Alpha's Cursed Bride
Beings of every kind stood together—wolves, humans, merfolk with legs gifted by magic, avian shifters with wings folded, even the star-touched with skin like night sky.
At the center, beneath the great oak, stood a girl named Lumina—my great-great-great-granddaughter, descendant of Elara’s line. She was twelve, silver-haired with Rex’s red eyes, her light already brighter than mine had been at her age. She stood on a platform built around our stones, her small hands glowing, her voice carrying through amplifiers crafted by human and wolf engineers alike.
She did not speak of war or curses.
She spoke of love.
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