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“C’mon,” Tatum says, curling his hand around Tatiana’s waist, leading her away from Antonio and Leila and as he does so, he gives Leila a quick yet reassuring look. A look with no words yet it screams the words ‘I got you’ to Leila and her skin is riddled with goosebumps out of nowhere. From the crown of her head to the sole of her feet, a wave of relief washes through her. A small smile of gratitude tugs her lips but she quickly hides it, knowing Antonio is watching her but not before she steals another look at her Alpha. Leila almost blushes, realising what she just called him. Is it excitement that has her heart pounding right now or is it gratitude? Well, whichever it is, one thing is for certain, Tatum will always have her back, he will never leave her to weather any storm by herself, including this one. She may not fully appreciate him always leaving her in the dark but she understands now that he is doing it to protect her. “We should leave,” Antonio’s grumpy voice brings
“I’ll do it for you,” Antonio continues with her throat still wrapped in one hand while he extends the claws on his free hand slices down her dress, licking his lips as her succulent breasts fall out in front of him. “Please…stop,” Leila cries out, covering herself. Shame, fear and disgust all come at her at the same time but Antonio doesn’t relent, he throws her on the bed instead, jumping down on her before she can even balance. He must have a taste of her, fuck her till her body is numb and then he’ll discard her and if she annoys him any further, he’ll fight this strange compassion he has for her and take her life anyway. “So the rumours are true?” Leila replies, with a shaky voice, tears pouring out of her eyes as she wriggles fruitlessly underneath him, “you really are a monster.” Antonio chuckles maniacally in a soft tone. “Monster is a word used to scare little kids, kitten, I am something worse,” he says, groaning in pleasure as he grabs one of her boobs. Leila grits her
Leila doesn’t know how she got home that night, all she can feel is pain. Gruesome and lethal, on every part of her body, in every part of her system. It is not just the way Antonio ridiculed, humiliated and rejected her that hurts but the pain from the one sided rejection is something that she cannot explain. It feels like her heart is under attack from a swarm of bees, constantly being stung, her head hurts, bangs like a sledgehammer is being used to try and force her skull open. When she gets home, her family is still not back, she wants to mindlink her mom but she cannot, she cannot even feel her wolf, the pain is so brutal that it seems to have sent her wolf into hibernation. Her eyes are a deep shade of red, bulging and strained, causing her even more pain like they will fall off any moment. She undresses herself, wincing every time her finger grazes her skin because it burns, every touch feels like a silver needle being used to prick her. She walks like a wraith into the
Carmela sits on the large bed in Antonio’s room, dressed in red lingerie with a small night dress draped over it, playing with a necklace around her neck, shaking her legs gently but her heart is racing fast and hard. Tonight is a big night. The biggest night of her life and she could not be more excited. When she stole the phoenix– no, when her father stole the phownix luna title from Leila and put the tattoo on her, her biggest dream was becoming Tatum’s woman, the Luna of the bloodoak pack and enjoying the benefits that came with it. Being the Luna of the bloodoak pack is great, even just as Tatum’s fiancee, she felt like the world was at her feet but becoming the Lycan Queen? Now that is on another whole different level and tonight, after Antonio marks her, that will be her fate. As the lycan queen, she will be the most famous woman in the realm, respected, admired, adored and the envy of every other woman in the kingdom. She will even get her own palace with access to the wealt
Frantic and scared inside, Carmela retains her poise outside, docile as a lamb before Antonio but she schemes like a fox in her head, thinking about her next best possible line of action to avoid certain death. She remembers what Lithoha told her about bearing Antonio’s mark and him bearing hers. It would mean that she would share a portion of his powers and he will be bound for her to life, unable to feel attraction for or comfort with anyone but her. She knows what she has to do. She will mark Antonio before he marks her. That way, even if she is exposed, he will think twice and hard before killing her because if he does, he will be killing a part of himself too. “I see you took my advice to be naughty literally,” Antonio says as Carmela massages his cock from his trousers while simultaneously sucking on his thumb. “Your wish is my command,” Carmela replies, batting her eyelashes at him, her voice coquettish to the max. “Good girl,” Antonio rubs her head, unbuckling his belt to
“Come on, it’s late, you shouldn’t be up by now, let’s put you to bed,” Leila says to Amara in the living room of their house, frowning at the little girl. After the ritual, Amara seems to have gained more control of her powers and she can now keep her Lycan aura down whenever she is around people. It was that inability that first sparked Antonio’s interest in her when he saw her, he could feel the strong aura emanating from such a young child. “It’s the last episode mama, please,” Amara pleads with puppy eyes, clasping her hands together and she looks to Amanda for support. Amanda came a day after the ritual to be with them incase medical help was needed. “Nope, you’re— ah!” Leila suddenly screams, clutching her chest and her wolf wails in her head, pain dragging through her already weakened body from the one sided rejection. “Mama!” Amara yells as Leila falls face first to the floor and Amanda also rushes to her, her eyes wide in fear. “Leila, are you okay? What is wrong?” Le
The moment Tatum sweeps Leila off the floor into his arms, Leila feels a yearning deep inside her, rising above the terrible pain that she is currently in, she snuggles closer to Tatum as if the warmth emanating from her is not enough and she needs more of his. She looks into his eyes as he takes her upstairs to her room and there is nothing but worry and concern in his eyes. More tears spill out of her eyes, her heart wobbling in pain, reminded of the fact that their story ended when Antonio put her in his bondage. If only she did not harbour such hatred in her heart towards him, if only her anger didn’t burn through her like a fiery furnace when she first returned but how was she to know? How was she to know that behind Tatum’s cold and seemingly ruthless behaviour towards her, he always cared and never stopped caring, how on earth was it possible for her to know that beneath her pain, her hatred and anger lingered a desire for him. She fought hard not to give in to it when s
Tatum looks down at her, his eyes skimming past her pale yet pretty face to her lush boobs half hidden in the water and he gulps, his heart racing hard. It is hard enough to control himself from out here, sitting with her in the tub will be too much for him and yet it is exactly as much as he needs, he is more than deprived of her touch, the contact of her skin, the warmth of her body. He misses her, every little thing about her. Not a day has gone by that he has not craved for her, for a moment where they can just put everything behind them and enjoy the comfort of each other’s company. He can feel the urge of his wolf to be with her, even if there is no bond between them which is even more strange yet he is happy about it, that his wolf wants the woman that he wants, mate bond or not. Leila lets him go, sensing his reluctance and she dips her hand in the water, closes her eyes and throws her head back, feeling the water or whatever is inside it, slowly sucking away her pain. Sh
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