“So I’m the phoenix— What have you done Carmela? How can you be so selfish?” Leila mutters weakly in shock, out of breath and covered in blood. She can barely keep her eyes open and her heart thuds slowly, every movement painful to the core. Carmela stole her destiny, made her the enemy and is now getting rid of her. Is this how her story really ends? Blood mixes with the tears dropping from her eyes and she winces as she tries to move but her muscles are stiff, she can barely feel anything but the immense pain in her chest. “Why Carmela? The pack comes before any of us, before any of our wants…” For a moment, Leila loses the hostility and anger she feels towards Carmela and it’s like she just wants Carmela to see the wrong she has done, not even to her but to the pack. Despite how they have all neglected her and treated her with contempt, it hurt her deeply to know that they will miss out on the prophecy that makes them hate her all because of Carmela’s deceit. “I don’t care a
Tears spill out of Leila’s eyes in abundance as Carmela walks away, sorrow hugs her heart and anguish serenades it. Anna’s betrayal hurt when she tried to give her that food that day but knowing that Anna has been poisoning her for Carmela’s sake for two long years does more than cause her pain.Why her? She has been nothing but nice to the people around her.Why is all of this happening to her? Is it a test that comes with being the phoenix Luna? Can she really trust Carmela’s words? If she is Tatum’s mate and the real phoenix Luna, why did she never get the mark, even after getting her wolf?She heaves a tired sigh and drags her back down the wall till she is laying on the dirty cold floor, her back flat against the floor as she stares into the darkness above.It is hard to believe Carmela, perhaps she only wants her to feel even worse than she already feels because her wolf said in that dream that she needs the real mate mark, if Tatum is her real mate, why didn’t his mark libera
“Amanda, hurry up, they’re hot on our trails, we have to leave,” Kelvin says frantically, peeping through the window of the abandoned building he took Leila to for Amanda to check her wounds. “I’m going as fast as I can, her wounds are severe, her body is weak, but thankfully, the baby is safe, weak but safe,” Amanda replies, cutting up the last stitch on Leila’s forehead. A huge sigh of relief escapes Leila, hearing her child is alive and goosebumps rent her entire skin, a new feeling a hope comes upon her and tears jerk her eyes as she looks sadly from Amanda who is cleaning her body up with a warm towel with rapt speed and focus to Kelvin whose brows are furrowed in worry, constantly looking from her to the window. What would she do without these two people? She is blessed to have friends like them and she knows she can never repay their kindness to her. “Thank you,” she mutters, tears rolling out of her eyes. Neither of them replies and Amanda stabs her simultaneously with two
Leila feels like her heart is being plunged into by a jagged edge spear, hearing the cold, emotionless way Tatum refers to her as a criminal.Does he really believe that she killed the witch?She heard him clearly pronounce death on her from Carmela’s mind link but seeing him so determined, leading the charge to bring her to supposed justice, it hits her with an immense amount of pain.It’s a pain she cannot describe, it’s raw, primal, like it is clawing at her heart and ripping it apart into a million pieces.She gets off Kelvin’s back, barely able to stand on her feet but she manages, her blue sombre eyes coated with tears as they stare straight into Tatum’s cold grey eyes.“A criminal, is that what you really think of me? You think my punishment is death, that I deserve to die?” Leila asks in a sullen tone, her heart racing hard, her chest rising and falling slowly.Tatum sneers at her and replies in a spine chilling tone. “Yes, you ordered for the pack witch to be killed. Death is
“Miss Leila, we really cannot keep tolerating this, if this happens again, we’ll have to suspend or worse, expel your daughter from the school. We have a zero tolerance policy for violence among students,” the principal of the Bayview Pack preparatory school says to Leila in her office.Leila frowns and turns to the innocent looking sweetheart chewing on her pineapple candy absentmindedly, dangling her feet from the chair and humming a song to herself.“We’ll do our best to make her understand that,” she says to the principal before turning to her daughter, Amara. “Apologise to Mrs. Keaton, dear.”“I’m sorry Mrs. Keaton, for beating up my classmates who tried to bully me.”“Good girl,” Leila replies sharply, “and what do we do next time it happens?” “Report to the right authorities,” Amara drawls on her words nonchalantly and Leila chuckles softly, apologising to the principal and takes her out of the office.“I shouldn’t have apologised mama,” Amara kicks an empty can of water as th
