Evelyn

My mind goes blank. Then my mother’s face flashes in my mind.

Survive, she begged, her words echoing in my skull.

I have to do something.

Maybe I can claim some incurable illness that will make the lycan king recoil at the sight of me. Maybe I can faint or make a scene before we reach him. Break a small, non-fatal rule on purpose.

Anything to mark me unsuitable for the sacrifice. Anything but this.

I must be visibly hesitating because one of the more ambitious women steps forward in a beautiful forest green dress. “I would be more than happy to volunteer if she’d like a night to gather her bearings at the palace.”

“Yes!” another well-dressed woman exclaims, this one in a bright blue dress that brings out her eyes. “Evelyn does look a little peaked. I’d be more than happy to take her place tonight.”

All eyes turn to me. And I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“By all means,” I agree, immediately offering up my spot, “be my guest.”

I look to the Beta, not sure if trading places like this is even allowed with whatever system they have in place. But before he can say anything, the woman in the green dress turns to the other volunteer and says, “How very thoughtful of you to have offered yourself only after I did.”

The woman in the blue dress retorts, “I was giving someone else an opportunity to speak instead of jumping down the Beta’s throat.”

“Brown-noser!”

“Fraud!”

“Ladies!” The Beta yells to get their attention. I can’t believe they are actually fighting to meet the lycan king instead of fearing what will surely be their death. The likelihood that any of us could be his true Luna is superbly low, especially when considering that lycans are immortal.

His true Luna probably hasn’t even been more yet.

The Beta sighs in frustration. “I really don’t care.” He reaches for the nearest woman, the one in the blue dress, and tugs her along with Marcella and Sarah out of the dormitory to their doom.

Alexander

I wait for the Beta to return with a new batch of eligible women.

I remember the war even though it was centuries ago. I was born centuries ago, too.

My fated mate died in that war, and I haven’t had another Luna since.

My wolf gradually slipped out of control without the calming presence of a mate. Each time my wolf loses control, he goes on a killing spree to avenge the death of our fated mate.

I hate the slaughter. But I have absolutely no control over my wolf’s impulsive outbursts.

I’m honestly lucky I’m the lycan king. Another lycan might have been put down after losing their grip on reality, but me? It makes me more of a threat, more feared, more powerful.

I know the only way for my wolf to regain its sanity is to find another Luna. Despite searching for centuries now, I’ve found nothing.

So I spend year after year being brought unmated werewolves and lycans from across the lands, hoping that my wolf will recognize one of them, will find peace with one of them.

I groan as the approaching women’s noisy thoughts grow louder the closer they get, pushing my wolf to the brink of losing control. It has helped me immensely in ruling and conquering to be able to hear the thoughts of lower-ranking werewolves, but it only makes my wolf more agitated.

Three female werewolves arrive. After seeing so many, they all seem like walking corpses. That’s what they’ll all eventually become.

Either by my hand or the hand of time since werewolves are not immortal like me.

My wolf roils within me, the smell of these women unpleasant to him. Their thoughts don’t do them any favors either, the best option the one in the plain, brown dress who looks like she’s about to vomit up the same color. Her heart beats so quickly, her eyes flicking about the room nervously, her panicked thoughts certain she’s about to die.

My wolf likes the idea of her death. But despite the manipulative, selfish thoughts of the other two women, I don’t want to kill them. I saw enough blood shed in that one war to last me an eternity.

Yet my wolf plagues us with more death at every turn.

I look each of the three women directly in the eyes, unsurprised when I feel no mate bond snapping our eye contact into focus. Sometimes I fear that it’s been so long since I felt a mate bond that I won’t recognize it when I see it. Despite my memory blurred by time though, the one thing I do remember about the mate bond is that it was unavoidable and inescapable.

“Leave,” I order the three women. “Before my wolf kills you all.”

A woman in a bright, blue dress steps forward boldly. “Your Highness, I’m a special healer. If you would allow me the honor of staying the night with you, I assure you that I will calm your wolf.”

My wolf curls his lip in disapproval. Her thoughts betray her true, ulterior intentions and her lies.

She is just an ordinary werewolf like all the others. Most of them are scared shitless to meet me, and rightly so. But every now and again these ambitious ones worm their way out of the woodwork, purporting to be more than they are, promising me anything they think will win my favor.

