The whispers began before sleep had fully claimed her.Soft. Insidious. A voice neither of this world nor the next.Lycia stirred, but her body was no longer her own. Her feet moved, silent as the shadows, drawn to the unseen call.After what seemed like a long discussion with Cove, she finally retired to what used to be her prison. Sleep pulled her under like an unseen tide, dragging her into darkness.But this was no ordinary slumber.A whisper floated through the air; soft, ethereal, curling around her ears like a lover’s breath. A chill ran down her spine. Then another, layered upon the first, overlapping and weaving together like ghostly fingers brushing against her skin.She shuddered.Lycia’s breath hitched. Something felt wrong. The room seemed colder than before, the silence too absolute. Was she dreaming? Or awake?Then, the whisper changed.More insistent. More urgent.“Move!.” It whispered.Her fingers twitched. Her heart pounded. The air around her felt thick, heavy, char
Lycia stiffened. “A prophecy? I think you have me mistaken. You see, I am only but a prisoner here. I don’t think I’m the one.”Maya’s gaze darkened, the weight of centuries pressing into her voice. She reached out, gripping Lycia’s shoulders with a quiet urgency that sent a shiver down her spine. “Listen to me, child,” she whispered, her tone raw with unshaken certainty. “You are more than you know; more than what they have told you, more than the blood that runs through your veins. You are destiny woven into flesh, a force the world has tried to silence, but it cannot. It will not.”Her fingers tightened, her eyes burning with an intensity that sent Lycia’s heart pounding. “You were never meant to be ordinary. You were never meant to bow. They will come for you, they will try to break you, but you….” Maya’s voice trembled with a fierce tenderness. “You will rise, child. You will burn brighter than the night they have tried to drown you in.”Lycia swallowed hard, her breath unsteady.
A few weeks had gone by, yet the memory of what she had experienced with Maya still lingered in Lycia’s mind. It wasn’t just a warning; it was a certainty, and she was sure of it. Something was coming, something far greater than she could comprehend. And if she wasn’t ready, if she couldn’t control the storm brewing inside her, the consequences would be disastrous.But she couldn’t share it. Not with anyone, as of that moment she couldn’t trust anyone.The weight of it pressed down on her, a secret she had to bear alone. No one would understand, not truly. And even if they did, what could they do? This was her fight, her burden as Maya had said.She found herself walking through the vast estate, wandering into the forest. It was much more silent, all she could hear was the rustling of leaves beneath her boots. The moon’s light filtered through the flora canopy, casting silver streaks across the clearing where she trained alone. Every night, she came here, pushing herself, trying to co
Lycia felt the shift in the moment she walked into the training ground. The air was thick with unspoken tension, pressing down on her like a weight. Conversations quieted as she entered, but the stares remained; lingering, calculating.Raven’s presence still clung to her like a ghost, her touch, her voice, the unsettling promises she had whispered. She could hear the hushed whispers, see the way people turned to each other, speaking just low enough that she couldn’t catch the words. But she didn’t need to. The cautious glances, the wariness in their eyes, told her everything.Raven’s words had already spread like wildfire, poisoning the air around her. Lycia forced herself to move forward, head high, steps steady. She had survived Raven’s games. Now, she had to survive this.“She doesn’t belong here.” The words slithered through the air, hushed yet sharp, spoken by a woman with narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Her fingers curled around the edge of her cloa
The warriors' cheers echo through the training grounds, their roars of excitement vibrate through the earth, a clash of approval and bloodlust that fuels the battle unfolding before them. The sound is deafening, howls growing louder with every second, yet beneath it all, a different kind of weight settles over the onlookers.Lycia’s chest rose and fell, the heat still pulsing through her veins, but something deeper; was stirring inside her.The training ground was no longer just a battlefield. It had become an altar, and she was standing at its center, something sacred and cursed in the same breath. The whispers of the Lycans had died out, replaced by stunned silence, their bodies tense, and their instincts screaming at them to recognize the shift in power.Then Morrigana moved.With a wild snarl, Morrigana charged. No tricks, no games; just pure rage.Lycia barely had time to react before they crashed into each ot
The air was still thick with tension.Lycia’s breaths came fast and sharp, her body still burning from the brutal fight she just had with Morrigana. She had dirt clinging to her skin, mixing with sweat and she was clearly too exhausted to care about her looks. The training grounds had fallen into stunned silence, all eyes locked onto her and him.Cove.The Alpha.Cove stood tall before her, his silver eyes looking into hers, unreadable and unwavering. He extended his hand to help her stand up; a help Lycia thought to be a silent command and unspoken order.Lycia didn’t move.Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, jaw tight. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, but she refused to show weakness. When she finally spoke, her voice was like steel.“I don’t need your help.”Cove’s thoughts didn’t change, but the look on his face showed he clearly was not up for games. For a moment, he simply watched her, as if weighing whether she was worth the patience.Then he exhaled, slow an
