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 MoreThe fires in the palace had been extinguished, the bloodstained halls now eerily silent. The bodies of the Black Fang assassins had been cleared, but the stench of death lingered. The battle was won, yet a heavy tension still clung to the air.Aedric stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, his arms crossed, his jaw clenched. The moon hung high above him, a silent witness to the slaughter. He should have felt victorious. Instead, all he felt was rage.“They dared to touch my home,” he murmured, his voice low, lethal.Behind him, Lillian stepped closer. She had bathed and changed, the golden embroidery of her gown shimmering in the torchlight. But beneath the regal elegance, she was still a warrior. A woman who had fought for her place beside him.“They were trying to send a message,” she said.Aedric turned to her, his silver eyes dark with fury. “Then I will answer it.”Lillian placed a hand on his chest, grounding him. “We need to be careful. This wasn’t just an assassination
Lillian did not hesitate.She sprinted down the palace corridors, her heart hammering, her breath steady. The Black Fang had infiltrated the castle, but they had made a grave mistake—they thought she was defenseless.A group of assassins turned the corner ahead, their cloaks dark as the night, their blades gleaming. They didn’t speak. They attacked.Lillian moved like fire.She ducked the first swing, her instincts sharp, her body knowing what to do before she even thought. She grabbed the wrist of the second attacker, twisting it sharply—a sickening crack echoed through the hall as the blade fell from his grasp.With her other hand, she summoned her magic.A pulse of golden energy shot from her fingertips, sending two assassins slamming into the wall. They collapsed, unmoving.More came.Lillian reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh. Aedric’s dagger.And she fought.Every lesson Cassian had drilled into her, every strategy Aedric had forced her to learn—it all came rushing bac
The night air was cold as Aedric led his warriors into the forbidden lands. The Shadowlands stretched before them—a vast, cursed wilderness, where few dared to tread. The trees were twisted, their branches reaching like skeletal hands. The air itself felt wrong, thick with something unseen. Cassian rode beside Aedric, his golden eyes sharp. “If the Black Fang has truly rebuilt their fortress, they’ve had years to prepare.” Aedric’s grip on the reins tightened. “Then we burn them out.” His wolf snarled inside him, restless. Valcairn had been a distraction—but the true enemy had been lurking in the shadows all along. The Black Fang.They were more than just traitors. They were the remnants of an ancient order, sworn to destroy the Lycan throne. And now, they had Valcairn.Elaria’s horse trotted up beside them. “There’s a blood spell guarding the entrance to the fortress,” she warned. “If we don’t break it first, they’ll know we’re coming. Aedric grinned, sharp and cruel. “Let th
The air inside the throne room was suffocating. Tension coiled tight, like a bowstring ready to snap. The nobles who had been summoned the night before now stood before the throne again, uneasy and wary. They had heard of Valcairn’s disappearance. They knew what this meant. Aedric sat upon the throne, his expression carved from cold, unyielding stone. Cassian stood at his right, hands clasped behind his back, eyes gleaming with predatory sharpness. Lillian stood at Aedric’s left, her own gaze sweeping the gathered lords and ladies, watching for even the smallest sign of weakness. Someone here was guilty. Someone had helped Valcairn. Someone had known. Aedric let the silence stretch before he finally spoke. “Last night, Valcairn was taken from my dungeons.” The words sent a ripple through the gathered nobles. Some flinched. Others stayed too still. Aedric leaned forward, his voice low and sharp. “Which means one of you made it happen.” Silence. Then Lord Athren cleared his t
The Great Hall was in chaos. Nobles whispered frantically, guards tightened their grips on their weapons, and the scent of fear was thick in the air. Lillian’s heart pounded as Valcairn was dragged from the hall, his twisted smile still burned into her mind. His last words echoed like a prophecy. "Do you really think I was the only one?" Cassian stayed close to her side, his golden eyes scanning the nobles. He was looking for anyone too tense, too still, too afraid. Because fear revealed guilt, and right now, someone else in this room was hiding a secret. Aedric finally spoke, his voice cold and commanding. “This gathering is over.” The nobles did not argue. They moved quickly, eager to escape the weight of suspicion that hung over them. The guards escorted them out, but Aedric’s warriors watched every movement, memorizing every face. Lillian turned to Elaria. “What magic was that? That… pulse?” Elaria’s expression was unreadable. “Dark magic. Blood magic.” She exhaled. “Valc
The weight of Aedric’s words settled over the room like a storm cloud. The Royal Court. Lillian clenched her hands at her sides. The nobles had always been treacherous, but the idea that one of them had a hand in breaking the seal—that they had knowingly put the kingdom at risk—was a different kind of treason. Cassian’s golden eyes gleamed with fury. “We need names.” Aedric turned to Elaria. “You said the seal was tampered with before Selene’s death. Did she have accomplices?” Elaria folded her arms, deep in thought. “If she did, they were careful. But there were always whispers of alliances in the shadows. Nobles who resented the Lycan rule. Those who wished to restore the old ways.” Lillian’s throat tightened. “The old ways?” Aedric’s voice was grim. “The age of the Blood Courts.” Silence. Cassian cursed. “You’re saying there are nobles who want to bring back the monsters who once ruled these lands?” Elaria’s face was unreadable. “Not just any nobles. Descendants of the o
The temple shook, dust and debris crumbling from the ceiling as the crack in the altar widened. A deep, guttural growl echoed from within, something ancient and hungry stirring in the darkness. Lillian’s pulse thundered. Cassian yanked her backward, his sword drawn in a flash of silver. “We need to move. Now.” Elaria stood frozen, her silver eyes locked on the crack. “This shouldn’t be happening. The seal—” A howling scream erupted from the altar. Not a sound of pain—a call. The torches lining the chamber snuffed out at once. For a single breath, there was only darkness. Then, they came. Shadowed figures slithered from the fissure, their forms shifting like living smoke. Their eyes burned red, their bodies twisting unnaturally as they crawled toward them. Lillian’s breath caught. They weren’t just monsters. They were specters of the damned. Cassian shoved her behind him as one lunged forward, its clawed hand swiping through the air—passing right through his blade as if it
The journey to the Temple of the Moon was swift but tense. Cassian rode beside Lillian, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened treetops, while six heavily armed Lycans flanked them.The deeper they traveled into the sacred lands, the more uneasy Lillian felt.The temple was ancient—older than the Lycan kingdom itself—and built upon the ruins of something even more mysterious. The air hummed with old magic, the kind that made her skin prickle. As they approached, the towering stone entrance loomed before them. Two priestesses in silver robes waited at the gate, their faces shadowed beneath their hoods. Lillian dismounted and stepped forward. “I need to see the High Priestess.” One of the robed figures lifted her head. Bright silver eyes met hers. “She’s been expecting you.” Inside the TempleThe halls of the temple were lined with flickering torches, their flames unnaturally still. The scent of burning incense filled the air, mingling with something darker—old blood. Lillian and C
Lillian 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 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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