They disgust me. They infuriate my wolf. They…

I loose a shaky breath as my wolf rages within me.

None of these women are my true Luna, so I turn to my Beta.

“Expel them from the palace,” I command before I completely lose control.

The Beta, recognizing the telltale signs of my unstable wolf fighting to rear his ugly head, ushers the women out urgently, disappearing behind a closed door and taking their unrelenting thoughts with them.

I’ve known the signs of losing control for a long while now. The problem is that sometimes I don’t have enough time to isolate myself before I lose consciousness.

I hurry now to a distant corner of the palace to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. I can feel my wolf growing more restless inside me, demanding to be let out, to avenge the love of my life.

I am the most powerful creature in these lands, but the one thing I fear is losing control of my own power.

I lock myself in a room far from anyone else as my wolf’s fit crescendos. I brace myself for the inevitable loss of consciousness, hoping the lock I’ve just engaged will hold against him.

Then suddenly, my wolf falls quiet.

I listen, waiting for the ire and rage I’ve become all too familiar with inside me. But my wolf grows increasingly calm, almost serene. My muscles relax at the sensation, and I realize how long it’s truly been since I felt this sense of peace within my wolf.

Exhaustion washes over me as I realize how long I’ve been fighting this war inside me, but my wolf makes it clear this is not the time to rest. The calmness in him remains, but it adjusts, like it’s refining into something clearer, something more intentional, something with direction.

Then my wolf speaks to me. It doesn’t growl or snarl or snap, it speaks to me calmly yet firmly.

All he says is, “Find her.”

Evelyn

After the Beta takes off with the three women in tow, the other women break off into groups. Some isolate themselves, others burst into tears while others rush to comfort them, and the remaining women who actually want to be here gather together as well.

While they’re all broken off and distracted with gossip, I sneak out of the dormitory.

My mother’s words echo in my mind.

Survive. Find a way to escape the Lycan King. Find a way home to us.

By the grace of the fates, I have found a way to survive the night. I will take advantage of every spare moment searching for a way out of here. Leaving tonight might not be the best option, but at least I’ll gather the information I need for when it is the right time to escape.

Then again, with so many women around here, maybe no one will notice if one of us disappears.

I avoid the guards as I explore the palace hallways, quietly making my way to the more remote parts of the palace. I mark every stairwell and window, every door that leads outside. I memorize different routes to every exit in case my chosen route becomes blocked.

I’m making my way down a long, open hallway when I hear footsteps approaching around the corner. With no stairs to disappear up or down, I slip into a room I previously marked as a library. In my haste, I scrape against the door, closing it against myself before I’m all the way through.

I stifle my own hiss to avoid giving away my location.

The footsteps do not hesitate or alter, passing by my position with no suspicion at all. I’m confident they didn’t notice me, but it was a close enough call that I decide to halt my explorations for the day.

I slip back into the dormitories, startled when the woman in the forest green dress who volunteered in my place corners me. “I’m Rebecca,” she offers by way of greeting.

“Uh, hi, Rebecca.” I debate internally the pros and cons of sharing my name in return before I remember she probably already knows mine from when the Beta called it off his list.

“Where were you just now?” she asks before I have an opportunity to formally introduce myself.

“Out for a walk,” I reply smoothly. I even furrow my brows as if I’m not sure why she would be asking me such an odd question.

Rebecca looks me over once appraisingly. I don’t note any suspicion on her face, though that is now two close calls tonight.

“You really shouldn’t wander around the palace,” she warns. “The three women who were sent to the lycan king earlier were expelled from the palace for angering the king. No one died, but if you anger the royal family, you could get expelled, too.”

I blink, hiding my shock from showing on my face. “Thanks, Rebecca,” I offer casually, then climb into one of the empty bunks to go to sleep.

It’s not long after that the lights are shut off automatically, and the few remaining women milling about find an empty bed for the night, too.

Expelled? I didn’t know expulsion was one of the punishments. I was sure the options were a swift death or a painful one.

I can’t believe how lucky those three women are. They were handed their freedom, just like that! If I had known, I would have gone with them.

Instead, I’m stuck here, trying to find a way to escape without anyone noticing.

