In the mystical kingdom of Eldoria, where Lycans rule the night, King Aedric—ruthless, powerful, and feared by all—has spent years searching for his fated mate. When he finally finds her, he is stunned to discover she is human. Lillian Thorn, a healer raised in the outskirts of the human kingdom, has always felt different. When she is captured by Lycans and brought before their king, she refuses to bow. But the Moon Goddess has chosen, and the bond between them is undeniable. Torn between fear and desire, Lillian must navigate a court of beasts who see her as weak and unworthy. As war brews between the Lycans and rogue werewolves, a dark prophecy is uncovered—one that speaks of a queen who will unite two worlds. But powerful enemies will do anything to stop her. When betrayal strikes, leaving Lillian on the brink of death, she awakens changed—stronger, deadlier, and no longer just human. With an ancient evil rising and an empire at stake, Lillian and Aedric must stand together. Will their bond be enough to save their kingdom, or will fate tear them apart? A tale of passion, power, and destiny—where a human girl becomes a queen and a king learns the true meaning of strength.
view moreLillian stood over Selene’s lifeless body, her breath steady, her grip on the dagger unyielding. The forest was eerily silent now, the echoes of battle fading into the cold night air. Aedric reached for her, his warm fingers brushing against her wrist. “It’s done,” he murmured, his golden eyes watching her carefully. But Lillian wasn’t so sure. Selene’s last words still rang in her ears. "You think this is over? You have no idea what’s coming." A chill that had nothing to do with the night air crept down her spine. Cassian approached, wiping his blade clean. “We should burn the body,” he said. “Make sure there’s nothing left.” Lillian nodded absently, but her mind was elsewhere. Selene had always been a strategist. A woman who never moved unless the board was set in her favor. If she had been so willing to die here tonight… What had she set in motion before her end? Aedric seemed to sense her unease. He turned to Cassian. “Do it. Then return to the castle. We need to reinfo
The forest was no longer silent. The wind carried whispers—no, not whispers. Murmurs of something unnatural.Lillian’s fingers curled into fists. Her pulse hammered against her ribs as cloaked figures emerged from the darkness. One by one, until they formed a half-circle around her, Aedric, and Cassian. Their faces were hidden beneath their hoods, but their presence reeked of something ancient, tainted. Selene stood in the center, her smirk widening. “You always thought you were the hunter, Lillian,” she purred, stepping forward. “But tell me, how does it feel to be the prey?” Aedric let out a deep, guttural growl, his massive Lycan form radiating power. Cassian’s sword gleamed under the moonlight, his stance ready for blood. But Lillian didn’t move. She studied. She calculated.Selene’s confidence wasn’t misplaced—not entirely. This wasn’t a reckless ambush. The cloaked figures weren’t ordinary mercenaries.Then, she felt it. The sharp pull of magic. Dark magic. A shadow-wield
The dungeons of Moonveil Keep were cold, damp, and reeked of desperation. Lord Darius sat chained to the stone wall, his once-pristine garments stained with sweat and dust. His breathing was ragged, fear clinging to him like a second skin. Lillian stood before him, her expression unreadable. Aedric and Cassian flanked her, their presence as imposing as the iron bars that surrounded them. “You have one chance, Darius,” Lillian said, her voice eerily calm. “Tell me who you serve.” Darius let out a bitter laugh. “You think I’ll betray them so easily?” Aedric crouched beside him, tilting his head. “I think you already have.” Darius’s jaw clenched. “I did nothing wrong.” Lillian sighed, stepping closer. “Poisoning a noble at my feast? That was either bold or desperate. And something tells me you weren’t acting alone.” Darius looked away. “You won’t get anything from me.” Cassian smirked. “We don’t have to. You’re already crumbling.” Lillian knelt beside him, her voice lowering to
The night of the feast arrived with an air of anticipation so thick it could be cut with a blade. The grand hall of Moonveil Keep was adorned in flickering candlelight, gold-trimmed banners, and tables overflowing with decadent dishes. The nobles were dressed in their finest silks and jewels, their laughter forced, their smiles edged with suspicion. Lillian stood at the head of the long banquet table, her gown a striking shade of midnight blue, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like the stars. Aedric stood to her right, dressed in a dark tunic with gold accents—regal, imposing, conspicuous. He was the bait, after all. Cassian leaned against a pillar near the entrance, his keen gaze sweeping over the crowd, searching for any sign of treachery. Somewhere in this room, the traitor lurked, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Lillian raised her goblet, the room falling into hushed silence. “Tonight, we feast not only to celebrate our victory but to look forward—to
