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Chapter 206
Last Updated:
2024-10-05 23:03:34
Collins Patrick Thank you for reading❤️
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“It’s hard to believe she’s not mine,” Tatum replies, pretending not to hear Leila because divorce or rejection is not something he wants to talk about but also because it’s the truth. The more time he spends with Amara, the more suspicious he gets and dare he say hopeful that Leila may just be hiding the truth from him as punishment for what he did to them. It’s not just him who feels a bond to the little spitfire, his wolf does too and just now, when he carried her, it was strong, too fucking strong to ignore. He cannot say what it is but the bond is as strong as what he feels for Leila, the only difference is that it feels filial, not erotic but just as strong. He’s been tempted a few times to swipe a strand of Amara’s hair or steal her lollipop for saliva samples but he respects Leila too much to do so. Even if Amara turns out to be his, going behind her back would only stoke Leila’s fire, a fire he is desperately looking for how to quench. “Well believe it, because she isn’t,
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Leila’s eyes fly wide open, her heart thrumming loud in her ears as she glances from Tatum to Antonio in obvious shock. The Lycan king is her second chance mate? The same murderous, ruthless monster which horrors she has heard of is Antonio? How is that even possible? The man looks like an angel, the best of them all but if he really is the king, then things will get catastrophic. According to Tristan, it was the king who killed the witch and tried to kill him and now that she sees Antonio again, his description perfectly fits what Tristan has. “I didn’t know you were the king,” Leila bows, keeping a smile on her face, despite the nervous storm in her heart. Antonio smiles at her, wiping a strand of hair off her face gently, his eyes holding admiration for her. “There are many horrible rumours about me because of my mysterious nature, kitten and I didn’t want to scare you away,” he says in a soft angelic voice, holding her arms and staring passionately into her eyes. A low gro
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“Careful,” Carmela winces, faking pain as Antonio places his cock at her entrance, “it’s my first time.” “I don’t take orders from anyone little doll,” Antonio grunts with pleasure as he shoves into her breaking her hymen and blood coat his cock as he continues to fuck her. The hymen is fake and so is the blood. When Carmela told Lithoha what the king said about her being his second chance mate, Lithoha suggested that making her appear pure, untouched and chaste in the eyes of the king could give her more worth but knowing the king had magic and could probably sense it, Lithoha used a herbal concoction to tighten Carmela’s broken hymen and for the blood, it is sheep’s blood which was put in a very thin nylon and inserted inside her, so once Antonio penetrated, the nylon burst and the blood spilled. Antonio slaps her face lightly as he thrusts, seeing her looking lost though pleasured. “What’s the matter little doll, don’t like the way I fuck you?” “I do,” Carmela fakes a moan,
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“You fucking listen to me Leila, I don’t care if you hate me to the core, I am not accepting the rejection if it means you get to be with that monster,” Tatum says in a cold voice, frustration clear in his eyes. It’s been a few days since the party and before Tatum left that day, right before her eyes, he threw the divorce papers into the barbecue fire and she had to use Amara as an excuse to get to him because he just refuses to see her and finalise things. “You don’t get to make that choice for me,” Leila replies coldly, seething with anger. “I’m going to be with him, that is my decision.” Everyone knows of Antonio’s horrors or rumours of it anyway, she is not ignorant to them but the devil she doesn't know may be better than the angel she knew that crushed her heart and almost destroyed her life. Tatum groans in frustration, running his hands over his face before he stands up from his side of his desk and sits in one of the two chairs opposite him, facing Leila squarely. He tak
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Why is he being so stubborn?Why won’t he just let her go?She understands that he wants to fulfil the prophecy but she doesn’t, she doesn’t care.The prophecy may be important to him but not to her. She doesn’t want to be used as a tool in his hands again. In his own words he said it was selfish of him to ever marry her because he had feelings for her but all he did was use her as a placeholder Luna for the years that Carmela was absent and now that he knows they are mates and she is the real phoenix Luna, he wants to use her to fulfil the prophecy, selfishly again.If he really cares about her as he claims, he will consider her feelings in all of this, her decision and choices would matter to him but he is just the same person that he was in the past, putting everything first before her feelings and desires.Who is she even flattering? He doesn’t care one bit for her feelings and desires, only his and his pack, that’s all he ever cares about.Days pass and Leila finds her frustrat
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Amara turns and faces Leila, putting a soft kiss on her forehead. When Mama is feeling happy, she is happy, when mama is feeling sad, she is sad and she doesn’t want mama to be sad. The aura around her grows even stronger as Leila squeezes her tighter. The presence of the aura means Amara’s magic, Leila knows that much but what she doesn’t know is that Amara’s magic is just like Antonio’s, exactly like Antonio’s, they deal with feelings and emotions of the mind, contorting it to their good and bad use at will. Antonio uses fear as an emotion to gain control of the minds of people, using that fear to torment his enemies and punish his offenders but Amara feels her mother’s sadness and without knowing it, because her wish is for her mother to be happy, she is sapping away the cause of her mother’s sadness, one bad memory at a time. Leila plants a kiss of her own on Amara’s head, feeling grateful that in times like this, she has her child to find comfort in. Amara may be young but s
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The following day, Leila makes up her mind to go and see Tatum about the subpoena and she mindlinks him. ‘I need to see you.’ ‘I’m busy.’ ‘It's not about the divorce, I promise,’ she says, frowning, knowing he is just avoiding her as usual. Tatum says silent for a while. ‘Fine, I’m at home, the one opposite you.’ When Leila steps into Tatum’s house, the one as big with as many rooms as hers, it is scarcely furnished, just a single couch in the living room, no TV, no rugs, no portraits, nothing but a pleasant smell hangs in the air. It is quite obvious he only comes here because of her. “Tatum!” She yells and her voice echoes through the empty space. “Kitchen,” comes his reply. He’s cooking? Since when did he learn how to cook? That day with Amara, he thought he was just messing around for Amara’s sake. Well, five years is a long time to learn anything. Tatum doesn’t turn back or stop his stirring when she steps in, he is shirtless and the ridges and contours of his muscular
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Tatum says he’s not the one who sued Carmela in her name but why does she find that hard to believe? Since he found out the truth about the matebond, it seems he wants to punish Carmela but why does he want to do it by the books? Carmela is guilty of lying to and deceiving the pack, their original mate bond is proof enough of that and he is the Alpha, he can punish her outrightly. Or does he really mean it, that he wants her to get her justice against Carmela and her family? Perhaps he cannot outrightly punish Carmela and wants to use her because of his precious image as the perfect Alpha to his people that he has to uphold. It would not look so perfect if they learnt how easily deceived their Alpha was but if Carmela is exposed for other crimes, that is an umbrella he can hide under to give her the punishment she deserves. Leila frowns, violently pushing the door to her house open after leaving Tatum’s. Sometimes she wants to believe he genuinely cares about her and is really so
Last Updated : 2024-10-12
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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
