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48. The Wolf's Guidance
Last Updated:
2024-06-01 21:01:40
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[MAGNUS]It is close to midnight, and the air is thick with tension. Alistair and I navigate the labyrinthine hallways of the palace, each step measured, each breath controlled. The human soldiers, assigned to guard these very halls, lie in a careless slumber, their soft snores a dangerous symphony we dare not disturb. The dim glow of torches casts flickering shadows that dance on the cold stone walls, and Elara, her form shrouded in a dark cloak, follows silently, her footsteps almost ghostly.We reach the stables, the scent of hay and horses mingling with the cool night air. I pause, throwing a questioning glance at Elara. She has her eyes on me, her fingers pulling her cloak tighter around her slender frame. She’s not turning back. I can see it in the set of her jaw, the steel in her eyes.“Ready?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper but carrying the weight of the world.She nods firmly. “Ready,” she responds, her voice a soft murmur. Her hand lowers to her hip, where a dagger gleams in
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[ELARA]Daphne Elspeth, princess of Wyvern, embodies elegance and flawless beauty. Her presence is radiant, turning heads with every step she takes. Even King Eldric seems unduly captivated by her, ostensibly for her assistance in dismantling the Elspeth dynasty.It baffles me how someone so innocent in appearance could facilitate such devastation. Since her arrival at the palace earlier today, whispers have swirled through the corridors. Some claim she poisoned her own brothers and uncles. Others suggest she slit her brother’s throat, the King of Wyvern, while he slept in his tent.Regardless of the truth, her actions have been effective. She stands as the sole survivor of the Elspeth lineage, the dynasty that ruled Wyvern for centuries. Now, she is their future. But what value does she hold for Eldric?Magnus sits sternly beside me, barely touching his food. His voice has grown hoarse again, and I can see his gaze fixed on Daphne. He is undoubtedly pondering the same questions as I,
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Last Updated : 2024-06-15Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 52. The Unwanted Marriage Proposal
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[ELARA]Magnus will never let Ruelle marry Alpha Zander. He’d do anything in his power to stop it, even if the match is approved by the king. He will not let Eldric undermine him this way, not by hurting his little sister. He couldn’t.Once upon a time, I would’ve approved the match myself. I respected Zander as the alpha of my pack—not just because I had to, but because I believed he was a good man. But when I learned of his deception, all that respect turned to hatred. He knew of the connection between Alec and me and yet, he forced me to marry Magnus. He played Alina's game to fool me. And then he commanded Alec to become my personal guard, knowing it would rip his heart to shreds.And the way he held Alina’s hand and whispered in her ear, causing her to tremble, I have no doubt that Zander is merely another pawn in Eldric’s game to hurt Magnus.I know how important it is to find Magnus and tell him immediately about this, but I can neither find him amidst this crowd nor Ruelle and
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[ELARA]Valen moves easily, peeling away the layers of his clothing until he is left in little more than a linen shirt, loose at the collar, and dark trousers that sit low on his hips. The candlelight casts long shadows over the ridges of his body, tracing over sharp angles and defined muscle, a reminder of what he is—what he can do—something I only had a glimpse of minutes ago. I watch, trying not to. Trying not to compare. And yet, I cannot stop myself from thinking of another man in another bed.Back in Caelondor, when Magnus cared, our chambers had been connected by a hidden passageway. I would slip through in the dead of night, and he would let me in without a word. He would wait for me to come. It was the place where I felt most safe. I would curl into the warmth of him, listening to his steady breaths. In those moments, I could almost pretend that our marriage was more than duty.I remember the way he would shed his royal armor piece by piece, leaving himself bare in ways he n
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 109. The Taste of Restraint
[ELARA]On any other night, I would have been cautious, wary of the vampire’s seductive pull, the way he ensnares his prey, just as mentioned in the passage. But tonight, the Burn eclipses reason, and every brush of Valen’s touch sets me alight, leaving me aching, craving.And he looks prepared to give me all I demand and more. Valen doesn’t need further assurance. His lips drag slowly from the curve of my shoulder, up my neck, to finally halt at my earlobe, nibbling it gently. My eyes roll to the back of my head as the sensation consumes me completely. I’m gasping, my breath shaky as I struggle to find something to do with my own hands, while his left arm snakes around the front of my waist, pressing my back against his hard body. The sound of his breath in my ear is maddening. It’s fast, irregular. A lot more intense than what breathing should sound like. He pauses from my ear, returning to press kisses to my shoulder only to push the sleeve of my shift down my arm with his teeth.
