Edward: The temple air still lingered in my lungs, a mix of incense and the faint earthy undertone of old stone, but my thoughts were far from the ancient halls and the Alpha Kings I had entertained. My mind was with Lianna. Seeing her earlier, draped in white and gold, had left an impression on me that even the most pressing discussions couldn’t erase. She’d always been a woman who carried herself with a quiet dignity, someone who knew how to command respect without raising her voice. Today, though, there was something different about her—a radiance that went beyond her outward beauty. "Your Luna is quite the spectacle," one of the Alpha Kings’ wives had commented earlier, her voice thick with condescension. "She’s a woman of strength," I had replied, my tone steady. "She’s been through more than you could ever imagine and come out stronger for it." They hadn’t expected me to defend her. Their silence, though brief, was telling. Lianna had never been a source of sha
Lianna: I woke to the soft morning light filtering through the heavy curtains, my mind still groggy from the events of the day before. My first thought was of the wedding—how surreal it had all felt, like watching someone else’s life play out from a distance. The vows, the people, Edward… It felt like a dream, albeit one I couldn't escape. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the Palace stirring to life. I turned my head slightly and stared at the empty space beside me. Of course, Edward wasn’t there. He had his own chambers, a luxury afforded to us only because we were in the Royal Wing, far from the prying eyes of others. I rolled out of bed, my silk robe brushing against my skin as I tied it loosely around my waist. Just as I reached for the door to grab a glass of water, a knock startled me. When I opened it, Ingrid stood there, a bright grin on her face and a plate of cake in her hands. “Good morning, Mrs. Alpha King,” she teased, stepping inside without w
Lianna: The morning sun streamed through the wide glass windows, casting a warm glow over the sprawling gardens just beyond the walls. I paced the length of the sitting room, my fingers gripping the edge of a clipboard filled with notes. My nerves were eating me alive, though I’d perfected the art of looking calm and composed over the years. Today would test that skill more than ever. The tea afternoon with the ladies of the Pack. The words alone felt heavy, loaded with expectations I wasn’t sure I could meet. For days, I’d been preparing for this event, fussing over every detail. And yet, with each passing hour, I felt less ready. The dining hall where the maids were setting up was bustling with activity. Tables draped in fine lace were adorned with delicate floral centerpieces—roses, lavender, and sprigs of baby’s breath arranged in porcelain vases. Trays of finger sandwiches, tarts, and cakes were being placed on tiered stands alongside ornate teapots. Everything looked pe
Lianna: The air was warm, and fragrant with the scent of flowers and freshly brewed tea, but I felt none of its charm. I sat stiffly among the women gathered in the garden, their laughter ringing hollow in my ears. The tea party was going well, by all accounts. The tables were immaculate, the food perfect, and the games entertaining enough for the guests. But no one seemed interested in speaking with me beyond faux polite acknowledgments. I sipped my tea, my fingers tight around the delicate porcelain cup, and glanced toward the far side of the garden where a group of women were deep in conversation. Their voices were low, their expressions animated, and their laughter seemed to mock me. I wished Ingrid were here. She always knew how to make me feel at ease, how to bridge the gap between me and others. But I couldn’t keep depending on her for everything. I had to stand on my own as Luna. The games began shortly after the tea had been served. A servant brought out a set of
Edward: Negotiations had been dragging for days, and I was no closer to an agreement with the Vampire King than when we started. Every proposal I presented was met with polite refusals, thinly veiled insults, or counteroffers so ludicrous they might as well have been jokes. Resources, territory, military alliances—I’d put everything on the table, carefully sidestepping the topic of marriage between my brother, Ethan, and the Vampire Princess. It wasn’t that I thought it was a bad idea in principle. Politically, it made sense. But Ethan wouldn’t go along with it willingly, and the thought of forcing his hand didn’t sit right with me. So I focused on other options, trying to find a way to satisfy the King without binding my brother to a loveless union. The idea that things were going to go bad weighed heavily on me as I returned to the Palace. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows over the gardens where Lianna’s tea party was in full swing. My thoughts drifte
Edward: After the wedding, I would have loved to spend time with Lianna. Catch on with our past and get to know each other better as it was really important if we were going to continue with this pretend thing. But there was so much to do. Ethan had left a lot of things in a mess, from finances to infrastructure to legal issues and hell, even the state of things in general. A cleansing snr routine ritual hadn't been held in a long time and I realised that the hunting days were insignificant now with no one commemorating the beginning of a new moon. "When was a hunt last held?" I asked Ethan's beta, Rian, whom he had abandoned after his position was taken. Rian was really eager to give me replies as it was obvious that he was extremely upset by how easily he had been discarded. He never got any compensation of the sort and I totally understood why he would be really upset. But that wasn't so much of my business as I was concerned about the affairs of the Pack. He sigh
