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Alaric The message from Pine Valley Pack arrives before dawn - multiple wolves injured in a coordinated attack, wounds that won't heal properly. They beg for help, but what catches my attention is the opportunity their request presents.Away from politics. Away from noble wolves' schemes. Away from everything keeping me from having a proper conversation with my mate."You can't be serious," Lord Marcus protests when I announce my intentions. "Both you and the healer leaving? Now?""They're a small pack under my protection," I remind him. "And these attacks grow worse. We need to understand what we're facing.""Send guards then," Victoria's father suggests. "Surely the Lycan King doesn't need to go himself.""They’re a small pack without the means we enjoy here in Silver Crown. They need someone to assess their defenses and understand how their king can help them." I let power color my tone. "They need both leadership and healing. They'll have both."More protests follow, but I silenc
Sage The room feels impossibly small as the Beta leaves us with an awkward bow. One bed, two chairs, a small window letting in moonlight. No escape from this conversation we've been avoiding.As soon as the door closes, I turn to Alaric. "Earlier, when their Alpha was describing the attacks - you had a theory. I could see it in your eyes. What aren't you telling everyone?"He moves closer, power rolling off him in waves. "No.""No?" I back up, bumping into the door. "What do you mean, no?""I mean," he crowds me against the wood, hands planting on either side of my head, "that we're not discussing pack business right now. We're going to talk about us."My heart thunders traitorously at his proximity. Even angry, my body remembers his touch, craves it."There is no us," I try to sound firm despite my racing pulse. "You made that clear when you kept the mate bond secret.""Is that what you think?" His voice drops lower, dangerous. "That I don't want you? That I've ever not wanted you?"
AlaricDawn hasn't quite broken when I wake with Sage curled against my chest, silver-blonde hair spilling across my arm. The mate bond hums with contentment despite the residual tension between us. Last night, after our confrontation, after tears and explanations and careful steps toward reconciliation, she let me hold her. Let me press kisses to her face, her throat, anywhere I could reach, and I have a very long reach, while whispering all the things I should have told her months ago."You're staring," she murmurs without opening her eyes."Can't help it." I trace her cheek with my thumb. "You're beautiful in the morning light. I’ve never seen anything more stunning."She tries to maintain her stern expression but the bond betrays her pleasure at my words. "Sweet talking won't get you completely forgiven.""No?" I nuzzle her neck where my mark should be, will be someday. "What about this?"Her breath catches. "Still angry with you.""I know." I press a kiss to her pulse point. "You
Sage Silver Crown's gates loom before us, and I feel my spine stiffening automatically. After the relative freedom of Pine Valley, returning to royal pack politics feels suffocating.Alaric reins his horse closer to mine. "Wait," he says quietly. "Before we enter..."The others ride ahead slightly, giving us privacy."We need to talk about how things will be here," he continues. "I know we're working through things, and I don't want any more misunderstandings."My heart clenches, but the mate bond carries his sincerity. "You mean you’ll be keeping your distance again.""Yes." His eyes hold mine. "Not because I'm ashamed or uncertain, but because the gathering will bring every political schemer in the territories here. While most of the kingdom would be overjoyed to see their king in love, these wolves will look for any weakness to exploit, any way to undermine us, if they think it will gain them power.""And I'm a weakness?" I can't quite keep the hurt from my voice."No, sweetling."