I take a deep breath, willing myself not to dwell on past decisions that I can’t do anything about now. All I can do is my best with the information I have at the time.

And with that calming thought, I fall into a dreamless sleep.

Only to be awoken with a start by soldiers early the next morning.

“You’ve been reported for sneaking around the palace in an attempt to escape,” a soldier informs me gruffly while I’m still blinking the sleep out of my eyes.

“Escape? No,” I argue, “I was just on a walk. Stretching my legs.”

As I pull myself into a sitting position, I notice Rebecca behind them, somehow still looking as perfectly as she did yesterday, smirking in satisfaction.

“All the way near the exit to the gardens?” the soldier asks accusatorily as he lifts a piece of torn fabric – that perfectly matches my purple dress. I furrow my brows in confusion, my mind reeling, trying to figure out when—

The library. When I scraped against the door, it must have torn, and I was too distracted by whoever was approaching that I didn’t notice. I check the back of my arm where I had rubbed against the wood, and yes – there’s a missing hole perfectly matching the swatch of fabric in the soldier’s hand.

“The library where we found this is nowhere near these dormitories. Much too far to be merely ‘stretching your legs.’”

The soldier stares me down condescendingly like he has much better things to be doing than catching a lowly sacrifice in her lie.

“Come on,” he says, almost sounding bored. “Per ordinance seventy-four, you are to be whipped twenty times as a deterrent and to set an example for the other women here.”

I look around as they drag me out of the dormitory, ignoring Rebecca’s smug expression, wondering if there’s any way out of this, any way to escape my punishment. But there are three large soldiers, all gripping me tightly as they tug me roughly along to what looks like traditional execution grounds.

My stomach drops, and I realize that twenty lashes is better than losing my life altogether.

I’m shoved to my knees, the sound of a whip cracking on the stone beneath me causing me to flinch. Whoever’s holding the whip behind me chuckles at my reaction.

I hear his sharp intake of breath, the whistle of the whip through the air as he pulls it back for my first lash. I brace myself against the incoming pain, willing myself to be strong and stoic.

But the expected sting never comes.

I dare a glance over my shoulder where the man with the whip trembles and falls to his knees. I think he’s having a fit until he bows his head low, practically shouting, “Your Majesty!”

I whip my head over my other shoulder to find the king approaching me. I’ve never seen him before, but between the reaction of the executioner behind me and the crown perched on the bleach blond hair of the man before me, it must be the king.

Gently, he takes my chin and tilts my head up.

My breath shakes as I take in his handsome features. I’m so overwhelmed by his beauty that I can’t even make out which features set my heart racing.

But his beauty is not enough to distract from my vulnerable position, and I wonder if the king is here to increase my punishment. His blue eyes are impossible to read.

At that moment, my wolf rouses from her deep sleep that she fell into when Lucas rejected us, rushing to tell me, “He is our second chance – our mate.”

Alexander

My wolf found a calming presence.

“The purple dress,” he repeated over and over like a mantra. “The purple dress, the purple dress, the purple dress.”

So I sent a Beta off last night to investigate, to see if there was a woman in the Prospective Luna dormitories in a purple dress.

I’m woken early this morning with the news that there is indeed a woman there in a purple dress – but that she’s being led to the execution grounds for a punishment of twenty lashings.

“Find her,” my wolf implores. “FIND HER.”

I rush to the execution grounds, though I make sure to grab a shirt and my crown. Not all the staff knows what I look like, and the crown ensures they treat me with the appropriate level of respect.

I’m particularly glad that I’m wearing my crown when I arrive at the execution grounds, the new executioner’s gaze flitting to me even as he pulls back the whip. I watch his eyes flick from me to my crown to my eyes as I firmly shake my head.

“Protect her,” my wolf whines, and I approach the woman in the purple dress on her knees as the executioner drops the whip, kneeling to bow to me.

The woman, sensing that something is amiss, peaks over one shoulder then the other until our eyes meet. I dip my fingers gently under her chin, tilting her beautiful face up toward mine. Examining her almond-shaped, hazel eyes.

“What’s your name.” It’s not a question but a demand.

“Evelyn,” she replies evenly, her eyes filled with surprise, not fear like so many others.

I breathe sharply through my nose at the onslaught of thoughts swirling around the execution grounds. People wondering if I’m going to kill the intriguing women in front of me while others wonder if we somehow knew each other before this moment.