The morning sun cast long shadows across the great hall as the council gathered. The tension was palpable, an invisible force pressing down on every noble in attendance. They had all heard the rumors—the Queen had chosen an heir. Lillian sat at the head of the council table, her expression unreadable. Aedric stood just behind her, his presence a silent warning. Cassian was positioned near the door, watching each lord and lady with the sharp gaze of a predator. She let the silence stretch before finally speaking. “Last night, I made a decision that will shape the future of this kingdom.” Whispers rippled through the room. “I have chosen an heir,” she continued, her voice calm but firm. “One who will stand beside me, should anything happen to my rule.” Lady Selene, ever composed, tilted her head. “A bold move, Your Majesty. And when will we be privileged to know who this heir is?” Lillian’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “At the next full moon.” Murmurs spread like wil
The council meeting adjourned, but the weight of treachery lingered in the air like the scent of a storm before it broke. As the lords and ladies filed out, murmuring amongst themselves, Lillian remained seated at the head of the table, her fingers tapping against the wood in thought. Aedric stood beside her, his golden eyes scanning the chamber. "At least one of them knows more than they're saying." "At least one?" Lillian scoffed, shaking her head. "I'd wager half the room has secrets they'd rather die than reveal." Lord Darius lingered near the doorway, his expression unreadable. "The timing of Gavriel’s assassination is no coincidence. His death was meant to send a message—to you, and to every noble who would consider supporting your reign." Lillian exhaled slowly. "Then it's time we send a message of our own." Cassian, standing with arms crossed, furrowed his brows. "You mean retaliation?" Aedric smirked. "She means control. If we strike blindly, we risk making enemie
The journey back to the capital was swift but tense. Lillian rode at the head of her army, flanked by Aedric and Fenros, her mind heavy with Elena’s warning. Someone close to her was plotting treachery, but until she uncovered the snake in her court, she had to tread carefully. The towering walls of Moonveil Keep came into view just as the sun began to set. The city gates groaned open, and the streets were lined with wary citizens, their faces a mix of relief and unease. News of their victory had reached them, but so had whispers of the battles yet to come. As they rode through the winding streets toward the palace, Lillian caught glimpses of nobles in the shadows, watching her return with veiled expressions. Some bowed in respect, others turned away, their loyalties still uncertain. Aedric’s voice was low as he leaned toward her. “They fear you.” Lillian kept her expression neutral. “They should.” The doors of the great hall opened, revealing the grand council awaiting her.
The war tent fell into a charged silence after the agreement was struck. Aedric’s golden eyes burned into Gavriel, his posture tense, but he said nothing—for now. Lillian withdrew her hand, leveling Gavriel with a measured look. “You’ve secured an alliance. But know this—I will not be controlled, nor will I be used.” Gavriel’s smirk remained, but there was something sharper beneath it. “And that is precisely why I chose you.” Aedric exhaled harshly, stepping forward. “Enough.” His voice was a growl, rough from battle and barely contained fury. “We have won today, but the true war has not yet begun. House Durnath was only the first of many who will seek to challenge her claim.” His gaze flicked to Lillian, something unreadable flashing across his face. “We should return to the capital, strengthen our defenses, and prepare for what’s coming next.” Lillian nodded, her mind already moving three steps ahead. “Agreed. Fenros, oversee the wounded and ensure our dead are honored. Aedr
The battlefield was already soaked in blood when the second army crested the hills. Their banners flapped in the wind, deep green and silver—a sigil Lillian did not immediately recognize.Aedric, still in his lycan form, growled low beside her. “This wasn’t part of Durnath’s plan. Someone else wants a piece of this war.” Lillian scanned the approaching force. They were well-disciplined, their cavalry units forming precise lines, archers ready at the flanks. Whoever they were, they were not raiders.“They’re organized,” she muttered. “They’ve been waiting for this moment.”Fenros rode up, blood splattered across his armor. “Do we fall back?” “No.” Lillian straightened. “We stand.” House Durnath’s forces were already faltering, their lines breaking beneath the fury of the lycan warriors. But if this new force joined the battle as enemies, they would be caught between two armies. She had to act now. An Unexpected Alliance? Before the newcomers could fully descend upon the battlefie
The forest was alive with whispers. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and wildflowers as Lillian Thorn knelt among the roots of an ancient oak tree, carefully gathering sprigs of lavender and yarrow. The herbalist, Old Miriam, had warned her never to linger after sunset, but Lillian had lost track of time. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, glancing up at the sky. The full moon hung low, casting an eerie silver glow over the land. As always, a strange warmth spread across her left shoulder where her crescent-shaped birthmark rested. It had been there since birth—always tingling under the moonlight, as if calling to something unseen. Tonight, the feeling was stronger than ever. A branch snapped. Lillian stilled. Her heart pounded as she turned toward the sound. The woods had gone deathly silent—no chirping crickets, no rustling leaves. Just the slow, deliberate crunch of footsteps approaching. She rose to her feet, clutching her basket. "Who’s there...
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