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Sage Everything hurts. I discover muscles I didn't know existed as I drag myself out of bed the morning after training. But the physical aches are nothing compared to the panic that sets in when Iris bursts into my room like a whirlwind."Emergency!" She's already throwing open the massive wardrobe that intimidates me daily. "The Northern Pack delegation is arriving tonight for a formal gathering. We have exactly eight hours to make you presentable."My stomach drops. "I can just . . . not go?"Iris spins to face me, hands on hips. "You're living in the Lycan King's packhouse. Attendance isn't optional.""But I'm just—""If you say 'just an omega' I will throw something at you." She rifles through dresses I've been too scared to touch. "You calmed a feral wolf yesterday. Pretty sure that earns you a seat at the table."Right. The incident that everyone's probably still talking about. I bite my lip, remembering the way Alaric looked at me afterward – like I was a puzzle he couldn't sol
Sage Dawn paints the training field in shades of gold as we gather for morning practice. I'm still sore from yesterday, but a different kind of tension thrums through me as I watch Alaric demonstrate today's defensive moves. His powerful frame moves with fluid grace, and I force myself to focus on the technique rather than the way his training shirt clings to his shoulders."You're staring," Iris whispers, appearing at my elbow."I'm studying his form," I protest, heat climbing into my cheeks."Oh, I bet you are." She grins wickedly. "Want to hear about the time he fell into the creek trying to show off for a pretty wolf?""Iris—""Partner up!" Alaric's command cuts through the morning air. Before I can move, Iris grabs my arm."You're with me today." Her smile promises trouble. "Time for some bestie bonding."We square off on the training mats. Iris moves into the first defensive stance, and I mirror her, remembering yesterday's lessons."Did you know," she says conversationally as w
Alaric From my office window, their laughter carries on the morning breeze. Sage and Iris sit in the garden, heads bent together over breakfast, sunlight turning Sage's silver-blonde hair to starfire. My lycan rumbles with contentment at seeing our mate happy, even if we can't claim her yet.Then the wind shifts, bringing a scent that turns my blood to ice. My parents are here. Three weeks early.By the time the guards announce their arrival, I'm already in the courtyard. Phantom paces beneath my skin, agitated by the approaching threat to our fragile peace.Father's power hits like a physical wave as their carriage arrives – cold, implacable Alpha energy that used to send me to my knees as a pup. Now I stand firm, though something deep inside still wants to flinch."Alaric." His voice carries the weight of decades of judgment. Even before he steps down, his eyes scan the courtyard, cataloging weaknesses. "Your eastern guard post is exposed. A child could breach it.""Father." I bow e
Sage The scent of healing herbs usually calms me, but today even the familiar routine of sorting leaves and roots can't quiet my nerves. The servants' whispers echo through the healing wing like falling leaves:"—alliance meeting—" "—King Perseus himself suggested—" "—perfect match, really—"I focus harder on the yarrow leaves in my hands, trying to make myself smaller, invisible. But invisibility is impossible when Eris sweeps through the door with King Perseus himself, her voice carrying with practiced precision."The Northern borders have always been our primary concern," she's saying. "My father's pack has defended that territory for generations.""Indeed." Perseus's cold approval makes me want to shrink into the shadows. "Your knowledge of pack politics is... refreshing."His gaze slides over me like I'm less than nothing. Eris's smile shows just a hint of fang."Oh, Sage dear," she trills. "Those leaves are for fever reduction. The healing wing really should have someone more...
Sage It's the fragments that catch my attention first – hushed voices drifting from Alaric's study as I pass."—becoming a liability—" "—can't protect the pack if we're constantly—" "—have to make a decision about the omega—"I freeze, pressing against the wall beside the partially open door. Alaric's voice cuts through the others, tight with tension."She stays. That's not up for discussion.""But my King, after what happened at the gathering—""I said no."The finality in his tone should be reassuring. Instead, it reminds me of all the times Cassius defended keeping me around at Blackthorn – right up until I became inconvenient.I slip away before they can discover me eavesdropping. The word "liability" echoes in my head as I make my way to the dining hall, hoping food might settle my churning stomach.The moment I enter, I know it's a mistake. Eris sits at a table with three other high-ranking she-wolves, their voices carrying just enough to seem unintentional."—always had a soft
SageThe moon is my only witness as I slip from the packhouse. Three hours until dawn – I've learned to measure time by shadows and silence. Blackthorn taught me that, along with how to move unseen, how to become nothing more than a whisper in the dark.My small bag weighs heavy against my back, filled with only essentials. No luxuries from the closet that was never mine. No delusions about belonging.The first guard patrol passes below my window – right on schedule. They're clockwork in their movements, just like at Blackthorn. Different pack, same predictable patterns. I count their steps until they round the corner, then ease into the shadows of the garden.The irony isn't lost on me as I use the defensive moves from training to avoid detection. Keep low, stay aware, use your surroundings. Alaric's voice echoes in my head, and I shove away the ache in my chest at the thought of him.A twig snaps nearby. I freeze, pressing against rough bark, barely breathing. Two guards pass so clos
Alaric I feel it first as a sharp spike of terror that isn't mine. The mate bond pulses with Sage's fear, yanking me from a meeting about border security."—and the northern patrols—" Garrett's voice fades as another wave hits me. Despair. Betrayal. Pain.I'm on my feet before I realize I'm moving. "Find her. Now.""Alpha?""Sage." Her name comes out as a growl. "Something's wrong."My beast claws beneath my skin as I stride through the packhouse, following traces of her scent. She was in the library recently – honeysuckle and rain lingering near her favorite window seat. But the trail goes cold at the entrance.More guards join the search. No one has seen her for hours. Each minute that passes sends my wolf into greater frenzy. The bond pulses with her distress, but I can't pinpoint her location."The grounds are clear," Iris reports, face tight with worry. "No sign of her in the gardens or training fields."A servant mentions seeing her run from my study earlier. When I burst in, he
Sage Cold stone seeps through my thin dress, but I can't stop shivering. The chains Eris insisted upon are too familiar – the same way Cassius bound me before... before…I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block the memories. Different dungeon. Different pack. Same lesson: I'll never be more than something to be caged.Footsteps echo on stone. The click of expensive heels, unhurried. Confident."Comfortable?" Eris's voice drips false concern. "I do apologize for the accommodations, but thieves can't be choosers.""We both know I didn't steal anything." My voice sounds smaller than I want it to.She examines her perfect manicured nails in the dim light. "Do we? The evidence seems quite clear. A silver candlestick from the royal vault, found in your possession. Really, what would your parents think?" Her smile curves like a blade. "Oh wait, you don't know who they were, do you? Perhaps they were thieves too."I curl tighter into myself, the chains clinking. "Why are you doing this?""Bec
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