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 108. Unravel Me
[ELARA]I tug at the loose pearl string around my neck, playing with a single pearl absentmindedly between my fingers as Lady Brook talks. She’s lounging on the chaise, feasting on a painted bowl of black grapes. I think she might be speaking about tomorrow’s gathering, or of the newest fashion in Qaiven, or of the honey wine gifted by Lord Kilmartin. Her words don’t reach me because I already have a lot on my mind. A longing sigh leaves my lip as I adjust the soft feather pillow under my head and roll over on the bed. My mother’s bright eyes stare back at me from the portrait. They’re so green, so beautiful. Her smile is gentle, as if telling me that everything will be alright. And that I will feel happy again. Magnus only saw the portrait once, maybe only for a couple of seconds, and yet he was able to replicate it so well. In fact, he has done more justice to her features than the original painter from my pack. Now it is framed and hung on the painted stone wall in my chamber. I
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 107. The Fiend and the Exiled
[ELARA]The vampire arrives at dusk. And I’m the one sent down to the courtyard to welcome him. Yes, that’s right. A few hours ago, Alistair came to me and informed me that it would be my duty to do that. When I asked if Magnus would be present too, he just shrugged—something I’ve never seen him do. Another meeting with a lord then, one of scheming and treachery. Or maybe he's just too afraid to get close. He doesn't trust himself—his control. Creed always wins, always takes over. That's the kind of wolf he is—arrogant, dominant, deadly. And Lila? She's a temptress, built to break him apart piece by piece, unraveling him until he's raw. She'll make sure Creed drives Magnus to the edge of his mind, until the Burn is unbearable. If we so much as brush against each other... it'll end in fucking disaster. The kind where sweat slicks bare skin, bodies tangled, mouths bruising—hot, messy, inevitable.And my skin itches to be touched. I can barely hold myself back from caressing my arms. T
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 106. A Throne, A Flame, and A Hunter
[ELARA]Thornhall has become a theater, and Magnus its star performer. To the lords who visit every month for his feasts, he’s the epitome of charm—a prince who smiles easily, dances with grace, and entertains his guests with music and laughter. It’s a clever mask, one I can’t decide if he wears for them or for himself.But when the wine runs dry, and the music fades to nothing, the whispers creep in again. War brews in Caelondor, the unrest growing louder with every passing week. The King’s cruelty has spilled past the castle walls, stoking rebellion among both peasants and nobles. And now, with Magnus in exile, his name has become a rallying cry.He must have been named heir. What else could ignite this fire? The King has no other children. The throne will fall to Magnus, whether he wants it or not.These thoughts circle endlessly, the rumors tightening around us like a noose. And though Magnus has yet to speak a single word of it to me, I know what he’s doing. The quiet conversatio
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 105. The Ghosts of Thornhall
[ELARA]The castle of Thornhall never gets warm or less... quiet. No fire, no laughter, no passing seasons can melt the chill that creeps through its blackened stone halls. Outside, the winds howl and the trees shed their leaves, but inside, it remains an unchanging tomb, where the air feels too still, too aware.The blue roses that snake their way up the jagged walls bloom and wither in cycles, but their petals never touch the ground. They vanish midair, leaving nothing behind but the faint, cloying scent of decay. It’s a scent that lingers, even when there are no roses in sight.But that’s not the most sinister thing about this place. The true menace of Thornhall reveals itself in the night. That’s when the walls begin their unholy symphony, whispering in a language that is neither human nor beast. Serpentine—hisses and sighs that slither through the shadows. Clarice, the steward’s wife, swears they’re the voices of the dead, trapped here since their final, brutal breaths.And ther
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 104. The Beast Within
[RUELLE]The coldness of the water is the first thing I feel, a biting chill that seeps into my bones, numbing every part of me. The weight of it presses down, making it impossible to tell which way is up. My limbs thrash, but the water drags me down, its icy grip tightening around my chest. For a long time, it’s just the water—an endless, suffocating struggle against the darkness.Then, a force stirs within me. Kara. My wolf. Her spirit rises, lending me the strength I desperately need. With her urging, I push through the heavy currents, my lungs burning as I break the surface.Gasping for air, I blink rapidly, my eyes stinging with salt. The world is chaos. Lightning cracks across the sky, illuminating the tumultuous waves, and the ship I was on—once a vessel of hope—tilts precariously, the Cursed Gulf hungrily pulling it under. The air vibrates with thunder, each clap shaking the very water around me.I struggle to stay afloat, coughing and spluttering, trying to make sense of the
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 103. Waves of Fate
[RUELLE]Perhaps Alec somehow tenses the fear in me, because one moment he’s nowhere to be seen, and the next he’s in front of me, shielding me from them. They’re Uncle Eldric’s men. About a dozen or so. And they don’t seem interested in me, or anyone. They’re just taking passage to the next harbour, clambering onto the deck like it is their birthright. The captain of the ship curses under his breath, not pleased to be hosting this uninvited unit who won’t pay a fare, but treat his ship as their own. And yet, my heart refuses to rest. It paces furiously, and I believe it will continue to do so until they’ve gotten off the ship. Alec turns to face me, his tall stature hiding the afternoon sun so it can’t hurt my eyes. “Why do you look so worried?” he asks softly. “They’re just the King’s soldiers. They mean no harm to you.”But even as those words leave his lips, there’s an air of uncertainty to them. He seems to be thinking: why would she be sweating her senses out if they meant no
Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince 102. The Wolf's Instinct
[RUELLE]My lips release a gasp, my cheeks burning as if set on fire. Share a hammock with a stranger? A man? He lets out a laugh then only to cut himself short. His face turns serious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he pauses, looking away. “I was only jesting.”If we were back in the palace, I’d have laughed and joined in the fun. But no—any sense of joy has abandoned me. I’m in survival mode. He may have promised to protect me, but what reason does he have to keep his word? His intentions could sway any minute, even though he may be truly genuine right now. I have never been gullible, but I certainly do have my feet firmly planted on this dusty floor, within his chamber. I’m a fool, I think. Before I know it, I’m brushing past his shoulder, running to the wide wooden plank that serves as a door. But his hand is quicker, gripping my wrist like a vice. I turn to glance at his face, my jaw clenching, partly in fear and partly in anger for stopping me. “Let me go.”He loosens his g
