Managed three today. Thank you for reading!
SageAnother note, carefully folded and slipped beneath the herbs I'd set aside for morning sickness remedies. I unfold it with practiced caution, already knowing what I'll find – the same ancient script, the same vicious threats against my life, my child, our future."Your healing blood will spill before the abomination draws its first breath."I burn it like the others, watching ancient parchment curl and blacken to ash. Two months have passed since our announcement, my pregnancy now visible in the slight curve beneath my gowns. Two months of increasing threats, each more specific than the last. Each carefully hidden from Alaric.Through our bond, I feel him approaching before I hear his footsteps – his awareness of me heightened with each passing day of pregnancy. I scatter the ashes and compose myself before he enters our private study."You should be resting," he says immediately, noting the books spread across my desk. His protective instincts have only intensified as my body cha
Sage"I'll accompany you personally," Alaric decides finally, the words clipped with restrained emotion.When I fail to wilt under his kingly glare as the strongest of men often do, he determines this to be the compromise to end our stand-off. I’d be lying if I said the thought of spending my day in his company was unappealing. But I’d be an unworthy queen if I allowed him to shirk his duties for such an unnecessary cause. He’ll just have to find it within himself to behave rationally, however unlikely that may be. "You have border negotiations this afternoon," I remind him, victory within reach though I keep satisfaction from my tone. "Negotiations you've postponed twice already."The trapped expression that crosses his face would be almost comical in different circumstances – duty to kingdom versus protection of mate creating an impossible choice. Through our bond, I feel his beast's snarling rejection of any separation battling with the king's responsibility to handle threats that
Sage"The integration program shows remarkable progress," Lord Harrison reports, genuine approval evident in his typically measured tone. "Three territories have established healing centers staffed by wolves previously hiding their abilities."I try to focus on the council update despite the persistent ache in my lower back – a new development in my fourth month of pregnancy. Through our bond, Alaric's attention divides between council business and constant monitoring of my comfort, his awareness of my physical state sometimes exceeding my own."And security at these centers?" he questions, his priorities clear in the ordering."Comprehensive," Lord Harrison confirms. "As you specified, my King."What goes unspoken is the reason for such unprecedented security – not just protection for previously persecuted healers, but safeguards against those who might use healing centers to track my movements, my interests, my potential vulnerability.The past month has settled into an uneasy patter
AlaricThree hours.Three hours since her consciousness faded from our bond, leaving only a faint pulse of life where a vibrant connection should exist. Three hours of rage so consuming my partial shift remains permanent, claws extended, beast clawing beneath skin that can barely contain fury."The guards were found unconscious, specialized tranquilizer," Garrett reports, keeping physical distance as my beast's state demands. "The old wolf and supposed patient vanished completely."My roar shakes the command center walls, maps and reports trembling in its wake. Around me, warriors flinch but hold positions – every available fighter mobilized the moment Sage's desperate message pierced my mind. Cassius. Child. Prophecy.Three words that confirmed my worst fears, that transformed background vigilance to foreground war."How?" The question emerges as a growl, my voice distorted by my partial shift. "How did he get past our security? Our scouts? Our intelligence?"No one answers immediatel
AlaricNo further protest emerges as guards begin their methodical search, examining communications, personal items, even scent markers that might indicate recent contact with unauthorized territories. Through the still-strained bond, I focus completely on Sage's presence – faint but persistent, life force strong despite circumstances."My King," a guard approaches, his expression grave as he presents a scroll discovered among one council member's possessions. "This contains detailed security protocols for royal healing visits. Specifically, eastern village procedures."Lord Kincaid – elderly wolf who opposed integration of healing abilities from the beginning – maintains his dignified posture despite damning evidence. "Standard security briefing," he claims, though pallor beneath silver fur betrays awareness of position's weakness."With delivery route information?" The guard indicates specific notation on scroll. "Arrival times? Guard rotation details?"Silence confirms what evidence
SageConsciousness returns in fragments – disjointed awareness of the cold stone beneath me, distant dripping water, unfamiliar scents that speak of underground isolation. The paralytic compound that rendered me helpless gradually loosens its grip, limbs tingling painfully as sensation returns in increments too small to offer escape.But the most significant change occurs within – our bond, previously muffled to mere whispers, strengthens with each passing moment. Through it, I feel Alaric's focused rage, his determined pursuit, his absolute certainty of finding what's his.North, I project, gathering every detail my returning senses detect. Underground. Mountain stone. Running water nearby.My eyes finally cooperate enough to assess my surroundings– a chamber carved from a natural cave but modified with modern equipment. Medical monitors track my vital signs, specialized restraints secure my limbs despite the paralytic's lingering effects, and most disturbing, an entire section appear
