Bound By Prophecy, Claimed By Fate Novels & Stories

After I make sure she's fine, Camden will get what's coming to him. Reign and Zephyr walk around looking for a weak spot while I tap my foot impatiently. Is she fine? She has to be. I don't care about everything else. As long as she's not hurt. The witches -whose names I can't remember- start chanting in an unknown language. I feel the air around me slow and the ground beneath my feet shift. It vibrates for a few seconds then suddenly, everyone is thrown back. The witches land on their backs while Reign and Zephyr end up a few feet away from the barrier. I remain where I am. "What just happened?"

The gray-haired werewolf continued, "Even without the child, Dehlia's bloodline remains significant. It's said to hold the key to a prophecy. The pack members exchanged uncertain glances, the tension palpable. One of the pack members, a younger werewolf with fiery eyes, raised his hand. "What does the prophecy entail? And how does Dehlia fit into it?" The gray-haired werewolf nodded in acknowledgment of the question. "The prophecy speaks of a time when the world will be on the brink of chaos, a time when darkness threatens to consume all. It foretells the arrival of a child born of rare blood—a child who possesses the power to bring balance and peace to our world."

Her voice had turned into a weeping voice, and tears ran down her cheeks. I was surprised at her reaction. She had said she was here for a prophecy, so why was she crying and saying darkness hovered around us? "I have come to awaken the echoes of an ancient prophecy, long buried in the mists of time. The divine goddess herself once whispered to your forefathers of a saviour destined to protect the wolves, a promise etched in the annals of your lineage. Generations have passed and the promise faded into the dusty corners of memory, forgotten by the passage of time. But, Alpha Blaise, it is through your veins that the promise will be fulfilled, for you are the channel for a new kingdom that sh

“She’s fighting with a god, Portia. It’s our fault why the prophecy happened and we’re the ones to pay for it." “It wasn’t the werewolves’ fault. It’s the witches’.” “There’s nothing we can do to undo the prophecy. And the werewolves’ alliance with the witches had led us to this.” He looked down on the water before continuing, “We’re not supposed to associate ourselves with the humans back then. But with the witch’s spells, we manage to break the boundary. That’s the tie that keeps our bond.” “She will protect us, Giofré. Just like how she protected me.” I laid a hand on his shoulder as he turned his head to me.

“Lux tenebris involvunt proponit eamque ad nativam nisi me. Lux tenebris involvunt proponit eamque ad nativam nisi me.” Alaric moves to grab her: “Willow no, it will kill you!” Her other hand moves, holding Alaric back with magic as she keeps going with the spell for Marcel, whose screams become tangled and broken as his body slowly becomes lifeless and crumples to the floor. The field is silent, a stark contrast to the audible pain of just a few seconds ago. Alaric looks at Willow, his eyes wide, half with shock and half terror. How is she still alive?

Her fists curled, whitening at the knuckles, as Astrid said, "She's not a damn object, Orion. You don't own her." He arched a brow-highly amused by her boldness but he knew her too well, "That's where you're wrong. Ownership isn't about possession, Astrid. It's about power. Control. Magnolia is tied to me by forces which you can't even begin to understand." Astrid's heartbeat thundered in her ears. "Then free her." He chuckled low again. "You think it is that easy? I snap my fingers and let her walk away?" He shook his head. "No, Astrid, there's only one way I'd let her go."

"You've bound me to you, indefinitely." My eyes widened in shock. "What does that mean?" "It means," he said, his voice low and filled with barely contained rage, "you'd better fix this." I stood there, my mind reeling, trying to process what I had done. I had bound him to me? One of the three Fates was standing before me, and I had somehow tethered him to my will? It was absurd, impossible. And yet, here he was.

How do you fight a god when everything has been preordained? The ground shook again, and Lycus emerged from the shadows, bloodied but grinning. “See, Luna? This was always the endgame. You either kneel or die.” I glanced between the deity and Lycus, my thoughts racing. The prophecy never mentioned two paths—only a choice. And in this moment, I realized something the deity hadn’t counted on. The prophecy wasn’t about following fate—it was about breaking it. I raised my chin, meeting the deity’s glowing gaze head-on. “You’ve miscalculated. I may be bound by my bloodline, but I am not a puppet.”

If Malrik truly lost control once again… none of us would survive long enough to see another sunrise. I also couldn’t shake the fear off. Last night had been bizarre. The chains broke. They fucking snapped. The chains that had belonged to our forefathers, passed down to the brother who inherited the curse. They were stronger than anything I had ever known, forged with silver and the blue flame of an ancient dragon woven into every link. They had held for generations. And yet, they snapped right off the walls. A cold breeze swept past me, and my wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin. Hours passed, and then-

The formal naming came close to midnight, the whole ceremonial ground gone hushed and expectant as the eldest council member stepped forward, a carved staff in one hand and a blade in the other, and called Cassian to kneel before him. "By blood and by fire," the elder said, voice carrying easily over the gathered crowd, "by the will of this council and the strength this pack has watched you carry through its darkest season, do you, Cassian, swear to lead Ashfang as its Alpha, to protect its borders, its bloodlines, and its people, before all who stand witness tonight?" "I swear it." Cassian's voice rang out steady and sure, not a single crack in it, and I hated how convincing he sounded even