“I put Amara to bed, you need anything before I retire?” Kelvin asks Leila later that evening as she fiddles with her laptop in her room.Leila turns to him with a sullen look in her eyes. Ever since she tossed that paper out of the car, all she can feel is rage, five long years gone but her anger is still as palpable as the day she rejected Tatum and jumped off that cliff.She hates him, she hates both of them and she doesn’t wish them well in their so-called marriage.What even took them five years, she expected them to have multiple kids by now.She knows Kelvin anonymously brought it to her attention as a way of asking if she has moved on without them having to talk about it but the bitterness and anger coursing through her is unbearable.Remembering how much she fought to stay by Tatum’s side, only for it to mean nothing in the end breaks her.If she did not have Kelvin by her side, encouraging and helping her, especially in the early months after she left, she would have died f
When Leila opens her eyes, the next morning, she hears the sound of a man’s slow heavy breath behind her in bed, his arms firmly wrapped around her, their body pressed tightly against each other and Leila slightly shifts her butt away from the hard thing pressing against her thigh, feeling embarrassed but she doesn’t wake Kelvin up. She spins slowly in his arms and studies his face while he sleeps, he is handsome and looks almost like an angel in his sleep. He is an angel even when he is awake. Without him, she would not be alive and he has saved her life numerous times on different occasions, putting his life at risk, the hideous scars on his forearm are testament to that. She knows Kelvin is in love with her, it came to her as a brutal shock when he told her that he has always been in love with her about five years ago, two months after they settled into the Bayview pack, thanks to Kelvin’s family business investments in the pack. It was the day she went into premature labour, s
“Aunty Amanda, I will be having a girls sleepover tonight,” Amara says into the iPad standing on the dining table as she has her dinner.After helping Leila and Kelvin escape, Amanda knew she would be the next target and she moved to Kelvin’s uncle pack the following day with the help of Curtis.Luckily for her, a doctor with her versatile skill was just what the pack needed at the time and she quickly secured a job at the hospital.Amanda was with Leila throughout the final days of labour, as gruesome as it was, she never left Leila’s side and she stayed for months after delivery before she returned back.Amanda chuckles. “Is that so cupcake, how many of your friends are coming over?”“None of them, I’m going over to Kate’s—”“Amara!” Leila calls, stepping into the living room.“Kate’s mom is here. Do you have everything you need?” “Yes mama,” Amara replies sharply, jumps down from the chair and runs into her room.She returns with a huge backpack and waves Leila goodbye as she run
The palace glows under the Blood Moon, its light bathes the open-air pavilion where the ceremony unfolds in an ashen hue. It's a few months after the twins’ birth, and Tatum and Leila are hosting the sacred rite for mateless wolves to seek their fated bonds. Flames from torches dance, casting shadows on tables laden with roasted boar, honeyed fruits, and spiced wine. Wolves from every pack fraternize, their laughter and murmurs braid with the pulse of drums and fiddles. The air twinges with anticipation—some are here to seek love, others quest for destiny, all drawn by the moon’s primal pull. Banners of silver and red flutter above, embroidered with crescent moons, and the scent of pine and wildflowers lingers, a tribute to the wild heart of the kingdom. Amara perches on a stone bench near the dance floor, her eyes bright with mischief. Beside her, Amanda leans in, her auburn curls bouncing as she points at a Luna in a garish yellow gown. “Look at that,” Amanda whispers, smi
It is four years after the coronation, the palace murmurs with life, its stone corridors softened by laughter and sunlight. The scars of Antonio’s cruel reign has faded, replaced by scenic blooms of oaks and phoenix flames. In a sunlit hallway, Amara, now ten, sprints after a giggling three-year-old boy, her dark hair bouncing in a loose braid. The boy, Kael, is Kelvin and Tatiana’s son, visiting for the holiday with his parents. His tiny legs pump furiously, a mischievous grin lighting his face as he dodges Amara’s outstretched hands.“Get back here, you little tornado!” Amara calls, her voice equal parts exasperation and amusement. Kael squeals, darting around a corner, his curls bouncing. He’s fast for his age, but Amara’s longer strides close the gap. She lunges, and scoops him up before he dives into one of the many hiding places in the house behind a groove in the wall. Amara tosses him into the air with a flourish. Kael shrieks with delight, arms wide open like a bird, the
The palace of lies quiet, the firebrands dimmed after the coronation’s fervor the night before. Moonlight spills through the arched windows of the royal chambers, bathing the room in silver. A fire that's been running now smolders in the hearth, casting shadows that dance across the cloistered room. The revelry—cheers, music, oaths—has faded, leaving only Leila and Tatum, alone at last.Leila stands by the window, her sapphire gown replaced by a simple linen nightwear that flatters her generous hips and ample bosom, her hair loose in dark waves. The weight of the crown lingers, though it rests on a velvet cushion across the room. She gazes at the stars, their light a reminder of battles they've won and promises yet to keep. Tatum approaches her, his footsteps soft on the rug. He’s shed his regal mantle, wearing only a loose tunic and trousers, his silver-gray eyes warm in the firelight.“You’re quiet,” he says, his voice a mere whisper as he wraps his arms around her from behind.