[Back at the Training Grounds] Lycia’s breaths came fast, shallow, her chest rising and falling as she held Cove’s gaze. She hated the way he looked at her; like he had already won. Like she was his, whether she wanted to be or not. “You can glare at me all you want, little thief,” Cove murmured, his voice deceptively soft. “But at the end of the day, you still stand where I tell you to.” Lycia scoffed, but the sound lacked its usual bite. Her body still ached from the fight, her strength waning. “I don’t stand anywhere for you.” Cove took a slow, deliberate step closer, his towering presence swallowing the space between them. She tried to move but yelped from pain. “You’re hurt,” he noted, voice low, controlled. “You should’ve let me help you up.” Lycia looked at her ankle. She must have sprained it while trying to dodged Morrigana’s attack. She still lo
“You can put me down now,” she muttered, voice quiet but stubborn. Cove didn’t answer. He simply kept walking. Lycia clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to lean into Cove’s warmth. She hated this. Hated the way her body betrayed her, how exhaustion made her weak enough to accept this; even for a second. But then she noticed the direction he was taking, it wasn’t the way to her room; and her frustration shifted to confusion. “We’re not going to your quarters, right?” she asked warily. “No,” he said flatly. A flicker of unease crept in. “Then where…” The answer came when he pushed open a heavy wooden door, and the scent of herbs hit her senses; dried sage, crushed lavender, and the sharp bite of rosemary mingling in the air. Lunara, the pack’s healer, stood in the center of the dimly lit chamber, her violet eyes sharp as she studied them. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of dried herbs, vials of shimmering liquid, and aged scrolls containing knowledge only
So later that night.The music had thinned. Laughter faded into tired murmurs. The feast was ending.Morrigana returned to the grand hall, slipping back beside Anya like she had never left.Damien, glazed with wine and slouched in his seat, barely noticed her return.But Anya did.Anya leaned over, murmuring something to the guards before brushing her lips close to Damien’s ear. “You’ve had enough wine for tonight, darling. Come. Let’s retire.”The guards moved to escort him. He didn’t protest, he never did when Anya used that voice.Before Anya could rise too, Morrigana gently caught her wrist with a gracious smile. “Forgive the interruption, Luna Anya,” Morrigana said smoothly, her tone laced with just enough sweetness to coat the malice underneath. “Alpha Cove asked for you. Said it’s urgent, southern wing, his study precisely. Something about... discussing some personal affairs.”She leaned in slightly, voice dropping like a secret shared between women.“Sounded rather... pri
Back to the lycan hall, Damien was still toasting in the name of gods no one believed in, making a mockery of the etiquette with every raised goblet in Cove’s estate.He lifted yet another drink, eyes lazily raking over the crowd—until they stopped. And saw her. Again. Lycia.She moved across the hall, a tray of goblets in her hands, serving guests with quiet poise. Her steps were graceful, almost regal. Too graceful for a servant.Damien’s gaze sharpened. A slow grin tugged at his lips. With naughty thoughts running through his head. “I want her as my maid of honor while I’m here,” he said, as if it were the most casual request in the world.Everyone on their table was a bit surprised by the request of Alpha Damien. I mean the request was quite unexpected. Cove’s voice sliced through the din, sharp and immediate. “That’s not happening Alpha Damien.”Damien’s goblet paused mid-air. His jaw clenched. He didn’t even glance at Lycia again. Morrigana, seated nearby, perked up like
Lucas walked back into the grand hall, jaw tight and unhappy. He had just come from the garden; where Seth’s voice had wrapped around him like silk. Every word had felt like a caress in disguise. A trap. Now, inside, laughter crashed like waves, wine shimmered; but it all felt distant. Blurred. Because Seth was still in his head. He slid into his seat, fingers curling around the table’s edge like he needed to anchor himself. One breath. Two breath. He was fine. He had to be. Then came the heat. The scent and presence of you know who. Seth. He took the seat beside him, much too close, their knees brushing. “You left in such a rush,” Seth said, voice a velvet blade. Lucas didn’t look at him. His spine stiffened. His face remained forward. He tried to focus. But none of it worked. Not when Seth watched him like a prey, patient and hungry. The hall continued burn bright. Spiced wine floated like temptation. Laughter erupted mostly from Damien, who was already mocking t
