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Chapter 63
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2024-08-03 23:00:19Curtis drops Leila and he and Amanda quickly shift back into their wolf form with their backs turned to Carmela, to conceal their identity.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the games?” Leila asks Carmela, the shock clear in her widened blue eyes and her hurried tone.
Carmela scoffs. “Did you really think your pathetic plan to get away would go by me?”
“So you left the pack unrepresented and for what, to keep me a prisoner? I already gave you the power to be Luna. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, to take back what’s rightfully yours?” Leila asks sharply, her eyes brimming with annoyance, the sound of her voice rising.
“
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Of course Carmela twisted the entire thing with their lies and Tatum believes her. Leila just stood by, unable to even get a word in, not that if she did, it would matter anyway, Tatum always believes everything Carmela says.Why is she not at the werewolf games?According to Carmela, she has been begging Leila to go for days but Leila refused, saying she won’t step an inch out of the room.She even begged Leila for permission to go and represent the pack but Leila refused and scolded her.Why are they in the tunnels, why was Carmela in her wolf form and why does she have a cut on her?Rogues, it was rogues who kidnapped Leila, taking advantage of the
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The night was eerie and dark, the hoots of the owls sounding through the dense forest path, the trees hummed a melodic yet scary hum until the forest’s rhythm was broken by the loud painful grunt of a man.Dry blood coated every inch of his skin like a tattoo even as crimson red liquid spilled out of a wound from his torso, running down his legs who despite their tiredness refused to stop running.It was Tatum and securely clutched in his arms was a pouch and in it was a young sprout of the dry scorpion lily.Getting it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.Getting into the enemy pack and securing the herb was the easy part but because of how rare they are, they had the place boobie trapped and he was struck
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“Get out! Get out! I don’t want to see you, I hate you!”Leila screams at Tatum the moment he enters her room after she leaves the tunnel.Tatum pauses, smiling warmly at her, she has every right to be mad at him, he deserves it. His only hope is that after today, he at least gets a chance to make it up to her.This rift between them is tearing his heart apart more than she can ever know but it’s also made him realise how hard life can be without her, without the warmth from her.As Luna, she makes being Alpha so easy, as a wife, she makes being a husband so loving and as a friend, she makes being her friend so comforting.
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“No!….”Horror fills Tatum’s voice as he rushes to the broken vial on the floor, his eyes wide in utter disbelief as he kneels above it.A sharp pain squeezes his heart as he watches the liquid spill out onto the floor, the shards of broken glass look whole compared to his broken heart.Tears tug his eyes and he blinks for the single tear drop to run down, feeling completely helpless and devastated.Why…..What does he do now?Does he start all over again?He scampers on his knees to the mattress
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Tatum scoffs softly, a wry smile adorning his lips and he gets up from the bed, bending to pick up the shards of broken glass one after the other before he stands up and holds the broken glass in his palm to Leila’s face.“To hell with it anyway,” Tatum remarks and Leila looks at him completely clueless.“Why, what was it?”The liquid from the vial doesn’t seem to have a particularly pleasing smell, so it couldn’t have been some very expensive perfume and Tatum wouldn’t shed tears over something as trivial as that.“You should have asked first before destroying it,” he walks away from her and kicks the small trash can by the dresser open and tosses th
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Leila stares calmly at him, but her heart is slamming against her ribcage but instead of feeling scared or upset about his psychotic plans to murder and cremate her mate, she feels her heart flush with warmth, feeling good to know he desires her this much.This is the Tatum she knows, wild and deadly when it comes to protecting what he loves.Maybe she can give him another chance?Perhaps their baby can grow up, loved and adored by its mother and father.She wriggles away from his hands and folds her arms against her chest, an angry pout on her lips.“If you won’t let me go, it’s not only me you should be telling,” she replies in a c
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Leila spent the rest of the afternoon cradled up in Tatum’s arm until he had to leave to close out the first day of the Werewolf games as is customary.He didn’t even want to leave her but she insisted and it made her feel giddy to see him so clingy.Who would have thought.But she wonders if the attention and affectionate moment she got from him was all for her or because of the baby growing in her womb? Tatum did ask her to stay before she told him about the baby and that gives her a little hope.He may yet be in love with her, nothing would make her happier but it is nothing but mere hope, the same one that kept her around all this time.
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Carmela doesn’t know what hit her next but her eyes fly wide open at the overbearing pressure that comes down on her and she grits her teeth, fighting hard to resist the command in Leila’s voice.Leila doesn’t have her wolf, yet her own wolf is trashing in her head, unable to resist the pressure to submit to Leila’s authority.Is this the sort of power that the— no, it’s impossible, not without her wolf but why can’t she stop herself?She caves in, feeling her wolf going crazy, her head throbbing with immense pain and she bares her neck to Leila submissively.“Luna,” Carmela mutters, shock clear in her eyes, her heart pounding in sheer horror as Leila smile
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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