The great hall of the palace is agog with a celebration. The marble pillars draped in banners of silver and gold. Weeks after Antonio’s fall, the kingdom gathers for a coronation. The air is alive with hope. Crystal chandeliers cast prisms across the mosaic floor, where roses—white for peace, red for sacrifice—form a path to the twin thrones. Nobles in velvet and commoners in their finest pack the hall, their faces bright with belief in a future minus Antonio and his tyranny. Musicians weave an orchestra of harps and flutes, and incense curls upward from holders, sweet and solemn. Today, Tatum and Leila are crowned regent king and queen, stewards of the throne until Amara, the destined Lycan Queen, comes of age. Leila stands radiant in a gown of sapphire silk, her dark hair woven with pearls, and the Phoenix Luna’s aura is a faint shimmer around her where she stands beside her husband. Tatum wears a mantle of black and silver, his presence steady as stone. Amara who is clad
The crowd's cries for Antonio’s death is a deafening roar. But Antonio rises, his crown askew, tilting to the side, a parody of its glory, his lycan blood burning in his veins. His eyes are wild with defiance, locked onto Tatum. “Enough!” he bellows, silencing the throng. “I demand a wolf duel, one on one, Tatum. To the death.” His voice tremors with menace. “If I win, you, Leila, Amara—all rebels—will die for treason. If I lose, well…” He smirks, baring bone-white, elongated canines. “I won’t.”As a lycan, Antonio towers even in human form, his bulging muscles are a testament to his legendary strength, his wolf form a beast of nightmare. The duel will favor him, for he is a predator born to crush his enemies with every fatal blow he delivers. Leo steps forward, knuckles clenched to cracking whiteness. “No,” he growls. “He’s cornered. We outnumber him, and without his magic, he’s done. Let’s end this now.” Ragna nods in agreement, the scars gleam on his knuckles, ready to charge o
The plaza hums with apprehension, both of the crowd and those of the faction that now rises against Antonio's tyranny. Alpha Leo’s words hang in the air, a challenge to King Antonio’s reign. The king’s face darkens, his crown glinting like a warning as everyone watches. “You dare betray me?” he snarls, turning to the other Alphas—towering figures clad in furs and steel, their eyes gleaming with lupine intensity. “You dare to defy me?” The crowd quiets, the air tight with impending violence. Antonio struts, eyes like firebrands, his shoes picking off prints from the blood left by Camela earlier. “Alphas, end Leo and Tatum. Now!” he commands again. Stillness descends in the crowd. But the Alphas—Ragna, Soren, and Veyra—stand unmoved, their faces look like they're carved from stone. Ragna, broadest of the three, steps beside Leo, his voice a low growl. “No, Antonio. Your tyranny ends here.” Soren and Veyra nod, their silence louder than any shout. The crowd murmurs, shock rip
The fall of Carmela lingers but a new dread takes root as Leila rushes through the crowd, hurling herself towards the stage where Amara stands, her small frame dwarfed by that of Antonio. Tatum follows behind her, his face red with fury, his eyes shot with pumping membranes. The crowd parts, clearing the way for the couple as sparks of whispers trail them. “Antonio!” Leila’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp as a blade. “You cannot marry our daughter!” Behind them, a flurry of murmurings animate the crowd, speculations fly, questions too. Tatum steps forward as guards inch around the king. “She's not yours to claim,” Tatum barks, “And you know why.” Antonio's eyes narrow with piercing sharpness at the couple. He knows. Leila feels it in her bones. He now knows. She is the Phoenix Luna. Amara, their daughter, carries the same fire, destined to rise as the kingdom’s next ruler. By binding her to him, Antonio seeks to snuff that destiny, to chain the Phoenix’s lineage to h
The Grand plaza glitters under the midday sun as Carmela steps out of a silken pavilion, a gorgeous sight that hushes even the worst cynics. Her gown, woven of lace and pearls and sequins, clings to her frame, before fanning into a train that drifts like mist behind her. A diamond studded veil shimmers over her face, and gold threads gleam in her hair. Arches swathed in white silk and roses tower over the wedding altar, where dozens of blossoms—crimson, ivory, gold—spill and waver like a fragrant tide, matching Carmela’s aura. The event that has had everyone wagging their tongues wagging across the kingdom for months is finally here. Cheers and applause erupt from the crowd as she glides with a queen's grace across the raised stage. As she floats down the steps, whispers trail her—some name her divine, the chosen queen. “Look at her,” Leila muses loud enough for Tatum to hear. “If I never saw a snake in a dress. I do now.” “Apt,” Tatum says through a smile as painful as Leila's
“No he’s not,” Leila snarls at him, her heart burning with rage, her eyes clothed with vengeance, “whatever you have done to him, undo it, now!” “Done to him? I said Tatum’s dead woman, nothing can be done to a dead man. This one here is just my faithful loyal guard dog,” Leo snaps his fingers twice and the man walks over to his side, silent and submissive. Leila’s heart boils with a fervent anger. She knows deep down in her heart that this is her husband, the man she has loved for years. Is he now completely under Leo’s control? Why is everything about him transformed with the exception of his face and voice and if he really is completely under Leo’s influence, then why did he save her, not once but twice. “Tatum, you’re not his dog,” tears stream out of Leila’s eyes, her heart clenching with unimaginable pain. “You’re the most powerful Alpha in the realm, Alpha of the Blood Oak pack, my Alpha, my husband…do you really not recognize your sweet pea anymore?” The man’s eyes snap to