Lianna: "You look really glowy this afternoon," Ingrid said as she took off my dress. "Based on what you said about the women being rude to you, you don't even look that offended, or like your day was ruined." I sighed. "Well, uhm, I'm not going to let them get to me. I'll have to get used to it until they eventually decide that it is time for them to stop talking about me." She nodded. "That's really impressive. I'm glad you're starting to grow a tough skin for real. I hate how they dampen your spirits because honestly, you don't deserve that." She pressed a kiss on my cheek and dumped my dress into a laundry basket. "What I am glad for is that the tea party went absolutely well. The decorations and meals were on point. If anyone starts to spread rumours about anything negative, they would have the media team to answer to." I turned and looked at her with raised brows. "Why the media team though? What have they got to do with this?" She patted my arm, chuckling as she pull
Ethan: The moment the door slammed shut behind me, I let out a guttural groan. It echoed off the walls of my quarters, reverberating back to me and making me feel even worse. I was filled with regret. I'd made a mistake by signing those papers after letting Edward threaten me. How could I have been so stupid? So weak? My fist collided with the edge of the table, causing a sharp pain to shoot up my arm, but it was far better than the humiliation. I gritted my teeth as I pushed the papers from my desk off, the documents scattering across the floor like fallen leaves. The ornate vase perched at the center went next, shattering into a thousand pieces. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be. Edward’s words still stung. His smug, calculated tone still rang in my head, further enraging me. "Sign it, Ethan. Do it for the Pack. Do it for yourself." He knew exactly how to manipulate me, how to push all the right buttons. I hated him for it. But more than that, I
Lianna: The morning light was shy, barely bleeding through the velvet curtains when I cracked my eyes open. I didn’t need a clock to know what day it was. My chest already felt like it was caving in. The air hung heavy, saturated with that stale chill that often preceded sorrow. A mourning fog rolled outside our window like some prophetic omen, brushing ghostlike tendrils across the glass. Edward hadn’t moved beside me. His breath rose and fell in shallow waves, his hand still loosely curled around mine like he feared I’d disappear in my sleep. I shifted slowly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. We were going to banish his brother. I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, the fabric swishing softly against my bare skin. My toes hit the floor with a shiver, the marble tiles beneath me as merciless as the decisions we had to make today. My robe hung at the edge of the armchair, still draped from the night before. I sl
Freya: The night felt too loud for how quiet it was. Crickets whined in the grass like tiny, angry violins, and the wind kept slipping through the cracked wooden shutters, brushing cool air against my bare arms like an unwelcome ghost. I was lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers I’d been chasing in circles. My bed creaked with the slightest shift, the old mattress groaning beneath the weight of my body. I shouldn't have come back here. I shouldn’t have returned to this house. I shouldn’t have ever listened to her. My chest ached. That tight, slow burn of regret that started somewhere beneath my ribs and dragged itself up to my throat like it had claws. I reached up and rubbed the heel of my palm against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that had already found their way to my pillow. My face was warm, wet. I could taste salt. My breath shuddered on the exhale. “I didn’t want this,” I whispered into the room, voice barely audible over
Edward: The eggs Tarantino made were, as he warned me, an absolute disaster. But the bread was warm, and it was good enough to make me forget about the burnt rubber taste of the eggs. We ate in silence, only the scraping of silverware and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air. My mind wasn’t exactly on the food anyway; it was stuck on the conversation we’d had earlier. Tarantino was right, of course. Everything happens for a reason. I could hear the words repeating in my head, like a stubborn echo bouncing off the walls. But as much as I wanted to believe him, that sentiment did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. Nothing could change the fact that I was sending my brother into exile, to a life without the Pack, without me, without any of the privileges that came with being a royal. But I couldn’t just let the sorrow flood over me, not in front of Tarantino. Not in front of the only person who still seemed to see me for more than just my title. So I swallowe
