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76. Persuasion
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Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 77. The Heartless Alpha
[ELARA]I’ll run away.Ruelle’s words echo in my mind long after she’s gone. There can’t be any seriousness to them, but I saw the determination in her eyes.Where will she go if she truly runs away? And how far can she go before she’s caught?Eldric won’t let her off so easily, and perhaps after discovering her attempt to escape, he will claim her a traitor and punish her. Anything in his capacity to humiliate and hurt Magnus.And Magnus? How will he take this? There’s no way Magnus will know of Ruelle’s plan and actually let it be successful. He wouldn’t pick this over letting her marry Zander.And there are far more dangerous things out there for a princess on the run…‘Don’t tell Magnus,’ Lila voices her advice, making me gasp.This isn’t something I can keep from him. Can I?‘Don’t you care for Ruelle?’ are Lila’s next words. ‘She doesn’t want him to know.’Of course, Ruelle doesn’t want Magnus to know about this. But that doesn’t make it right.A rustle from behind me pulls me o
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince Prologue: Shattered Bonds
The wind whispers through the open window, carrying a faint scent of jasmine that mingles with the pounding of my heart. “Alina can’t marry him, Alpha. She’s weak,” my father begins, his trembling voice resounding in the pack’s courtroom. Beta Collis smirks at him from where he stands beside Alpha Zander before he comments, “A weakling for a weakling. What can be a better match for the twisted Prince of Caelondor?” I grit my teeth, suppressing a curse. Beta Collis has never been kind towards my family but his remark was unnecessary. "Alpha Zander," my father continues, ignoring his fellow Beta's words. His shoulders are slumped and he looks older than his years. "The pack healer says she might not live long." My stepmother stifles a sob as she clutches the sides of her robe. A rush of whispers arise from the pack members bearing witness to this meeting. I nervously glance around and hear people talk sympathetically about my stepsister, Alina. It's unfortunate what happene
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 1. The Masked Truth
[MAGNUS]I recline in the bathtub, the warmth of the water enveloping me as the palace servants go about their tasks. Steam swirls in the opulent chamber, the scent of chamomile lingering in the air and my mind wanders through the labyrinth of lies spun by my detested uncle, the king.As the palace servants meticulously wash me, their eyes averted, I stare at my own half-naked reflection in the mirror. I'm not disabled; it's a fabrication concocted by my uncle's twisted mind, fueled by his hatred and fear. The king seeks to undermine me, to strip away any sense of power or influence I might possess. He's afraid of what I could do to him. But it's time to reclaim my power, turn the tables on my enemies, and catch them off guard.Alistair, my loyal beta werewolf, stands guard outside the chamber, a silent guardian of my secrets.As I rise from the bathtub, the servants hastily rush to cover my body with linen. Alistair makes his way toward me before his eyes follow a servant as she walk
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 2. Golden-Eyed Deception
[ELARA]Outside my chambers, I can hear the loud beating of drums and the occasional whistle of a flute. I’ve seen over half a dozen human bards and female dryads that have been invited over to entertain the royal company. When I scurry over to take a look from the window, I can see what seems like half the continent gathered in the courtyard of Mistral Hollow’s packhouse. Over the last few days, I’ve seen my father glued to Alpha Zander’s side. He has been making sure that the wedding ceremony is a grand success—leaving no stone unturned to appeal to the King of Caelondor.But the previous morning, a raven arrived from the royal palace, informing us the King would be absent from the ceremony. He’s at war with the kingdom of Wyvern, and has been for several weeks now. The disappointment on my father’s face upon hearing the news was contagious. And moreover, the invitations can not be withdrawn. Nobody seems to care about the Prince. Even though he is the most important person in the
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 3. The Rude Prince
As I stand there, my hand still pressed against Magnus's lips, I feel a lot of things. Confusion, astonishment, and yes, even a hint of attraction to the man who just went through an incredible transformation. I can't help but be mesmerized by his newfound beauty, but my initial anger and betrayal still linger beneath the surface.I feel mocked. And humiliated. But no one’s laughing at me. I spot Alina among the crowd and her jaw is practically on the floor. She looks furious and beside her Celeste seems to be grinding her teeth. I see Alina say something to Celeste as she stomps her feet like a stubborn child. Although only for a moment, I feel satisfied. I feel good. I want to laugh at them despite being the one who was tricked. Their evil plan has backfired. The girl I treated with love all my life betrayed me just so she won’t have to marry an ugly man. But Magnus is anything but ugly. At least on the outside. I can't ignore the bad things I've heard that he's done.My father a
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 4. The Unwanted Wife
I find out soon enough the kind of man my husband is. He’s truly a wicked, two-faced bastard! Few hours ago at the break of dawn, we started our journey back to Caelondor. I was made to sit inside a carriage covered with feather-filled pillows—the royal treatment, truly. But I’m not allowed to talk to my handmaids. Or anyone, really. In fact, ever since we left Mistral Hollow, Magnus had not even spared me a glance. It’s like for him I don’t even exist. He was charming during the wedding, kissing my hand like I expected a prince would. But it was all a facade. I should’ve known it, but as always I was a fool. I feel lonely already, away from my homeland—the place I grew up in. I’ve never been away from Mistral Hollow or my pack for more than a few days and now I'm going to spend my life in a foreign land. With the constant pain of having my mate by my side. Alec has kept his distance from me. I don’t know how he does it, because here I’m going crazy. I keep thinking of all the m
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 5. The Royal Chessboard
[ELARA] Hours likely passed since I narrowly escaped being murdered by a water demon, but my fury refuses to settle. Magnus' harsh words keep coming back to me. My maids insisted on changing me out of my soaked wedding gown. Initially rejecting their help, I soon realized how the wet fabric clung uncomfortably to my skin. Now, I find myself in a plain blue robe adorned with a silver border. The tent lacks the grandeur of the wedding ceremony—simple, unadorned, with dim lanterns casting a soft glow, creating an uncomplicated atmosphere. Seated on a basic bed, my thoughts are consumed by Magnus. He's not just a distant husband; he's orchestrating an elaborate game. Caelondor has never been favored among the independent wolf packs. That changed when news of King Eldric seeking an alliance reached us. Witnessing the Alpha's desperation was a rarity, sparking confusion within our pack. How would an alliance with a distant kingdom benefit us? Our pack has never been weak. Despite the ske
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 6. Tensions by the Riverside Feast
[MAGNUS] The night unfolds along the riverbank, the candlelit table casting a warm glow on the faces of the gathered ministers. They dine on the delicacies that are brought in — a roasted boar, its succulent flesh still sizzling — golden carrots, ruby-red beets, and emerald-green asparagus—arranged artfully on silver platters. Plates of venison flank the boar, the meat tender and juicy. They are accompanied by bowls of honey-glazed root vegetables—parsnips, and turnips glistening in the candlelight. A spread of artisanal bread, crusty and warm, sits alongside an assortment of cheeses and honeycomb. Flaky tarts stuffed with spiced fruits and nuts, their edges dusted with powdered sugar. The clinking of tankards and the hum of conversation fills the air, but I keep my ears glued to the sound of anything going amiss. “The Prince never fails to deliver a feast!” calls out Lord Reynard, laughing as he raises his glass of wine. He’s already quite drunk, barely keeping himself on the c
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