Lycia needed to see more.She brushed past a distracted guard, walking directly to the courtyard. “The whole damn courtyard feels like a theater rehearsal,” she muttered, slipping into the light.She almost numbed into a servant wobbling under a stack of velvet boxes.“Careful with that peasant,” Alpha Damien was said. “That Obsidian Talon alone could bankrupt your bloodline, crafted by Veyron the Elder himself.” He said boastfully, looking at everyone as Alpha Cove walked closely to himLycia arched a brow. “Must be nice to travel with your ego gift-wrapped.”“Well, well,” Damien said, polished boots crunching over the gravel as he spread his arms with theatrical grace. “Still broody. Still stern. Honestly, Cove, I’m starting to think you sleep standing up in a coffin.”He paused dramatically, tilting his head with mock concern.“Cove, you really should try smiling. Or drinking. Or, gods forbid…” he leaned in, voice lowering like a secret brushing Cove’s ear. “Getting laid. You lo
“Open the gates! Now!” a commanding voice echoed from the estate’s watchtower. “Move those damn carts, you fools!” barked another voice, the commander, his tone sharp with impatience. “Get those horses under control before they crush someone!” Warriors scrambled to clear the path as the carriage convoy rolled in, wheels grinding over cobblestone. "Ehh! That’s Vanor steel on the trim," one of the guards muttered under his breath. "Wait... Is it really him?" "Who?" The guard slapped the back of his companion’s head playfully, a grin tugging at his lips. “Idiot. You don’t know anything, do you? "Naigel, come on! You always hit me. That’s not fair" he called out, his voice gentle but laced with concern. “That’s the Silverstone Pack’s alpha. How do you not recognize him?” He chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're even paying attention." "I thought he never left the North..." Before the conversation could go any further, the commander stepped forwa
“And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’re right. I’m just a thief. But I do it to survive. To cater for Jack.” Her words sank into him like stone. Cove stepped forward, slow. Measured and Careful. “You know, people fear what they don’t understand,” he said. “You are an outsider. I think that’s pretty normal. And you’re stubborn.” She scoffed bitterly. “Yeah, well. That didn’t get me far, did it?” He sat down on the grass, a few feet away. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to see her clearly in the fading light. They sat in silence, the weight of it not entirely uncomfortable. For a second, the world narrowed to just this: two people who had no business understanding each other—yet somehow, did. Cove studied her face. The bruises under her eyes. The way her lips trembled. She looked like she was falling apart. And it shook him— and deep in his heart for some reason he knew how much he wanted to stop it. He surprised himself by asking, “Do you want to talk about h
He was shirtless, his body still sweaty from the intense training he was having. His developed muscles flexed, but he welcomed the ache. It kept his mind from wandering, or thinking about the problems he had. Life as an alpha isn't all that easy you know. Being in his garden wasn’t the usual thing for him. But he did not come here to take a walk. The garden was her place—it was quiet. Something about the silence gave him peace of mind. And he needed to clear his mind. Training had been his escape, his way of silencing the chaos swirling in his thoughts, and he didn’t want to do it at the training ground. He wanted to be away from everyone else, away from the drama. Then he heard it. A soft fragile sound that he knew was unusual. It didn't belong to the winds or the trees. It was a sobbing sound. Someone was sobbing. And he wondered who it was. He slowed his steps, brow furrowing as he followed the sound. And there; behind the raspberry bushes was someone, curled in on herse
"About time," she drawled, crossing her arms. Oric walked in with a smug grin, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Had something to take care of,” he said with a shrug, as if that explanation should satisfy her. Morrigana raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, what’s this? Did you stop to pick flowers along the way?" Oric smirked, his usual confidence evident. "Spying requires a little finesse, Morrigana, not impatience," he said, his hands still tucked in his pockets. "But I suppose that's a concept only a sentinel could understand." He tilted his head, his face gleaming with mischievous content. Morrigana rolled her eyes. "Spare me the wisdom, Oric. Just tell me what you found before I die of curiosity." He studied her for a moment, as if debating whether to make her wait just to be annoying. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he relented. "She walks alone every now and then slipping away before dawn. This time she went deeper into the woods than usu
"The Silver stone Pack arrives in a few days," Alpha Cove said, his voice firm as he unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the contents quickly. "Alpha Damien is the Alpha of the Silver stone Pack and the Alpha is a strategic player. This isn’t just a simple meeting. This could shift the balance in our favor securing him as an ally standing with us against our enemies; if we handle it corre..." He paused, turning to look at Lucas, who was standing at the table, hands resting on its edge but with his mind clearly elsewhere. "Lucas! We need to be sharp," Cove continued, his tone unwavering. "We can’t afford any mistakes. I need you to coordinate the preparations. Make sure everything is in order before they arrive." Lucas nodded absently, not fully processing the words. His mind kept drifting back to Doyle and the lingering scent he had caught earlier, that faint trace of someone else. The nagging feeling refused to leave him. It clawed at the back of his thoughts, demanding attent