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11. The Dead Sister
Last Updated:
2024-01-24 04:46:54
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Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 154. The Tower of Winds
[ELARA]The golden-eyed man finally decides to introduce himself as he guides us inside the palace. In his own words—Lord Clarence Dashwood, a friend and most loyal confidant of Prince Rasmus.The eeriness of his gaze has not settled yet entirely, but the palace has more to distract us from it. The courtyard stretches open before us, a temporary dome of cloth strung high above like a painted sky. The fabric ripples faintly with the breeze and depicts sprawling scenes—ships arriving on foreign shores, flames devouring the old and birthing the new, kings kneeling before thrones carved from coral and salt. Qaiven’s history, I suppose. It reminds me of the painted ceiling of the Council Room back in Caelondor. I only ever saw it once. That ceiling with its blank spaces—empty patches of wall waiting to be filled with victories and shame alike. What have they painted over now, I wonder? Since we left.Below the dome, courtiers in sea-colored silks and jewel-toned velvets laugh and raise t
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 153. A City of Smoke and Ambition
[ELARA]I wait for more, but my heart’s already pounding a little too loud in my chest, my mind racing with thoughts. ‘A storm awaits us in the capital. A familiar one, but stronger this time,’ Lila speaks in a riddle, one I don’t feel inclined to solve at the moment. This was unexpected. How do we even move forward after this?But then I glance at Magnus, and he looks… fairly composed. “Why aren’t you… angry?” I ask, trying to read him through the faint hum of the mate bond. “Or surprised?”“I think I’m still trying to understand how to respond to this,” he says softly. “But mostly, I expected it.”His eyes track the distant dark outline of the waterline. “He needed an heir. And eventually, he was always going to turn to his own seed. We just didn’t think he’d pick a bastard.” A breath. “By naming him… he’s made the lines clear. There’s the exiled prince—me. And there’s the king who rules with iron and ash.”His golden eyes return to my face, gleaming with something fierce. “It c
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 152. In The Darkest Places
[ELARA]The massive ship looms in front of me—moored and waiting, its hull painted in proud Qaivenien green and gold. The sails are furled, but even still, the vessel feels alive, like a breathing giant, waiting to carry us into whatever truth lies across the sea. I’ve never set foot on one before.I’ve watched them from a distance, bobbing like enormous bones on the edge of the Cursed Gulf, sails rising like pale ghosts from the shores of Caelondor. But never this close. Never knowing I’d be boarding one with a Queen’s emerald on my finger and unrest tugging at the edges of my thoughts.A few steps away, Magnus stands in quiet discussion with Alistair. Except it’s not really Alistair—not the version most would recognize. His face has been altered into a stranger’s: forgettable cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose, plain eyes that don’t shine the way I know they should. Morgana stands beside him wearing the long, forgettable face of a woman called Talisa. She blends in so well it chil
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 151. The Silver-Eyed Alpha
[ALEC]He paces before Kara’s bound form, taking in the battered villagers until his eyes land on me. Something crosses his eyes—some sort of understanding only he’s aware of. But his shoulders, which already appear rock solid, stiffen further. Then something envelops me all at once. It’s like being hit by lightning and dragged beneath a current at the same time. My feet won’t move. My breath catches. The power over me is thick enough to choke on, nearly buckling my knees. Bend, it demands. Kneel for your Alpha.I hear it before I realize it isn’t mine. The cold, masculine voice slips into my skull in a way that makes my stomach turn. And when the man finally speaks aloud, his voice matches the one inside my head.“I am Alpha Xenon,” he announces, gaze sweeping over the shattered remains of the Saltfire Gathering once again. “Alpha of the Silver Crescent Pack.” His eyes are pale silver, unnatural and unblinking. Those scars on his chest seem to ripple with a faint glow as he speaks
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 150. Guarded by Wolves
[ALEC]We rise from the firelight together. She holds my hand as we make our way through those sitting on the ground. Brynn glances up from her spot beside the flames, a question on her face. Kara leans slightly toward her and says, “We’ll be back.”Maybe we will. Maybe we won’t.The crowd’s murmur fades behind us as we slip down a narrow path that winds toward the edge of the village. It’s lined with wildflowers, soft purples and golds that look silver-blue beneath the lanterns. Their paper skins flicker faintly in the breeze, some nearly collapsed, some still glowing.She leans into my arm like she belongs there. Like we’ve done this a thousand times before—walked down this quiet path in this village.I don’t want to break the silence, but I have to ask. “What happened back there?” Kara doesn’t answer right away. She just presses closer. Her arm hooks around mine, and I feel her breath catch before she says, “Nothing.” Then softly, “Just… hold me.”So I do.We walk like that, slow
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 149. Saltfire
[ALEC]“Does that mean you’re planning to keep her, then?” Olric’s cousin smirks. “Settle in properly, like the rest of us?”I want to. I want to give her everything. A home. A name. A future. But what do I have to offer?Thankfully, Brynn interrupts, “Stop teasing them, the lot of you. They’re still young! Alec, ignore them.”I wink. “That’s what I always do.”But before I can say more, someone calls out from near the long tables, “Isn’t it time to light the fire?”A cheer goes up. The crowd begins to shift, gathering toward the center of the square where a great mound of stacked logs stands ready, circled by stones. Children dart through the crowd to get closer. Elders step forward slowly, each carrying a taper lit from smaller hearths that have burned quietly all day.The flames kiss the base of the structure first, then catch.Within moments, the Saltfire roars to life.Its heat rolls out in waves. Orange light spills across the faces around us, turning everyone golden. The chill
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