damaris answered slowly, under the influence of her intoxication over such a beautiful man, and still in a trance like state. "Well," Ivone said and grabbed her sister by the wrist, "Let's go find me my own mate," she said and pulled her sister into the main hall. "Ah, I guess that concludes the mating ceremony," was the first thing they heard as soon as they walked in through the doors. The girls exhanged a look of fear at first, because Ivone was yet to be mated. "Concludes?" Damaris asked the young man that had just spoken and he turned to her, eying her with lust in his eyes. Ivone was quick to step up, coming in between the man and her sister with a frown on her face "She's mated mister, slow down with the looks." The man looked down at Ivone with a chuckle, looked back at Damaris and tilted his head slightly down in apology, "The Alpha prince has just been mated, somehow I would seem like this whole thing was set up for him, and now that he is mated, doesn't that kind of end it?" Ivone turned to look at her sister before she faced the man again, "But isn't the mating ceremony for the girls?" The man laughed out, "Mostly, yes." "Are you mated?" Damaris asked the man, bringing his attention away from Ivone and to her. He allowed his eyes linger on her longer than was appropriate and that sly, silly smile came to his lips again. Ivone rolled her eyes and groaned, then pulled her sister away from the man, further into the room. "What does that mean for me, Dami?" Ivone asked her sister as she slowed down and stopped. "Nothing," Damaris assured her, "Look at how large this crowd is, everyone cannot be mated." But Ivone was not convinced as it seemed that people were now beginning to troupe out of the hall, "But they are leaving." "Yes," Damaris said to her and began pulling her further into the hall, "Those that are leaving have found their mates and hence, they see no need to remain here..." "Just like you?" she asked with a sad smile and Damaris chuckled. "Yes, baby sister, just like me." "I'm not your baby sister," Ivone said, feeling less, "I'm your twin."Reyes finally turned his head to her, that smirk lingering. “And here I was, thinking you’d cry over me when you saw the bandages.”She raised a brow. “I doubt I would have cried even if you were brought back with much worse injuries. Or dead..”"Look at that! Did you hear her speak, Reyes?!" Zina scoffed, “She’s a traitor. A spy. And you’re letting her stand here and—”“Zina,” Reyes cut in sharply, his voice firm, “leave.”“What?”“I need to speak with Ivone.”Zina's mouth opened, her eyes widening in disbelief. “But I—”“Now.” He didn’t yell. He didn’t snarl. But the authority in his voice made even the guards at the door stiffen.Zina hesitated, shooting one last poisonous glare at Ivone, then turned on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind her. Silence fell. Reyes turned back to Ivone, his expression unreadable now. Only the faintest glint of something—relief? regret? longing?—touched his eyes."Zina claims you’re a spy—sent by Triston," He said, his voice measured, b
The castle gates thundered open as Reyes rode through, bloodied but unbowed. A dark stain had spread across his side where Triston's blade had met flesh. Despite the pain searing through his abdomen, his posture on the horse was rigid, unshaken, his jaw locked tight with fury.Dathan rode close beside him, shouting for the physicians as they dismounted. Servants scrambled through the courtyard, making way for the wounded Alpha. Reyes brushed off the helping hands that reached for him, striding forward with fire in his steps as he made his way to his chambers where the medics quickly set to work peeling off his armor and treating the knife wound at his side.He winced but said nothing, eyes burning—not from the pain, but from something far more dangerous.“Where is Ivone? Bring her to me,” he growled to the nearest guard. “Now.”The guard froze, hesitated and Reyes turned his head, slowly, his voice cutting sharper. “Did you not hear me?”The guard swallowed visibly and took a step for
Ivone sat in the corner of the cold dungeon, her back pressed to the damp stone wall, knees tucked to her chest. The torches lining the corridor outside flickered wearily, casting long, flickering shadows through the bars of her cell. The silence was thick, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling or the distant shuffle of guards. But her mind wasn’t in the dungeon. It was in the library, lost in scrolls and ink and secrets far too heavy for parchment to bear. Annora Thorold, a princess of Elyria. The name lingered in her thoughts like smoke, but what had shaken her most was not the name itself, but the fact that it was written into Nyxorian history. Both kingdoms had always been fractured, tangled in blood and politics, their borders drawn more in war than peace. So why had an Elyrian royal been recorded in Nyxoria’s scrolls? And why had someone deliberately hidden the details of her death? She remembered the scroll’s edge, darkened by smudged ink. It had been
Triston stood rooted to the scorched ground, every muscle in his body taut with fury, yet perfectly controlled. His golden eyes, hard as tempered steel, never once left Reyes, locked onto him with the unblinking focus of a predator. The silence between them cracked with tension, the kind that tasted like blood before the first blow was even struck. His hatred wasn’t loud, it lived deep in his bones, forged from vengeance, and the cold truth of what had been taken from him. The wind swept through the battlefield, lifting strands of his hair, and for the briefest moment, he looked like the ghost of a war that had never ended. He turned slightly, the movement slow and deliberate, his voice was low, but it cut through the space between them with the precision of a blade honed over years of loss. "I came to end this.” He paused, letting the words hang between them like the prelude to judgment. Then, his eyes narrowed even further, his rage sharpening into pure resolve. “And I will.” T
Reyes’s teeth found his injured shoulder, the very spot where the poisoned arrow had once sunk deep. Triston let out a howl of pain as the bite tore into old wounds, his front leg buckling slightly. Blood bloomed fast and thick over his fur. The Nyxorian Alpha didn’t relent. He tore again, shaking his head like a predator trying to rip a limb from bone. Triston’s body slammed into the earth, a snarl of fury ripped from his throat. Reyes loomed, dominance momentarily flashing in his coal-black eyes. But he had underestimated the fire in his opponent. He stepped in for the final strike— And Triston surged. With a primal roar, the Elyrian Alpha twisted, hind legs digging into the dirt, and launched upward. His jaws closed around Reyes’s throat—not deep enough to kill, but enough to lift and slam him sideways. Reyes hit the ground hard. Triston followed, claws raking over his ribs, driving him back with a series of savage, precise bites. He was no longer fighting just to win. He was fig
The scorched remains of the second Nyxorian village still whispered with heat, blackened skeletal beams jutting from ashen rubble like charred bones. Smoke curled upward into the sky, thick with the stench of fire, iron, blood, and vengeance. Triston sat atop his black warhorse at the front lines, his figure carved in steel and wrath, He didn’t move, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest, each breath a restraint, each exhale a promise. His eyes, narrowed and locked on the horizon, burned with purpose. The sunlight slanted across his bare forearms, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the faded bandages that still hugged his right shoulder. The wound left by the poisoned arrow had not yet fully healed and though the pain still haunted the joint where the poisoned arrow had once lodged, he held the reins without flinching, his fingers curled firmly around it, steady despite the occasional tremor he no longer acknowledged, his grip unwavering, showing no sign of weakness. His right
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