Alaric The royal seal hardens in red wax as I press it into the last summons. Not invitations - I can't leave this to choice. Every pack in my territories will send representatives, whether they like it or not. If we’re to defeat these aberrations, these vile, warped insults to the name of wolf, we’ll have to find a way to work together.Besides, something tells me these malicious creatures are merely puppets while someone with power and wealth is pulling the strings. Having them all in one place will give me the chance to learn more about who that might be. But I keep that suspicion to myself for now. "The Northern Alliance won't take kindly to being commanded," Garrett observes, watching me work."They'll take even less kindly to being destroyed piece by piece." I hand him the stack of sealed documents. "Send our fastest messengers. I want these delivered personally to every Alpha."Through the mate bond, I feel Sage's approval from where she sits nearby, pretending to be engrossed
Sage The packhouse buzzes with activity as the first visiting packs arrive. From my window, I watch carriages and wolves in travel form stream through the gates, far more than attended the last disastrous affair. Each arrival brings new scents, new politics, new potential allies or enemies.“We are stronger now,” Aura reminds me as anxiety flutters in my chest. “No longer the scared omega from Blackthorn.”She's right. I touch my pendant, drawing strength from who I've become - the last heir of the healing packs, finally coming into my power.Through the mate bond, I feel Alaric's pride and protective instincts as he greets ranked visitors. His beast wants to stay close to me, but we both understand the necessity of distance right now."Lady Sage?" A young healer from one of the arriving packs approaches tentatively. "We've heard so much about your methods..."More healers gather as I demonstrate techniques for treating mutant wolf attacks. Some watch skeptically, others with open fas
Sage “Hello again, my little mate.” The audacity of those words, combined with the smug look on his face, is enough to send fire through my veins, burning through the ice that’s held me frozen. I feel the sting of my hand on his face before I even realize I’ve moved. A collective gasp fills the silence that descended as the gathered dignitaries watched our exchange with baited breath. His head snaps to the side from the force of my blow, but when he turns back, his eyes glitter with something that makes my stomach turn. Not anger - appreciation. Like I've done exactly what he hoped I would."Such spirit," he purrs, touching his reddening cheek almost lovingly. "I always knew it was there, buried beneath all that... submission." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "How delightful to see it finally surface."My skin crawls at the way he looks at me - like I'm a prize that's only become more valuable. Like my newfound strength just makes the game more interesting. "You dare strike a
Alaric My claws leave gouges in my desk as I struggle for control. The beast inside me roars to hunt down Cassius, to tear him apart for daring to touch my mate, to call her his.But I'm the Lycan King before I'm anything else. And right now, every ranked wolf in my territories watches how I handle this."We can't just remove him," Garrett says, reading my thoughts. "Not without legitimate cause.""Legitimate cause?" I snarl. "He tried to have her executed. And he dares to come here and call her mate? She has a mate and it sure as fuck isn’t him!""But no one knows that, do they? And his offense against Sage was months ago, in another territory. Right now, he's playing the perfect diplomat."He's right. Through the mate bond, I feel Sage's tension as she works in the healing wing, almost like Cassius is watching her with predatory interest again. But he maintains careful distance, perfect manners. To outside observers, he appears reasonable - even magnanimous about her slapping him.A
Alexander I stand in the doorway of Lyra's chambers, all my carefully prepared words evaporating at the sight of her. She looks exhausted but resolute, chin lifted slightly in that way I've come to recognize means she's bracing for an argument. The bond between us pulses with conflicting emotions—relief at our proximity battling with the lingering tension from our courtyard confrontation."Can I come in?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended.She nods, stepping back to allow me entry. I close the door behind me, grateful for the privacy after our too-public disagreement earlier."I owe you an apology," I begin, pride giving way to more important priorities. "My reaction to your return was..." I search for the right word."Possessive? Accusatory? Completely unfair?" she supplies, though the slight curve of her lips takes some sting from the words."All of the above," I admit with a rueful smile. "I was worried sick, Lyra. The bond separation, the power surges, the reports of Vega's a
Lyra The palace looks different this time—less intimidating, more like a potential sanctuary than a gilded prison. Maybe it's because I'm not arriving as a captive or a curiosity, but as someone making a conscious choice to return. Or maybe I'm just too exhausted to be intimidated anymore."You okay?" Kieran asks, pulling his horse alongside mine as we approach the eastern gate."Just tired," I assure him, though that's only part of the truth. The bond with Alexander strengthens with every hoofbeat closer to the palace, the familiar silver warmth spreading through my chest after days of uncomfortable stretching.The guards at the gate snap to attention when they recognize me, their expressions a mixture of relief and curiosity. They wave us through with minimal questions, though I notice how their eyes linger on Kieran and the other healers with suspicion.Some things haven't changed, then.The eastern courtyard bustles with activity—servants carrying supplies, guards changing shifts,
