Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King

Chapter 7

Word Count: 659 | Released on: Today at 10:04

a Silver

hack day and night. The pack was waiting, watching. Alaric Stonefang was still visiting, so they

ance for warriors to prove their worth. With a nervous flutter in my stomach, and w

feeling more pronounced than ever under the dozens of h

e trembling slightly. "I wish to apply for t

n explosion of d

e of the elders scoffed from his seat. "T

, smirked. "Seraphina, perhaps the kitchens or the

preparing. "These are my proposed revisions to our patrol routes and defensive formations. They

my hand and tossed them to the floor witho

er voice cold and devoid of any emotion. "Seraphina Silvermoon. Your appli

idn't matter how smart I was, how hard I

et them fall. I turned to leave, to retre

to the hall swung open

every step he took. The laughter died in everyone's throats. He bent down

council. "You rejected her because of her leg?" His

her voice strained. "A wolf who

I saw a fierce, protective fire I had never see

leg was a birth defect. Our pack healer, Caly

ou're a liar! Who do you think y

d the entire room. He knelt before me, on one knee, so that we we

d by all. "I promise you, my mate, Seraphina. I will heal your leg. And I

ound myself nodding, a wild, imp

ounced. "In three days, she will stand before you as whole as any

Chapter End

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Substitute Bride: Marrying The Hidden Lycan King

JANICE KELLEY Fantasy

“I was the crippled joke of the Silver Ridge Pack, while my cousin Elara was the perfect future Luna. When a seemingly weak rogue named Dravon arrived to claim Elara as his fated mate with a bouquet of withered flowers, she publicly humiliated and rejected him. To save the pack's face, I stepped up and accepted his bond, becoming the ultimate laughingstock. Elara tossed his wedding gift-those withered weeds-into a muddy animal trough. Out of quiet defiance, I picked them out of the slop and ate the mud-stained petals. But those weeds turned out to be mythical Blood Moonflowers, priceless treasures that triggered a violent, agonizing healing process in my cursed leg. Seeing my pain, my terrified mother and the arrogant pack healer restrained my mate. "Apply the silver dust salve," the healer declared proudly, ignoring Dravon's desperate warnings. Silver was a death sentence for my dark magic curse. I lay helpless on the cot, watching my own mother eagerly assist the man about to permanently destroy my leg. Why was my family so blind? Why did they always choose to break me? Just as the deadly silver paste was about to touch my skin, a terrifying, god-like pressure suddenly shattered the air in the tent. My "weak" rogue mate's voice echoed directly in my mind. "Close your eyes. Don't be afraid."”