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Alaric Her distress hits me like a physical blow, the mate bond pulsing with pain that isn't mine. I find myself outside her door before conscious thought, her scent tinged with salt and sorrow.When she opens at my knock, the sight stops my breath. Her face is carefully composed, but her eyes are red-rimmed, and she's methodically folding clothes into a small bag."Don't." The word comes out rougher than intended."My King—""Don't," I growl again. "Don't use my title. Not now."She turns away, but not before I catch the shine of fresh tears. "I won't leave without saying goodbye properly. I owe you that much.""You don't owe me anything." I move closer, my beast straining toward her pain. "But I deserve to know why.""You know why." Her laugh holds no humor. "The pack will never accept me. And you... you can't keep defending me without undermining your own authority.""So you'd just leave?" Something dangerous edges into my voice. "Run away in the night like a guilty thing?""Not in
Sage My fingers keep straying to my lips, still tingling from his kiss. From my first real kiss. Everything about it was different, better than the fantasies I’d conjured in my mind - the raw emotion in Alaric's eyes, the gentleness of his hands on my face, the way he held me like I was something precious. The memory of it makes me shiver - the way he gently but firmly demanded I let him in, the silk of his tongue sliding against mine as he dominated our kiss, showing me what to do. For a moment my lack of experience had gotten in my head, but then Alaric groaned, his sound of pleasure putting my mind at ease. He tasted of pine and winter wind and something wild that called to parts of me I didn't know existed. How his hands trembled slightly when they cupped my face, like he was touching something infinitely precious. The low sound he made when I gasped against his mouth, like something finally breaking free.It was so unlike the measured, controlled way he always carries himself.
Alaric Dawn light catches in her silver-blonde hair as she kneels in her ruined garden, methodically replanting what others destroyed. She doesn't flinch when I approach, doesn't startle at my presence anymore. The thought makes my beast purr with satisfaction."The moonflowers will bloom again by the next full moon," she says without looking up. "They're more resilient than people think."Like you, I don't say. Instead, I kneel beside her in the dirt, not caring about my formal clothes. "Show me how to help?"Her surprise makes something in my chest ache. "You don't have to—""I want to." I take the small trowel she offers. "Which ones first?"We work in comfortable silence, her hands sure and gentle as she guides mine in proper planting technique. My beast settles into rare peace, watching our mate create something beautiful from destruction."You're good at this," she says softly. "Building things back up."The words spark something I've been considering since our kiss. Since watch
Sage My hands shake as I try to memorize the ancient words. Three days seemed like plenty of time until now, hours before the ceremony."Again," Iris instructs, pacing our practice room. "And remember to keep your chin up this time.""I pledge my loyalty to this pack," I recite, "to honor its lands and protect its members. Under moon's witness, I choose this home, these wolves as mine—" My voice cracks on the last word."You've got this." Iris squeezes my hands. "Just like we practiced."But nothing feels practiced about the way my heart races, about the significance of what I'm about to do. For the first time in my life, I'm choosing where I belong.A knock interrupts us. Queen Helena enters, carrying something wrapped in silvery fabric."Every new pack member needs proper ceremony clothes," she says softly, unveiling a dress that steals my breath. Silver-white fabric shimmers like moonlight, delicate embroidery depicting healing herbs along the hem."I can't—" I start, but she shak
Sage "Really, Elizabeth, my grandmother's remedy would be much more appropriate," Victoria's voice carries across the training field where I'm tending to a sprained ankle.But before I can retreat, the young wolf I'm treating speaks up. "I prefer Sage's healing. Her methods work better." Elizabeth meets Victoria's cold stare steadily. "And she's pack now. The King himself said so."Warmth blooms in my chest as Victoria stalks away. These small moments of acceptance keep catching me by surprise - wolves defending me, seeking me out, treating me like I belong.Even now, watching morning training from my spot near the sidelines, I notice the difference. Warriors nod respectfully as they pass. Young wolves wave. Some even join me, curious about the medicines I'm preparing."The silver-leaf poultice you showed me saved three warriors last night," the head healer tells me as I make my rounds. She hands me a set of keys. "You should have access to the private stores. You're one of us now."I
Alaric She moves through the training grounds with growing confidence now, no longer trying to make herself invisible. My beast purrs watching younger wolves seek her out, seeing her slowly claim her place in our pack. In the morning sun, her silver-blonde hair catches light like starfire."My King." Garrett's voice pulls me from my vigil. If his use of my title instead of my name didn’t, his expression tells me everything before he speaks. "Three more packs report attacks. The mutations are spreading."Ice slides down my spine as I read the reports. The attacks follow a pattern, but one that makes no sense - small packs and large ones, traditional and progressive, no clear connection except growing brutality."The Northern Alliance is demanding action," Garrett continues. "They say as Lycan King—""I know what I am." I rub the back of my neck, cringing when the words come out sharper than intended.The council chamber buzzes with tension when I enter. Lord Marcus stands first, his ag
Sage "Just a little more yarrow," I instruct the River Pack healer, showing her how to mix the poultice. Her wounds from the attack still make her movements stiff, but her eyes are eager as she learns.More refugees arrived during the night - three families who barely escaped with their lives. Their injuries show the same strange patterns I've been noticing: wounds that resist traditional healing, marks that seem almost deliberate in their placement. Something about it tickles my memory, but I can't quite grasp what."The silver-leaf mixture you showed us yesterday helped," another healer tells me. "The burns finally started closing."Pride warms my chest as I watch them work. Not so long ago, I was afraid to show my healing knowledge. Now other packs seek it out."You've given them hope," Alaric's voice makes me turn. He stands in the healing wing doorway, power wrapped around him like a cloak but his eyes soften when they find mine. "Walk with me?"The moon rides high as we stroll t
Sage The packhouse has transformed into something from a fairy tale. Everywhere I look, servants hang crystal decorations that catch sunlight like trapped stars. The great hall, usually imposing with its ancient stone walls, now sparkles with silver and gold."No, no," Iris calls to workers arranging flowers. "The moonflowers need to be closer to the head table. They're Sage's signature after all."My chest warms at her casual inclusion of me in these royal preparations. But anxiety follows close behind - so much grandeur, so many protocols to remember."Stop thinking so loud," Iris scolds, linking her arm through mine. "You've got this. Though..." Her grin turns mischievous. "We should probably work on your dancing.""My what?""You don't think you're getting through a royal ball without dancing, do you?" She drags me toward the training hall, now cleared for dance practice. "Garrett! Perfect timing!"The Beta looks up from his paperwork, immediately suspicious of her tone. "Whatever
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