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Chapter 93
Last Updated:
2024-08-13 22:10:31
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Pregnant, I left him To His First Love Chapter 94
“As you can imagine, I hated Darren, with every breath that I took, with every cell inside of me. I couldn’t stand him but I quickly discovered that the mate bond isn’t something you can fight, the goddess made us for each other for a reason. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t resist him and he tried to win my heart, not relying on the mate bond alone but the irony is, the mate bond is still the reason he thought to do so.“I watched Darren turn from a ruthless, vicious and desperate leader to the most kind, sweet and loving Alpha, the version you all see today and it is all because I was put in his life to temper his anger, to guide his rage and to nurture his ego. That is what the mate bond does, it searches for the deepest, most innate good in our mates and helps us bring it out and I want my son to experience the same.“Leila, if you love Tatum, if you really love him, you will let him go,” Adaline concludes and as she stands up, she runs her hand down Leila’s hair twice, givi
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“I thought we were past this,” Amanda says in a clearly irritated tone, scowling at the way Carmela has her arm wrapped around Tatum’s elbow and the two are beaming with smiles.An important part of the werewolf games is the charity donation day. An initiative that was developed to help the less priviledged and needy of the various packs. Every pack and their Alpha were to pick another pack and donate to that pack’s less priviledged and needy.While Leila is busy handing out supplies and supervising the affairs of things, carrying out her duty as Luna, Carmela is perched at Tatum’s side and he lets her.Leila smiles bitterly at them before she replies to Amanda. “They share a bond my love cannot compete with, I cannot stop Tatum from being with her.”“Don’t give me that crap,” Amanda sneers at Leila. “Even if Tatum’s hands are tied because of some prophecy or bond or whatever, you of all people know Carmela is an evil psychotic bitch who should not be allowed anywhere near the Alpha.”
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“What are you doing here Carmela?” Leila asks in a firm tone, her anger palpable in her voice.Her and a few other Lunas from the council scheduled a meeting right after the charity donation ended.The reason for the meeting is to discuss the banquet preparations at the end of the whole event. There are six Lunas currently present, including Leila and a seventh impostor, her one time best friend and her now arch enemy, Carmela.Her presence doesn’t sit well with Leila and this time Leila doesn’t hide it or hold back.“Carmela is here as a special advisor to me,” Margaux, the head of the Luna council answers with a condescending sneer on her face. “Anyone who has a problem with it can leave.”“Have you gone nuts Margaux?” Leila fires at her coldly. “Where did you think this is, your pack? If she is your advisor, then fine, she can advise you after the meeting, not during. She- needs to leave.”The other Lunas look at Leila with palpable shock. She rarely talks back to anyone in the pas
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Some of the Lunas scream, others growl, ready to shift when the assassin suddenly blows a powdery substance into the air and they choke on it, clutching their throats and yelling in pain, unable to morph into wolf form.Leila’s fear triples as she is the only one not affected by whatever he blows in the air, whatever it is, it seems to be affecting their wolves.She turns her gaze to Carmela and Carmela is sitting on the floor unaffected, a coy sinister smile on her lips.She flicks her brows at Leila and slides her index finger across her throat and Leila’s attention immediately returns to the man who is only a breadth away from her.She quickly grabs a bottle of wine on the table in fear and desperation to defend herself but to her utmost surprise, the assassin walks past her, giving her a cold stare that keeps her frozen to a spot and he grabs Margaux and slams her on the table.Margaux lets out an agonising and painful scream. “Please…what did I do to you,” she mutters in pain.T
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“For the last time, I have no idea how it got into his hands, I left it right here this morning,” Leila taps on her dresser, glaring at Tatum.He just let Carmela go, no investigation, no nothing. Despite how much she tried to make him see the truth, he refused to listen to her and demanded they return home while his warriors took care of everything.Does he believe she really would hire an assassin? “I believe you Leila,” Tatum replies, sitting on the bed and massaging his temples, the wrinkles of stress shaping the lines of his forehead.“But you don’t believe Carmela did it right?” Leila places her hands akimbo, a bitter smile on her lips followed by a soft scoff of disbelief as she stares down at her husband.“No Leila, I don’t,” Tatum replies coldly. “I know you don’t like Carmela but you can’t just accuse her of something as evil as this. You are the Luna, your words carry weight, you can’t just condemn people you don’t like.”Tatum’s cold words breeze pain all over Leila’s he
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“Tatum I–”Tatum shakes his head.“I don’t care why you do it, I really do not want to know.”He cares, he cares all too much, he cares and it hurts beyonds words to see the only woman he has ever loved, his wife, his Luna, sneak out behind him and remain in touch with the one man he has repeatedly told her he doesn’t want her to have anything with.She even forced him to go and save that man’s life. A searing pain burns Tatum’s heart and he smiles bitterly at Leila but he doesn’t say anything and they both just stare at each other.Eyes holding mixed and powerful emotions.Ironically, the other man in his marriage happens to be his wife’s fated mate and he is out there, right now, brewing the cure for her, so he can have legal grounds to take Leila away from him and there is nothing that he can do but fold his hand and watch.The pain he feels is nothing an entire library of encyclopaedias can explain, all the words in all the languages of the world can barely scratch the scratch of
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“The Luna is here,” One of Clayton’s men says to him, bowing slightly.“Let her in,” Clayton grunts as a deep frown etches on his face.Tatum has already mindlinked him of Leila’s intention to join him in the investigations. Left to him, he would rather not do it with her but it is her right as Luna and a direct order from his Alpha, he cannot disobey it.“Whatever plans you have to sabotage the process of this investigation will not work. You should know that,” Clayton says coldly to Leila the moment she steps into his office.“I assure you head warrior, I have no plans to sabotage anything, I myself want nothing but the truth to be revealed,” Leila replies in a soft tone and gives Clayton her signature polite smile before she takes her seat.Tatum observes her calculatingly as she sits down, her aura is calm yet reeks of authority. She looks nothing like the woman who came to his office a few weeks ago.There is something very different about her demeanour that puts him off but he k
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Leila sees Tatum leaning against his car as she approaches their house, he is wearing a pair of grey jean shorts and a white short sleeve shirt, his daredevil handsome face radiating in the evening sun as he puffs on his cigarette.Her driver rolls down in front of Tatum and he throws his cigar to the floor, crushing it under his white leather sandals and he opens the door for Leila.“Welcome back, Luna detective Leila,” Tatum says in a coy, polite manner, bowing slightly to Leila as she steps out of the car.Leila jerks her head back, squinting at him in surprise and it takes all her willpower not to chuckle at being called a detective.“An Alpha shouldn’t bow to his subjects,” She rolls her eyes and walks straight for the door, not sparing him another glance but a feeling of warmth spreads through her as she does enjoy being waited upon by him.“Well that’s too bad because this Alpha is subject to you,” Tatum replies in a coquettish tone and shuts the car door. He rushes up to her,
Last Updated : 2024-08-16
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Pregnant, I left him To His First Love Chapter 370
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