SageTime moves in fits and starts as I struggle to focus through the drugs in my system. Still, I try to keep my eyes trained on the man threatening everything I hold dear. With each passing minute, my connection with Alaric grows stronger. I just have to hope Cassius doesn’t suspect, but thankfully his attention is occupied elsewhere. "I'm only being practical." Cassius studies the monitors tracking my vital signs. "Why limit ourselves to a single manifestation of combined bloodlines? Once you’ve delivered this child successfully, further pregnancies could prove just as promising."It’s verbal confirmation that my assumption was correct. Cassius intends not just to take our child, but to keep me as breeding stock for future offspring, experiments for his own gain."Alaric will kill you for this," I promise, certainty flowing through the bond I can now feel more clearly connecting me to my mate whose rage burns cold and calculating. "He won't stop until—""Your mate represents a temp
AlaricI race through the mountainous terrain in full Lycan form, needing a speed unachievable as a human, instinct and rage driving me beyond even Phantom’s normal limitations. My elite warriors struggle to keep pace, fear of disappointing their king nipping at their heels. I follow the weakening thread of our bond like a physical tether pulling me toward my mate and unborn child. Cassius may think he’s found a way to win, muting our bond. But he underestimates the strength of the ties that bind us together. As long a my mark adorns her neck, he’ll never hide her from me. Underground. Mountain stone. Running water nearby.Sage's projected thoughts reach me in fragments, her consciousness fighting through whatever compound Cassius used to suppress our connection. Suddenly the bond strengthens, just for a moment, as the drug temporarily releases its grip, her thoughts coming through stronger than before.North. Medical equipment. Long-term captivity planned.My answering rage flows th
AlexanderMy mother’s watchful eyes pierce right through me as she waits for me to speak. I consider lying, brushing off my questions as nothing more than curiosity. But I’ve never lied to her before, and I don’t intend to start now. "I found my true mate today," I say finally, the words both liberating and damning. "A healer named Lyra, from one of the hidden communities."Elara gasps softly while my mother's expression transforms from shock to a complex mixture of joy and concern. "The mate bond—you're certain?""As certain as you and Father were," I confirm. "The silver connection, instantaneous and undeniable.""Oh, Alex," Elara breathes, understanding immediately the impossible position I'm in. "The Choosing Gala, Princess Selene, the prophecy...""All pointing me in one direction," I finish grimly, "while fate pulls me in another."My mother rises, coming to me, her hands cool against my face as she studies me with those violet eyes so like my own. "A true mate is a gift beyond
Alexander The Grand Ballroom is even more crowded than the previous night, the competition among potential matches growing as the Gala progresses. By tradition, I should be narrowing my preferences, spending more time with those I find most suitable. Instead, I move mechanically through the required dances, my thoughts a thousand miles away in a forest clearing with a woman whose touch brought balance to my warring nature."Your Highness seems distracted tonight," observes Lady Mirella, the daughter of an influential Alpha from the Western territories, as we complete our obligatory dance."Forgive me," I say automatically. "Many matters require my attention with the coronation approaching."She simpers appropriately, but I can see the calculation in her eyes. All of them are watching, evaluating, strategizing—except Selene, who stands across the room in conversation with my father, her poise perfect as always but her gaze finding me repeatedly.I've successfully avoided her so far, pl
AlexanderEvery step away from Lyra feels wrong—physically painful in a way I've never experienced. The silver thread of our mate bond stretches but doesn't break, a constant pull urging me to turn back, to claim what fate has decreed is mine. My head pounds and my dual nature—healing and Alpha—roils inside me, more unsettled than ever before."Alex?" Dominic's voice breaks through my inner turmoil. "You need to slow down. You're practically running."I realize I've been striding through the forest at a punishing pace, as if physical distance might somehow diminish the connection I feel to her. I stop abruptly, bracing one hand against a tree trunk, struggling to bring my breathing under control."A true mate," I say, the words hollow with disbelief. "Now, of all times."Dominic says nothing, just watches me with concern etched on his features. He was there, he saw the connection spark between us, but he can't feel what I'm feeling—the bone-deep certainty colliding with equally powerfu
