The Chronicles of Lycanthorin

a golden glow over the room. The walls were lined with intricate tapestries depicting the history of the Lycant

her shoulders, her sultry smile aimed squarely at him. "You're quiet tonight, Alpha," she purred, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his sleeve. "Something on your mind?" Valrik forced a smirk, though his jaw tightened. "Just enjoying th

e.* Valrik sighed inwardly. *It's tradition. You know that.* *Tradition,* Draeven scoffed. *A fancy word for torture. I can't stand the smell of all these perfumes. And Celeste-ugh. Get her off you before I vomit.* Valrik's smirk faltered. Celeste's grip on his arm tightened, her nails

alrik snapped inwardly. *You're giving me a headache.* *Mate,* Draeven growled, his voice urgent. *She's near. I can feel her.* Valrik froze, his heart skipping a beat. *What?* *Mate is near,* Draeven repeated, his tone sharp. *But something's wrong. She's... lost. Confused

want mate smelling her on you, you whore.* Valrik's lips twitched in irritation, but he didn't argue. Draeven's urgency was infectious, his instincts screaming a

t casting long shadows across the courtyard. Draeven's restlessness surged, his growl echoing in Valrik's mind. *Shift

omplete, he stood as a massive wolf, his golden eyes glowing like embers. He took off at a sprint, his powerful legs ca

ear and confusion. She looked lost, out of place, like a storm had tossed her onto his shores. The scent of sunflowers grew stronger as he approached, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. But something was wrong. Her wolf-it was dormant. Valrik could sense it, the absence of her inner beast like a hollow echo in his mind. How was that possible? She was his mate, yet her wolf was silent, buried deep within her. *How the fuck did the Moon Goddess pair me with a rogue?* Valrik thought, his frustration bubbling to the surface. *And one