Alexander "Your Highness, the eastern patrol has returned."I look up from the maps spread across my desk to see Captain Merrick standing at attention in the doorway. The grim set of his mouth tells me he's not bringing good news."Report," I command, straightening to my full height."We've confirmed the presence of at least eight individuals matching Northern territory descriptions moving through the eastern forests." He points to the area on my map where Lyra's healing community had relocated. "They're using search patterns consistent with tracking specific targets, not random patrols."My stomach knots. "How close to the healer settlement?""Too close," he admits. "Less than five miles from their last known location."A surge of power—part Alpha, part healing—runs through me at the news, making the maps glow faintly beneath my hands. I've been fighting these manifestations all day, each one stronger than the last as the bond between Lyra and me stretches with our separation."Shit,
Lyra "What existed between us was real," I acknowledge quietly. "Friendship, respect, potential for more. I never denied that.""And now?" His question carries no accusation, only sincere desire to understand where my boundaries are now."Now complexity exists where once things seemed so simple between us, so easy." I reply, honesty demanded by years of trust between us. "The bond with Alexander doesn't erase what came before, but it changes the context irrevocably."He reaches out slowly, giving me time to withdraw if I choose, and gently brushes a strand of hair from my face. The casual intimacy of the gesture—one he's performed countless times before—suddenly carries a different weight, awareness crackling between us like the static before a storm."If fate hadn't intervened," he murmurs, "if you'd never met him...""We can't know that path because we're not walking it," I interrupt gently, though I don't pull away from his touch. "Speculating about what might have been only makes
LyraThe familiar scents of wild herbs and wood smoke welcome me as we crest the final ridge overlooking our community's temporary settlement. After the palace's overwhelming grandeur, the simple cluster of hide tents and wooden shelters feels like drawing a deep breath after being underwater too long. My shoulders relax instinctively, the tight knot of tension court life created beginning to loosen."You look happier already," Kieran observes, pulling his horse alongside mine. His green eyes study me with the perception that comes from years of friendship. "The palace weighs on you.""It's... different," I acknowledge, remaining deliberately neutral despite the relief coursing through me. "Complex in ways I never imagined.""And the prince?" he asks carefully. "Is he worth the complexity?"The question carries layers beneath its simplicity. Through our temporarily stabilized bond, I feel Alexander's presence like a silver thread stretched thin but unbroken between us. Even discussing
Alexander Throughout the day, power surges continue with increasing frequency and intensity. During an afternoon security briefing, my Alpha energy flares so strongly that decorative weapons mounted on the walls rattle in their holdings. Later, while reviewing border reports, healing power manifests as visible glow surrounding my hands, making parchment maps luminescent where I touch them.By evening, controlling these manifestations requires constant focus, draining energy needed for royal duties that cannot be postponed despite my discomfort. The council reconvenes to discuss increased activity along the eastern border—reports of strangers matching Northern territory descriptions moving through regions where healing communities traditionally hide."Vega's agents, most likely," Dominic assesses, pointing to locations marked on the tactical map. "Their movement patterns suggest searching rather than random patrol.""Searching for what?" Lord Harrison questions."Not what—who," I corre
Alexander The council chamber feels like a trap this morning—a gilded cage of obligation, duty, and politics that keeps me from what I truly want to be doing. My attention drifts repeatedly toward the window, toward the eastern gate where I know Lyra will soon depart with Kieran. Every instinct rebels against letting her leave the palace, letting her travel with another man who clearly harbors feelings for her."Your Highness?" Lord Harrison's voice cuts through my distraction. "Your thoughts on the Northern territories' proposal?"I refocus on the documents before me, forcing composure over agitation. "Their offer of partial reparations is insufficient," I state, scanning the diplomatic language that disguises the Northern delegation's attempt to minimize consequences for their actions. "They participated in an unprovoked attack on our throne. I won’t accept anything less than full accountability."The council members exchange glances, some approving, others concerned."The Northern
LyraThe council chambers occupy an imposing section of the palace, all dark wood and serious faces. When I enter, conversation halts abruptly. Alexander stands at the head of a long table scattered with maps and documents, looking exhausted but commanding. Relief crosses his features when he sees me."Lyra, thank you for coming," he says, gesturing me forward. "The council requires information about Vega's capabilities and possible locations."I step further into the room, acutely aware of the scrutiny from a dozen pairs of eyes. Most expressions range from skeptical to overtly hostile, with only Dominic and Elara offering friendly faces among the assembled advisors."Surely there are more reliable sources of intelligence than a... healer," one councilor objects, the pause before "healer" making the word sound like an insult."You’d do well to remember my mother, your queen, is a healer. As am I.” Alexander snaps, a hint of Alpha authority edging his tone. “Lyra has firsthand experien
Lyra Dinner progresses with excruciating formality. I struggle with the bewildering array of utensils, the unfamiliar dishes, the careful dance of court conversation where nothing is directly stated and everything carries double meaning. Kieran fares no better, his discomfort evident in his tense posture and minimal responses.Alexander tries to include us in conversations, explaining context and introducing friendly nobles, but his attention is constantly divided. Royal matters continuously draw him away—urgent whispers from advisors, formal greetings required by protocol, political discussions that cannot wait despite the occasion.Each time he's pulled away, our fragile bond stretches thinner, fluctuating uncomfortably. Across the table, I notice Elara watching with concern, clearly perceiving the strain through her growing abilities."The court will always demand his attention," Kieran murmurs during one such absence. "This is his life, Lyra. Endless politics, endless obligations.