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“Are you sure you want to come along? Tatiana and I can handle this, we’ll be more discreet that way,” Tatum says to Leila on the day they are to leave for the mission to find Kelvin. They are standing outside Tatum’s house, waiting for Tatiana to arrive so they can leave. Officially, the Alpha is going on a short vacation with his girlfriend, Tatiana, the king’s sister and Leila, his personal assistant, is accompanying them on the trip. Leila frowns, “we’ve talked about this before, I’m coming along and besides, you don’t know what we might face there and since we’re not taking any warriors, we need all the help we can get in case things go south.” Tatum chuckles, lightly grabbing her by her triceps, “and what can you do if things go south,” he asks in a sarcastic manner, “it’s not like you’re the best fighter around.” Leila sneers at him, pulls her hand away and punches his side. “Underestimate me at your own peril, you forget I am the real phoenix Luna.” “I never took you fo
Tatum pulls the car to a halt at the foot of a mountain and on the other side is the Augustine river, the location where Leila had asked them to check. “We’ll have to continue by foot from here ladies,” he says, glancing at Leila in the front seat beside him, temporarily stunned with the way the sun rays coming in from the car window enhances the beauty of her face. Everything about this woman is just perfect. From her ocean blue eyes, her resting smiling face, her small pout lips and even her slightly big nose, she is a compendium of everything beautiful and it gladdens his heart that he may yet have one more chance to worship this beauty and he’ll do it right and religiously this time. “Are you going to keep staring at her or are we actually going to get down from the car? I too have a sweetheart I’m dying to see,” Tatiana says, making a face at Tatum. Tatum parts his lips but doesn’t find a reply for Tatiana and Leila chuckles, opening the door and she steps out. “We have to hi
Tatum squints at her as she looks away, realising the growl had come from Leila when he suggested to carry Tatiana. There’s no way Leila is jealous, perhaps it is her wolf but he’ll take whichever. He smiles at the thought, looking away from her so she’s not embarrassed even more, wishing he didn’t have to actually carry Tatiana. “I don’t mind getting there late, as long as I get there in one piece,” Tatiana says in a coy voice to Tatum but she is looking at Leila with a sarcastic look in her eyes, teasing Leila. “Just give me your backpack,” Leila stretches her hand forward, careful to avoid Tatum’s gaze. “No,” Tatum picks up Leila’s own backpack and gives it to Tatiana. “She’ll carry both bags and I’ll carry her.” “I’m pretty sure I can manage,” Leila says, reaching for the backpack but Tatum grabs her hand and holds her close to him. “Listen, it’s going to be pretty uncomfortable and it’s a long climb, plus when you shift back, you’ll feel pain from the bag hitting against y
Leila quickly gets in her clothes and they both run after Tatiana. Tatiana weaves through the thicket of bushes, her heart pounding harder with every step, undeterred by the branches cutting her skin and the leaves whipping against her. The only thing she can think about is seeing Kelvin again, her anxiety mixed with the fear of what could happen when they do find and rescue him. Tatum overtakes Tatiana with Leila behind them so he can clear the path through the forest and makes it easier for them. “When you said you could sense him, I thought he’d be close by,” Tatum said, looking up to the sky, seeing the sun already being replaced by the crescent moon. Tatiana halts, catching her breath as she speaks, the sadness in her eyes mirroring the one in her voice. “I can sense him, even now, I can and it’s strong, he’s close, we should just keep going.” Leila sighs and crouches, the white clouds that once displayed through the space between the trees have now gone dark. She doesn’
Tatum mutters the words of the riddle to himself, Leila gazes around the forest as if the answer would be written on one of the trees. Tatiana bites down on her finger as the three rack their brains to try and come up with an answer to the riddle. “We each get one try, so three tries to try and get us out of here,” Tatum says as a reminder. “Any ideas?” he glances at Leila and then at Tatiana. “No, I don’t know, the answer could be anything,” Tatiana replies and Leila shakes her head. “It’s definitely something abstract if it can cross time and space but then it can take many forms which can also contradict that theory,” Tatum mutters, scratching his head. “Exists between silence and words, between a glance and a touch, is the answer a thought?” Tatiana speaks. The forest rumbles, “No, daughter of Hecate.” Leila heaves a deep sigh, worthy beginning to fill her and cloud her sense of reasoning, she looks at Tatum who has his head down thinking and then at Tatiana who already looks
“No, no, you can’t come,” Tatum replies, turning to face her with a worried look on his face, “you stay here as well, I'll handle it.” If the warriors in there are as dangerous as Tatiana says, he doesn’t want her anywhere close to them. If it’s just him, he can fight tooth and nail like a savage if anything goes wrong to get out but if she comes, he’ll have to constantly be watching her back. It’s best if he does this alone. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, but if the warriors in there are as dangerous as she says, what if you can’t take them on by yourself, you need to let me come with you,” Leila replies in an assertive tone. Tatum sighs and scratches his brows, if there’s one thing he’s learnt about this woman since she returned, it’s that she’s become very stubborn. If anything happens to her, he’ll never forgive himself, he cannot let her come. “Let me go alone, Leila, so if Antonio finds out, it won’t involve you and no trouble will come your way.” “Antonio can go to h
“Get in the car,” Antonio orders Carmela hours ago at the Blood oak pack. “Where..where are we going?” Carmela stutters, looking up at Antonio with fear in her eyes. Antonio gives her a full grin, leaning close to her, his voice soft yet sinister. “My dear fiancée, we are going to the hospital to test for our baby.” Carmela’s heart jumps in her chest, dread drenching her. This is Tatum’s fault. If he had given her the fake test results, Antonio would be convinced by now. “Why can’t you just believe me? Do you really think I’d lie to you?” “Get in,” Antonio replies coldly, the grin on his face vanishing as he circles to the other side of the car and gets in with her. Carmela’s heart thuds, her palms becoming sweaty, her legs shaking, her mind discombobulated. If things go south for her, she needs something to put her on Antonio’s good side back. “I think I know where they are going, it’s not for a vacation. They’re going to rescue Kelvin, you have him right? You should go and st
“Leila!” Tatum rushes towards then with his heart pounding in sheer fear as the guard aided by some spell of some sort plunges the knife into Leila’s back. The sound of her scream peirces the air as the guard yanks out the knife from her back, about to stab her again when his head gets completely torn off his body by a brutal swipe by Tatum. Leila groans in pain as she slams to the ground. Tatum crouches, taking her in his arms. “No, please, stay with me, you’ll be fine.” He looks down at her wound and she’s not healing. His heart lurches at the realization that the knife was spelled, it was not an ordinary knife. His heart pounds in terror and he rips his shirt off, making it into a ball to apply pressure on the wound and to stop her bleeding. Leila heaves slowly, her body quaking with unimaginable pain and she is not speaking, just taking short rapid hung breaths with pain in her tear filled eyes. “Over here!” The heavy footstep sounds of more guards approaching along wit
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