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Sleeping Luna and the Lycan King
Sleeping Luna and the Lycan King
Author: Solange Daye

Prologue

Author: Solange Daye
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-03 10:36:58

Nothing but a frozen wasteland stands between the cabin and the forest.  The snow blanketed on the ground is untouched. Not even animals dare to approach the cabin, knowing that a fate worse than death awaits them.  It has been that way for eighteen years, but tonight, the air has changed.  Something wicked or righteous stirs in the forest.  It is too soon to tell which is coming.   

Smoke billows from the cabin’s chimney and curls into the air, swirling around the cabin and shielding it from view.  Three sisters stand on the porch.  One young, one old, one hag stare together through the smoke at the trees in the distance.  Their hands are joined, and they chant under their breath. 

“They are less than a day away,” the oldest sister says.  She is the plainest of the three.  Deep lines are etched on her face with a permanent scowl.  She keeps her gray hair in a tight braid that hangs down to her waist and her cloak pulled over her head.  Her milky eyes stare toward the trees, and she sighs.  “We do not have time to move her.”

The second sister scoffs loudly.  “We couldn’t stay hidden forever.  We did our job.  We kept her safe until her eighteenth birthday.  We should leave her behind.” 

“Eliane!” The youngest sister gasps.  “Do you feel nothing for the girl?  She has been in our care since she was a baby.” 

“I am thinking about us,” Eliane screams.  Her fiery red hair glows from under her cloak as she gets angry.  “What do you think the Lycan King will do when he finds we have been hiding his mate?  It is only a matter of time until they break through our wards.” 

The older sister scoffs, “Are you suggesting that my magic isn’t what it used to be?” 

“That is exactly what I am saying,” Eliane snaps at her.  “We should cut our losses and leave.  Without the girl.”

The oldest and youngest sisters glance at each other. They know Eliane is right, but they have grown attached to Alora and do not wish to leave her behind. They have fulfilled their duty to the Fae King. Alora is eighteen; they kept her safe, but her father has yet to return for her. 

“The Lycan King will come for her,” the youngest sister cries. 

“What would you have us do, Kaia,” Eliane screams.  “We cannot protect her from him forever.  He has his own coven.  They will break through our magic and kill us all.” 

“I won’t leave her behind,” Kaia shouts.  Her green eyes are flashing wildly.  She is losing control of her powers in her anger.

“Enough,” the oldest sister screams.  “We will not leave her unprotected.” 

“What do you suggest, Anila?” Eliane asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We will put her to sleep,” Anila says softly so only her sisters can hear.

Kaia gasps in disgust.  “You are suggesting we kill her ourselves?”

“Of course not,” Anila snaps.  “She will only be sleeping.  Her magic will be suppressed, and he will not be drawn to her.  He may leave us alone.”   

Eliane cocks her head to the side curiously.  “Have you seen it?”  She asks her sister.  “Will this plan of yours work?” 

Anila does not dignify Eliane with a response.  She spins on her heels and walks back into the cabin.  Her sisters follow her closely but do not utter a word about what was spoken outside.  Alora can’t know of the plan that is to take place, she must remain in the dark if it is to work.   

She is sitting in the corner, quietly knitting. Her Raven hair acts as a curtain shielding her face, only her pointed ears peeking out would let you know that she is not human.  When the sisters shuffle into the cabin, she raises her head and smiles in their direction.  Her blue eyes glitter with unshed tears.  She sets down her knitting and gets to her feet. 

“You three have never been good at secrets,” Alora whispers.  “Let's not start now.”

“Eavesdropping is not befitting of a Princess,” Kaia chastises her playfully. 

“The veil to the Fae Kingdom is still closed,” Alora says with certainty.  “The Lycan King will feel my presence now that I am of age.  You must leave.  He will not treat you kindly for hiding me.” 

“I am worried how he will treat you,” Kaia says with tears in her eyes.

“I do not fear my fate,” Alora sighs.  “I am the heir to the Fae Kingdom.  He will not hurt me.  When the veil opens once again, my father will come for me.” 

Anila shakes her head as she staggers about the cabin.  Blindly, she is picking ingredients off the shelves.  She is determined to put the Princess to sleep.  Her sisters try to stop her, but Anila is determined. 

She meddles over the open fire, mixing ingredients into the cauldron and mumbling under her breath.  A very foul-smelling stench fills the cabin, and Alora wrinkles her nose.  “Do I have to drink that?” 

“No,” Anila replies quickly. 

She dips her fingers into the foul liquid and draws symbols on the floor around Alora.  The other sisters watch quietly until she is finished. 

Anila reaches for her sisters hands, and they both hesitate.  “We are not a full coven,” Eliane whispers. 

“Three will work,” Anila hisses at her. 

They grasp each other's hands, with Alora standing quietly in the middle.  Anila lifts her face to the sky and begins the chant, and the sisters join in.

In the depths of shadows and silence wide,

We weave a dream for secrets to hide.

Witches water, fire, earth, and sea

Bring forth a sleep she cannot flee. 

By the light of the Moon and the breath of living,

Let her powers be bound and unforgiving.

Only until in safe arms her fate, 

In this slumber she will wait.

Bound by night and starlit skies,

Rest, dear soul, till dawn shall rise.

Through years to come, let dreams be found,

In this deep sleep, your soul is bound.

The song fills the air as the sisters repeat the incantation, and Alora’s eyes grow heavy.  Swaying on her feet, Alora drops lifelessly to the ground.  Kaia stops singing and falls to her knees.  Tears drip from her eyes onto Alora’s face as she tries to lift her from the ground. 

“We will see her again,” Anila says quietly. 

“Lies have never become you, Sister,” Eliane replies gruffly. 

“They are here,” Anila whispers.  “The wards are breaking down.”

Grabbing her chest, Anila leans against the cabin wall.  While her wards break down outside, the magic is draining from her body.   

A bang rattles the cabin.  Eliane darts to the window and peers outside.  She shakes her head and pulls on her cloak.  Covering her fiery red hair, she walks to the front door.  As soon as she flings it open, she is pierced through the heart by an arrow.  She falls to her knees, clutching the arrow in her chest.  She rips it from her flesh and tosses it to the ground beside her.  A shrill laugh leaves her mouth as she falls forward.   

Her lifeless body is kicked to the side, and a massive man steps over her body.  His eyes scan the room, looking for Alora, but he sees the other two sisters first. 

“Which one of you is the oracle?” He demands to know. 

Kaia attempts to step forward in an act to save her sister, but Anila pulls her back.  “I am the oracle,” Anila says. 

Without taking his eyes off Anila, the man throws a knife, and it sticks into Kaia’s chest.  She whimpers loudly as she falls to the ground. 

“You are lucky you are blind,” the man chuckles.

He saunters across the room to Alora and looks down at her curiously.  “What did you do to her?” 

“She is dead,” Anila lies.

“We will see about that,” he growls.  “It is impossible to kill a Fae.”    

Gathering Alora in his arms, he cradles her closely to his chest as if she is a precious gem.  He storms out of the cabin, leaving Anila alone with the bodies of her sisters. 

“Bring the oracle,” the man shouts to one of his men.  “She may be useful.”

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