LyraMy healing ability activates instinctively, energy flowing through my fingertips into his arm. I sense immediately that something is wrong—his dual natures pulling against each other with increasing force, creating internal fractures where they should flow together."Your power is destabilizing," I tell him, medical concern momentarily overriding the more complicated emotions of our situation. "The Alpha strength and healing ability—they're fighting each other instead of balancing."He looks at me with surprise. "You can sense that?""I'm a healer," I remind him. "Diagnosing is what I do." I hesitate, then add, "But this is beyond my experience. I've never felt anything like the conflict in your energies.""The conflict has been growing stronger as my twenty-fifth birthday approaches," he admits. "Headaches, power surges, difficulty controlling either ability."His Beta watches our exchange with growing concern. "We should return to the palace," he suggests. "If you're unwell—""I
LyraThe moment I lock eyes with him, everything inside me shifts—rearranges itself around a truth I never expected to face. The legendary silver connection of true mates flares between us like a living thing, pulsing with recognition so fierce it nearly brings me to my knees.My basket tumbles from my fingers, precious dream flowers scattering across the forest floor. I rise to my feet, unable to look away from the man standing at the edge of the clearing. Even without the royal trappings, I would know him anywhere—the violet eyes that mark his heritage, the commanding presence that no plain clothing can disguise. Prince Alexander, heir to the throne, son of the king who descended from those who hunted my people to near extinction.My true mate."It's you," he whispers, his voice carrying easily across the clearing.I can't speak, can't move. Every instinct urges me forward, toward him, while every rational thought screams danger. The mate bond thrums between us, demanding acknowledgm
AlexanderAfter some discussion, Merrick provides us with a crude map marking the locations of reported sightings and the disturbance. With daylight still abundant, Dominic and I set out immediately, following the forest paths that grow increasingly wild as we move deeper into territory rarely traveled by royal patrols."This feels like crossing into another realm," Dominic comments as the forest changes character around us—older trees, more undergrowth, a stillness that seems almost watchful.I know what he means. There's a different quality to the air here, a sense of ancient presence. As we continue, I notice something else—a subtle resonance with my healing abilities, like a low vibration just beneath my awareness."There's power here," I murmur. "Old power."We reach the area Merrick marked as the site of the disturbance by mid-afternoon. At first glance, it appears to be nothing but dense forest, but closer inspection reveals signs of recent activity—broken branches, disturbed ea
AlexanderThe reports lie scattered across my desk, each more troubling than the last. For the past hour, I've been reading intelligence summaries from our border patrols—accounts of strangers asking questions about healing bloodlines, mapping remote areas where healing enclaves are rumored to exist, and in one case, pursuing someone through the forest near the eastern boundary."This can't be a coincidence," I tell Dominic, who stands by the window, his expression grim. "Not with the Northern delegation's sudden interest in the prophecy, their questions about Elara's abilities.""You think they're connected?" he asks, though his tone suggests he's already reached the same conclusion.I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "Three reports of strangers in Northern colors sighted near areas where healing communities might be hidden? During the exact week they arrive with prophecy texts mentioning both Elara and me?" I shake my head. "That's not a coincidence. That's coordination."D
SeleneI continue along the garden path alone, considering my next move. Securing Alexander's interest is proceeding well, despite his sister's suspicions. But I need to accelerate our connection without appearing desperate—a delicate balance.Lost in thought, I round a hedge to find Alexander himself seated on a stone bench, reading from an ancient text. He looks up, surprise flickering across his features before he composes himself and rises."Princess Selene," he greets me formally. "I didn't expect to find you here.""Your mother was giving a tour," I explain, "but was called away on royal business. She suggested I might encounter you here." I gesture to the book in his hands. "I hope I'm not interrupting.""Not at all." He hesitates, then adds, "I was actually reviewing the prophecy text your delegation brought."Perfect. "Have your scholars examined it?""They're doing so now." His penetrating gaze studies me. "It's remarkable how well-preserved it is, considering its age.""My a
SeleneI stare at my reflection in the ornate mirror, schooling my features into pleasant neutrality while my mind races. The pull of Alexander's hand away from mine at the Gala last night plays on repeat in my thoughts. The look of confusion, perhaps suspicion, in his violet eyes. I was careless. Too eager. I let my guard drop."Focus," I whisper to myself, adjusting the silver circlet nestled in my braided hair. For this morning's garden tour with the queen, I've chosen a pale blue gown that emphasizes my eyes and complements the royal colors without attempting to claim them as my own. Every detail matters. Every choice is calculated.A sharp knock sounds at my chamber door."Enter," I call, already knowing who it will be.Magistra Vega strides in, her severe gray gown and tight silver bun reflecting her uncompromising nature. My instructor since childhood, the woman who molded me into the perfect instrument for my people's ambitions."Well?" she demands without preamble. "Report."I