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Later that evening, after deciding on the date and time to execute Trent, Leila goes to visit her mother and is surprised to see an even larger crowd than the one that gathered at the packhouse outside her mother’s house. She steps out of her car and immediately she is approached by a group. “What’s going on?” She asks, scanning the crowd and seeing her mother in the middle with tears falling from her eyes. Leila’s heart immediately races, fearing the worst. She dashes towards the crowd, not waiting for a reply to her initial question, ignoring the greetings of people until she gets to her mother. “Mom, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Her mom sweeps her into a tight hug, sobbing hard, “thank you Leila, thank you.” The tension in Leila’s heart deflates but the confusion in it lingers even though she hugs her mom back. “We are so happy that the truth came out Luna. For so long, many believed the lies of that traitor Trent that your mother killed your father, we can’t imagine how ha
“Luna,” the guard guarding Trent in prison, bows to Leila as he opens the cell door for her. “Thank you,” Leila replies, peeking into the dark cell before turning back to the guard, “leave us.” The guard bows and makes his exit and Leila steps into the cell and flicks the light on to see Trent clearly. He is hanging from two adjustable rods welded into the ceiling with the silver cuffs around his wrist fastened to the rods to suspend him from the floor. The rods are adjusted in such a way that he is not suspended too far from the floor and his toes can graze the floor below if he stretches downwards to get some respite from hanging but that will only tighten the hold of the silver around his wrist causing him even more pain and below him is not the concrete floor but a large basin of wolfsbane so whether he continues to hang or tries to drop, torture awaits him. “Ahh…I was wondering when you would come to gloat,” Trent says with his head bent down, unable to lift it up to look a
Trent scoffs, “I am not afraid of death. We all will die someday and from how I see it, things worked out quite well for Carmela in the end because of my actions. She is the queen of the kingdom. That is power that you can never taste and there’s nothing you can do to bring her down from there,” he chuckles sinisterly. “You’re so pathetic and deluded you don’t even see that she is living in a bubble that can burst at any moment. She has a noose hanging around her neck, ready to be yanked up at any moment and with such a lie hanging over her head, I’m sure she can’t even sleep peacefully at night, why would I want to stop my enemy from an eternal life of fear and suffering,” Leila scoffs nonchalantly, “by all means, she should continue living her life of misery in the palace.” “Bullshit! Like you didn’t want the king for yourself at some point. Admit it Leila, you’re jealous that she is living a life of luxury far beyond your reach.” Trent’s words hit a spot and Leila frowns. She is
“Luna, please don’t do this, we were only following the orders of our Alpha. Surely you cannot punish us for doing our duty,” One of Trent’s men who had been apprehended alongside him wails as the warriors drag them to the front of the crowd. It is the d-day for Trent’s execution but before him, a few of his most loyal men who perpetrated crimes against the pack in his name have also been brought before the pack to dance to the tone of their music. Leila frowns at the man who spoke, sitting atop of the podium, on the central seat reserved for the Alpha. She raises her hands up and the crowd goes silent. She stands up and walks over to where the accused are sitting on the floor, her cold eyes fixated on the one pleading for mercy. “Luna, Luna, Please, have some leniency,” he pleads again, trying to grab a hold of her feet but she moves away from his hold and the guards immediately restrain him. “You plead for mercy, claiming you were only doing the deeds of your Alpha. He may have f
Leila shoots to her feet, her teary eyes locking with Kelvin’s in the distance. He is looking directly at her but there is no warmth in his eyes and his gaze isn’t cold either, it just ... .is— void, without any emotion. “Uncle Kev!” A teenager in the crowd yells and runs towards Kelvin with her arms wide open to hug him but the royal guards with him block the girl off and Kelvin doesn’t even look at her, he just keeps sauntering forward, his unreadable but eerie gaze focused on Leila. A sore feeling wraps around Leila’s heart and she remembers what Tatiana said Antonio had done to Kelvin, that he was different. The girl his men just shoved aside that he showed no concern for is one of his young nieces in the pack. How far gone is he? “It’s quite a scene you’ve made here,” Kelvin says in a sarcastic yet cold tone, staring from Trent’s headless body to his bodiless head, a cold smirk forming on his lips. Leila’s heart thuds slowly as she climbs down from the podium to meet him. T
Outside the hall, one of Kelvin’s men holds the door to the back of the car open for Leila to enter when Kelvin shakes his head. “I’m riding with her in mine,” he says in a cold tone, glancing at Leila, “the rest of you, take the other cars.” The man shuts the door and nods. Leila’s heart races as she locks eyes with Kelvin. Perhaps the Kelvin she knows is still in there and he couldn’t just be himself around her in front of Antonio’s other men which is why he wants her to ride alone with him. Kelvin walks over to his car with Leila in tow and then he walks back to his men, giving them further instructions before he walks back to Leila. He stands close to her at the passenger side of the car and scoffs before he walks over to the driver’s side. “What are you waiting for to get in? Gone are the days when I always opened the car door for you, Luna,” Kelvin says in a sarcastic and cold tone, getting into the car. Leila bites her lower lip, feeling like a boatload of stingers were ju
Leila’s heart pounds. Kelvin may have said the words as if talking about killing her is like talking about taking a walk but the sinister look in his eyes is enough to let her know that he means it. She bolts out of the car to make a run for it but Kelvin is already on the other side waiting for her. Her eyes bulge at his speed. His aura is definitely not the only thing that has changed about him. “You don’t have to make a scene right now,” Kelvin dips one hand in his pocket and retrieves a vile, “this is poison. You can make this easy by drinking it, I’ll watch you die and then I’ll dispose of your body or you can make this hard and I’ll have to use my…” he retracts his claws and smiles sadistically at it. Leila frowns, at the same time hit by a wave of sadness. The Kelvin she knows would never talk about her death in such an amusing manner. She may have to accept that her friend is gone but she has to try to reach him if he’s in there, one last time. “You’re better than this Kel
Leila quickly crouches above him, her heart pounding with fear. She grabs Kelvin’s hands and checks for a pulse, a slight shudder of relief taking her when she feels something. She gazes around but she sees no sign of anyone. What does she do? She cannot just leave him out here but at the same time, it is dangerous to be around him and she still doesn’t know who or what sent the beam that hit him. When she tried to focus to bring out her magic, she did not feel anything innate, so she knows this did not come from her. “You should be making a run for it, not kneeling there.” Tatiana’s voice makes her head snap up and her heart races when she hears it, the realisation hitting her. The red beam must have been sent by Tatiana. “Tatiana!” Leila springs up to hug her but Tatiana holds her hand out, pushes past Leila and mutters and incantation over Kelvin. “Is he going to be alright?” Leila asks, peeping the worry in Tatiana’s eyes. Kelvin was cold to her, cold enough to want to t
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