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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
Sage My heart pounds with every shadow as I make my way to Alaric's quarters. Even at midnight, the packhouse isn't completely quiet - visiting wolves everywhere make sneaking around much more complicated.“You smell of desire,” Aura teases. “Anyone with a nose will know where you're going.”“Not helping,” I tell her, pressing against a wall as voices approach.When I finally reach his door, it opens before I can knock. Alaric pulls me inside and immediately pins me to the wall, his mouth claiming mine hungrily."Took you long enough," he growls against my lips."Some of us can't just order everyone away," I gasp as his lips find my neck. "Had to wait for the halls to clear..."His hands slide under my nightdress. "Good girl, wearing something easy to remove."Heat pools in my core at his words, at his touch. Growing bold, I reach for the buttons of his shirt, wanting to explore him the way he always explores me. His ragged purr when my hands roam the bare skin of his chest tells me h
Cassius They think they're so clever, maintaining careful distance in public. But I can smell him on her - pine and winter wind clinging to her skin beneath her own honeysuckle scent. The Lycan King's touch is all over what should have been mine.Watching them now at morning council, anyone else might miss their subtle tells - how his eyes track her movements, how she unconsciously angles toward him. But I see everything. I always have.What they don't understand is that this isn't about a spurned mate claiming what he lost. This is about power - pure, raw power that radiates off her now. The way wounds heal under her touch, the way others naturally follow her lead despite themselves... she's become something rare. Something valuable.The noble wolves are pathetically easy to manipulate. A few careful words about propriety, about a king compromising himself with an omega of unknown origins, and they practically write the scandal themselves."Such a shame," I murmur to Victoria, who ha
Sage The healing wing buzzes with activity as visiting healers watch me demonstrate techniques for treating mutant wolf wounds. Even with Cassius's presence casting a shadow over the gathering, I refuse to shrink from my duties."The silver-leaf mixture is key," I explain, showing them proper proportions. "Combined with moonflower essence...""Just like the ancient texts described," one elderly healer murmurs with respect. "For so long, we believed none of it was true. But you do it instinctively."“Because it's in our blood,” Aura reminds me. “Our heritage is growing stronger each day.”A commotion outside draws attention - more injured warriors arriving from border patrols. I move immediately to help, other healers falling in naturally beside me."Thank the moon you're here," one warrior grits through pain. "Traditional methods barely touch these wounds anymore."I notice Cassius watching from the doorway, his face unreadable as pack members defer to my expertise. Whatever poison he
Alaric The last of the pack representatives have finally arrived and it’s time to get down to business. The great hall fills with more ranked wolves than it's held in generations. Representatives from every pack in my territories gather to face a threat none of us fully understand yet. Through the mate bond, I feel Sage's nervous energy from where she stands with other healers. Cassius watches her too intently from his position near Blackthorn's delegation, while Eris sits with Victoria's group on the opposite side. Their careful distance feels calculated, especially since she can’t seem to keep her eyes off him. Something about how the wolves arrange themselves catches my attention. Traditional allies sit apart, while packs that historically feuded now whisper together in corners. The usual political lines blur as new alliances form."Notice how Blackthorn's delegation splits their attention?" Garrett murmurs. "Half focused on defense discussions, half watching Sage's every move."
Sage "Remember how it used to burn between us?" Cassius's voice drips with false intimacy. "Those nights at Blackthorn when you'd sneak to my quarters..."I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt to provoke me. Let him play his games - I won't give him the satisfaction of a response."The way you'd beg so prettily for my touch," he continues. "Such passion for an innocent omega."It’s so ridiculous, I barely contain my laughter. Then I feel it - rage and betrayal flooding through the mate bond. Horror freezes me as I realize Alaric is nearby, that he heard…"How dare you!" I whirl on Cassius as Alaric's presence fades. "You lying snake! You planned this!"The satisfaction in Cassius's face tells me everything - he knew Alaric was there, planned this whole scene. My hands shake with rage at being manipulated, at being used to hurt Alaric.“He's trying to break you apart,” Aura snarls. “Using your past against you both.”"Now, now." His smile holds pure satisfaction. "Is that any way to sp
Lyra "Or another of your bloodline, though few remain." Thalia’s words bring me back to the present as she reaches for my hands, clasping them in her own. "The Northern delegation seeks a Silverspiral healer for their ritual. Whatever they plan, it involves the prophecy, the Lycan heir, and the disruption of the true mate bond you now share.""But why? What could they hope to gain?""Power," she says simply. "Control over the balanced power that the prophecy promises. If they can bind the heir to their bloodline instead of his true mate, they might redirect the fulfillment of the prophecy to serve their purposes."My mind races, connecting fragments of overheard conversations with this new information. "I overheard them speaking of a binding ceremony, of needing a healer of pure bloodline for a ritual to work properly.""A perversion of ancient magic," Thalia growls. "They would use your blood—your essence—to create a false bond between the prince and their princess, overriding the t
LyraI follow the hidden paths back to our secondary encampment, my mind still reeling from the encounter with Alexander. Every step increases the distance between us, and with it comes a physical ache I've only heard described in tales of true mates separated. The silver bond stretches taut between us, a constant reminder of what fate has decreed and duty denies.The dream flowers in my basket seem to pulse with their own soft luminescence in the fading light, their scent more potent than usual—or perhaps my senses are simply heightened by the awakening of the mate bond. Either way, their presence is a tangible reminder of my responsibilities to my people, responsibilities that now seem at odds with the pull of my heart.Our emergency settlement is well-concealed, nestled against a cliff face with natural caves providing shelter. Unlike our permanent enclave, this location is sparse, functional, designed for temporary safety rather than comfort. As I approach, I sense rather than see
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