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Chapter 194
Last Updated:
2024-09-26 23:05:23
Collins Patrick Thank you for reading❤️
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Lelia watches with curiosity and close attention as Celina dips Amara’s unconscious body into the half filled bathtub that contains water and some special herbs Celina got herself from the nearby woods.“Your hand,” Celina says, taking Leila’s hand, holds it over the tub and she slices it with a curved dagger allowing the blood to flow into the water.She waves her hand over Leila’s wound and it immediately seals up and then, she slices her own hand over the water.“With your werewolf blood and my witch blood, her magic will be suppressed for a time,” Celina says and she begins to chant.Leila watches with bated breath and a racing heart as the water in the tub slowly becomes red, like the drops of blood in it and Amara’s eyes fly open, still in her unconscious state. The water begins to steam and dry up and Amara yells in pain when Leila hears something snap.She grits her teeth, purses her lips, clenches her fist her side and tears pour down her eyes in pain for her daughter’s sake.
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“Take that fucking page and rip it to shreds Carmela, I want the fuck out of here, nothing else,” Tristan replies, backing away from the prison bars and going back to lay on his bed.He lies face up, staring at the flickering bulb above with his hands behind his head.“Tristan,” Carmela calls, “do we have an agreement? I promise, this time, I’ll be able to get you out. I need you to be a witness in court, I have everything figured out. You just need to stick to your original story, we’ll let them sentence you and her to death but I’ll get you out before you get to the guillotine and you can go anywhere you want.”Tristan slowly turns his head to look at her with rage and disgust in his eyes before he shifts his gaze back to the flickering bulb, a sullen look in his eyes.“Go away Carmela, I don’t want to see you unless you’re here to get me out.”He closes his eyes and heaves a deep sigh.He shouldn’t be in this mess, he didn’t even kill the fucking witch. When he got there, she was a
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Leila paces back and forth outside the courthouse, worry etched in her face, anxiety staunch in her heart. “Any news?” She hurries toward the man with a phone to his ear walking towards her, the second defence counsel on her mother’s case, Bass Grant. “No one can reach him,” Bass replies, putting his hands akimbo. “And you say you haven’t seen him in days?” Leila nods and looks away, staring into the distance with a grim look. Today is the most important day of the case so far, the day they get to put her mother in the stands and prove her innocence. Ever since the day Amara shifted, Kelvin had not shown up to the house nor did he call. She thought it odd at first but she assumed he was preparing for the big day and so she did not bother to check in but now no one can reach him. Bass glances at his watch and grunts. “C’mon, we gotta be seated before the judge comes in, maybe he’s running late and don’t worry, I’ve studied the files in depth too, I can handle it.” “Hmm,” Leila no
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After Trent is dragged out of the court, Judge Bruce clears his throat, leaning closer to his mic. “After listening to all relevant testimonies and taking into account useful evidence, the court has reached a verdict. Liana Rogers,” Judge Bruce pauses and Liana, Bass and Leila all stand up to hear the verdict of the judge. “On the charge of murder, the court finds the accused…not guilty and on the charge of conspiracy to commit murder, the court also finds the accused not guilty. The accused is hereby acquitted of any charges against her and is free to roam and live as a bonafide member of the blood oak pack within all her rights. This Court case is adjourned,” Judge Bruce continues and slams his gavel. Leila heaves a deep sigh of relief as Liana rushes her in a hug and Leila smiles but the smile barely reaches her eyes. Kelvin’s absence still worries and upsets her. This is his victory, none of this would have been possible without him. He should be here, where the hell could h
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“What do you mean by 'I have to be searched?' Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Carmela eyes the guard at the holding prison her father is being kept in with contempt. The man remains stoic in front of her, eyes curt and gaze ahead, legs shoulder width apart with his hands crossed behind his back. “You are the daughter of a man accused of murder and if you want to go in to see him, we must make sure you have nothing of consequence on you,” he replies sternly. She glares at him. “You scum, so you want to put your hands on the Alpha’s fiancée? Do you have a death wish?” “I’ll be the one searching you.” A familiar female voice reaches Carmela’s ear before Tracy steps out, eyes cold as frost. Carmela is taken back to see her, evident from the look of surprise in Carmela’s eyes. “What is the meaning of this Tracy? You should know better, I’m your friend.” “May the goddess take your tongue for calling me that,” Tracy snaps. “You don’t know the meaning of that word.” “That
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After signing the necessary papers for her mother’s release with Bass and her mother, Leila tries to mindlink Kelvin again for the umpteenth time but she cannot reach him still. Did he have an emergency that took him far away from the pack? He would have said something if that was the case, he wouldn’t just leave her in the blind and worried.“Leila, are you okay?” Liana asks, seeing the gloom in Leila’s eyes.Leila sighs deeply, rubbing the side of Liana’s arm with a wry smile on her lips. “I’m fine. Bass, do you think any one in the office might know his whereabouts?”“I cannot say for sure but you can always go ask, he might have left a note or something, we both majorly worked on the case from his apartment and I know for sure he’s not there, so office might be the best bet.“Mom, I’ll call Amanda to come take you home with Amara. I’ll go with Bass to the office to figure out Kev’s absence, something about it is off, it's just so unlike him.”“Thank you sweetheart but do not trou
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“Help you? I should kill you,” Leila snarls, charging at him. “I know you’re the phoenix wolf,” Tristan puts his hands up to protect himself, backing against her car. Leila halts midway to striking him, feeling a spike in her heartbeat, her eyes widening in surprise. “I always like to have leverage over my employees, I had Carmela’s phone bugged and I heard a conversation with her dad. I can help you prove the truth but first you have to save me.” Leila grits her teeth, her eyes tight in annoyance, bitterness and anger marauding inside her as she shifts her paws back into arms and clenches her fist. “I don’t trust a word you say. For all I know, this is another one of your master’s schemes to get me.” “That bitch is not my master and you can trust me because you know she would never tell anyone her biggest secret when it risks her being exposed. I found out by chance but then my allegiance was to her, I had to do her bidding.” “And now?” Tristan moves his hands away from his
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“Good night Mama,” Amara says, kissing Leila’s cheeks before she lies on the bed and Leila puts a blanket over her when she gets home that night. She got Tristan some supplies and they discussed at length about how Tristan could help her prove her innocence with what he knows. She always knew Amara was special but not this special, a werewolf and a sorceress. She doesn’t know why two goddesses would decide to go against the laws of nature, the very laws of creation to bless a child, her child with both their powers and the fact that Amara now has to live with the knowledge and burden of that from such a young age worries her. What kind of powers would Amara have? Will it corrupt her like she has heard happen to many sorcerers and sorceresses? And that magical aura around her wolf? Does it grant her wolf some special kind of power or is it just the mere presence of the magic within her? There are so many questions she has that have no answers and many of those answers can only be g
Last Updated : 2024-10-01
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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“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