Edward: The drive was long, and Harvey wouldn’t stop humming that off-key tune under his breath like he was trying to win some invisible award for irritation. I didn’t say anything because well, silence stretching between us felt safer than opening my mouth and letting all the tangled thoughts spill out. My jaw ached from clenching it too tight. My nails had dug half-moons into my palm by the time we pulled into the small, quiet Pack territory that felt like the world had forgotten it. “I remember this place being a dusty excuse of a town,” I muttered, eyes flicking over the paved roads and fresh buildings. “Now look at it. They have actual sidewalks. I should’ve sent Ethan here for humility training.” Harvey chuckled but didn’t comment. Smart choice. It’d been years since I last came here. I was just a boy, clinging to my father’s hand while he laughed and pointed at the bakery with the awful scones and the house with the broken weather vane that somehow never got
Lianna: The palace had never been this quiet. Not even during the former Alpha's father’s funeral, when the halls were draped in black silk and everyone spoke in whispers like mourning had a volume limit. No. This silence was different. It hung in the air like a mist, curling around the columns, sliding under doors, seeping into my skin like cold. I sat on the balcony, elbows on the marble balustrade, chin resting against the back of my hand. My eyes drifted somewhere beyond the courtyard, past the rustling hedges and the guards stationed like statues, to a place I couldn’t name. The sky was pale and slow today, the clouds dragging their feet like even they couldn’t be bothered to hurry. A soft breeze combed through my hair, lifting strands across my face, and I didn’t bother to tuck them behind my ear. Ingrid was beside me, her legs propped up on the ornate table, scrolling through her phone like it held the cure to this numbness
Ethan: The moment Edward’s footsteps faded from the dungeon, I felt my chest constrict. I was alone. And not in the usual way where I sought solitude; this time, I felt like I was suffocating. I collapsed to my knees, the cold, damp floor seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My tears came in torrents, hot and bitter, an unforgiving reminder of everything I had lost, everything I had thrown away. There was no one left to blame but myself. I didn’t even care how pathetic I looked at this moment. All I wanted was the sting of reality to fade, even if only for a second so I could catch a sense of monetary relief. The memories of my life before all this pain before Freya, before Lianna, before the twisted path I had walked flashed through my mind like a parade of ghosts. I remembered how everything had been so simple back then. It was supposed to be me and Lianna, always. We had a bond, a bond that nothing could break, or so
Edward: The echo of my boots against the marble hallway was all I could hear as I stepped out of the study, my hand still clenched from how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the desk moments ago. My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I told myself I wasn’t going to interfere. I promised Lianna I wouldn’t. But promises made in the eye of a storm rarely stand when the wind changes. And gods, it changed. The moment the elders started screaming over each other like a pack of senile hounds, all clamoring for blood, I had to shut them up. I didn’t even remember raising my voice until the silence hit. Until they all turned to me, and I, like a damn fool, spoke the decree. Now my baby brother would be banished to the Drekavac Hollow, and somehow, my voice had sealed it. The air grew colder the deeper I went, but I barely noticed. My fingers brushed the stone walls out of
Edward: My journey from the courtroom to my study was a tumultuous one. I fought back tears I hadn't shed in years. Hell, I fought the urge to turn on my feed and go back to the court to change my mind over what I had said concerning Ethan, but that was futile. The judgement had been made and as bad as it made me feel, I had to be rational. I had to embrace reality and see Ethan for who he really was beyond my brother. I slammed the door behind me harder than I meant to. The sound echoed off the tall bookshelves like a gavel dropped by the gods. I’d always found comfort in this room. In its silence and its order, but today it felt more like a cage than a sanctuary. I could easily just step back out and take a walk or even go horse riding, but I knew it wasn't going to take away that terrible misery that was keeping me company right now. Which meant running away from whatever I was feeling wasn't the cure to my pain. I ran a hand through my hair, pacing a
Lianna: The air in the hall was suffocating, tight, pressing against every corner of my skin like the heat of a blacksmith's forge. The walls of the courtroom seemed to close in the moment I stepped in, hand in hand with Edward. I could feel his grip tighten slightly, almost imperceptibly, as our eyes fell on the man seated at the center of the gathering. Ethan. His gaze landed on us and didn’t waver. But I saw it. That subtle shift in his posture. The way his spine straightened, like the presence of our united front had finally forced him to understand that his days of immunity were over. Good. I wanted him to feel that fear. I wanted him to sit with it. We took our seats as murmurs spread through the chamber. Some voices were hushed, others hissed outright with emotion. The elders looked especially tense. Some wwr already whispering amongst themselves, robes rustling as they fidgeted, eyes darting between one another. An elder rose. He was tall and lean, his