I work to ignore them as usual, partially for my own sanity, but nowadays also to keep my wolf from losing control.

Though as I push away everyone’s thoughts, I realize none of them are coming from Evelyn. I focus on her, intentionally trying to hear her thoughts – but I hear nothing at all.

I release her chin, though she keeps her head raised. I really should get out of here before everyone’s thoughts drive my wolf wild.

But when I check in with him, he seems completely unaffected by the cacophony of thoughts. Like Evelyn’s presence really is keeping him calm, just as he knew it would.

“Release her,” I command the executioner. “She will serve as my personal maid.”

“Alright,” Evelyn agrees as if she has any say in the matter.

Her luscious brown hair is pulled over her shoulder in anticipation of her lashings, revealing her long, elegant neck. I pull my gaze away from it just as a voice interrupts my distraction.

“Your Highness.”

I turn as a woman around Evelyn’s age steps forward from the crowd of eager onlookers at the execution grounds. The deep green of her dress emphasizes her porcelain skin, and she bows deeply, intentionally revealing her low neckline.

“Allow me to inform you, Your Majesty,” she continues as she rises out of her bow, “that the woman before you is suspicious. Her punishment is for sneaking around the palace. She may very well be a threat to you.”

She kneels then, casting her gaze downward. “It would be my honor to serve as your personal maid instead.”

But her thoughts reveal her true intentions.

I’ve never heard of a personal maid to the king. Imagine the level of access, of consistent alone time I would have with him. This is surely a fast-track to becoming his Luna.

And if it’s not, I will be close enough to him to turn him against any other female who gets in my way.

I’ve seen so many greedy people like her before, it no longer phases me. It’s not surprising, nor is it an effort to keep my expression neutral.

Because even if people like this no longer surprise me, they sure as hell piss me off. Their lack of morals is utterly disgusting.

“This one,” I point a royal finger at the well-endowed woman with ulterior motives, “will receive thirty lashes, then be expelled.”

I nod once to my beta, indicating that he will carry out my orders. I ignore the shocked gasps and confused stares. I turn from the surrounding thoughts, spinning theories and spiraling through confusion.

And I leave the grounds without another word.

Evelyn

I never expected King Alexander of the Lycans to be my second chance mate. My wolf has been urging me since the moment our eyes locked to recognize our bond.

I can feel every cell in my body, in my wolf’s body, propelling me toward him as if I’m biologically drawn to him.

But that doesn’t change the fact that this king is an unpredictable tyrant feared by everyone. How could I ever be bonded to someone like that?

All I want is to return safely home to my parents. I would rather never have another mate than be tethered to the king of the lycans.

To my surprise, Alexander turns on his heel without another word. Almost as if he didn’t recognize me as his mate.

When Lucas and I made eye contact for the first time, I could feel in myself the truth that he was my mate just as strongly and unquestionably as I could see that same truth resonating within him. We each instantly knew just as we could tell the other knew as well.

I hesitate for a few seconds, surprised that it’s not quite the same the second time around, then I follow the king all the way to his wing of the palace. It’s farther than I ever made it while exploring yesterday.

The majority of the palace makes a big circle around the Royal Gardens. I hadn’t made it farther than those hallways yesterday. At the heart of the gardens, protected on all sides by the rest of the palace, stands the grand and imposing King’s Palace.

I follow him into what I assume are his private chambers, trying to keep up as I take in our luxurious surroundings.

“You will assist with my bath.”

I start at the command but quickly recover for fear of upsetting such a terrifying ruler who could have just as easily had me executed as rescued from my punishment. I make my way toward the door that he nods me toward, entering his grand, opulent bathing chambers.

The bath, which has three steps leading up to it, could fit three people comfortably. I quickly turn on the water, ensuring it’s the ideal temperature. I look through the supplies lined along shelves, adding some soaps and scents.

I even light a few candles to add to the calming ambiance – something that’s surely helpful for someone known to lose control of their temperamental wolf.

Once the bath is ready, I turn to leave, but I’m blocked by Alexander as he enters the bathroom, his crown no longer atop his head. He saunters in, casually stripping off his top then his pants.

Apparently, he’s not wearing anything underneath them.