Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
But all of that changes when the wolves come.
These wolf shifters haven’t been in the human kingdom for centuries, but here they are, rounding up all the women.
The Wolf King is desperately searching for his mate.
He’s huge.
Dangerous.
Terrifyingly beautiful.
And out of everyone, King Alaric picks me.
He says I’m his one true fated mate.
That the moon and the gods and fate chose me to be by his side.
With a crown on my head.
This powerful, dominant king wants me to be his queen.
He demands it.
He wants heirs. Lots of them.
Enough princes and princesses to fill his castle.
I should say no.
I should fight him.
But my body says yes.
And my heart is already his.
Because once a Wolf King chooses you…
There is no escape.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
King Alaric
There is no lonelier place than a throne during a mating ceremony. The crown has never felt heavier than it does tonight.
I sigh as I grip the armrests of my throne, watching all of the excited people gathered around for the Lunaris Vinculum, the sacred night of the binding.
I glance up at the full moon, silently cursing it under my breath. It feels merciless tonight as it casts the town square in rays of silver.
Every wolf in the kingdom can feel it. A full moon is an energizing event for a wolf shifter. It electrifies their bones and tingles their skin. It feeds their inner wolves and makes them feel unstoppable.
Normally.
I look inward, searching for my wolf. Still nothing.
This is becoming a problem.
All eyes snap to me as I rise from my throne in the courtyard and clear my throat.
A thousand people drop to their knees and bow their heads.
Complete silence.
“True mates,” I bellow. “Present yourselves.”
Excitement and merriment explode through the courtyard as everyone jumps to their feet, laughing, cheering, and parting the crowd to make way for the couples racing through. The wolves circling the outer edges of the crowd throw back their heads and howl.
I stand at the edge of the raised dais, my hands clasped behind my back, my golden crown digging into my temples as I watch with a lump in my throat.
The couples look so happy as they approach, holding hands, unable to look away from each other’s eyes. The air is thick with anticipation. With heat. With need.
They line up in front of the dais, looking up at me with bright eyes and restless energy.
About three dozen couples tonight. Some young—these are the lucky ones, who will spend their whole adult lives with their fated mate—and some older—these ones having waited years, even decades, for this night.
But they all look ecstatic. The wait is almost over.
In the wolf kingdoms, there is no claiming and no sex until the mark is placed.
It is the oldest law we have.
It’s sacred.
These eager lovers have waited a moon cycle for this. Some have just experienced thirty long nights of aching carnal hunger, which will finally be quenched tonight.
The excitement in their eyes is palpable. They’re buzzing with anticipation.
Sex hangs in the air like smoke. Like something sweet and dangerous and just out of reach. Wolves don’t hide desire well. I can smell it on them. Taste it.
After this ceremony, these fortunate couples will disappear for days.
Weeks, sometimes.
They’ll be locked together in an endless mating marathon.
Friends and family members will leave food and drink outside their door. It’s rare, but some rutting mates have died in the past, never emerging from their den, having starved or died of exhaustion or thirst. That’s how consuming the first mating process is for us wolves.
And that’s what these lucky couples will be experiencing tonight.
I breathe in slowly.
I envy them more than I should.
How many times have I stood here?
How many Lunaris nights have I presided over as king, watching others claim what I may never have?
Too many.
I can command anything into existence. Except that.
“Approach your king,” I bellow.
The first pair steps forward and walks onto the dais.
They kneel before me, heads bowed. They’re a young couple. Barely the age I was when father died, and I took the crown.
I thought my queen would arrive imminently.
Two decades later, and she’s still not here.
The thought makes my heart ache.
Focus. Do your job.
These shifters have waited their whole lives for this moment. I can’t make it about me and my despair.
“Rise,” I say in a deep, commanding voice.
The male’s hands tremble at his sides as he rises to his full height. He barely reaches my chin. I know how large and imposing I am. It helps as a king. It shouldn’t, but it does.
“Face your would-be mate.”
They turn and face each other. The fear evaporates. Love and lust take their place as the two stare at each other with sparkling eyes and silly grins. They hold hands. She tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck as she licks her lips. He lets out a low growl of primal anticipation.
The trust in her eyes is moving. She knows he will never leave her. There’s no doubt that he will be true.
It’s a certainty with mates. It’s a core trait of our species.
It’s our way of life.
I lift my hand, and the courtyard stills.
“Before the moon, the pack, and the crown,” I say, “you stand to bind yourselves.”
I look at the male first.
“Do you claim this woman as your mate,” I ask, “to guard her with your life, to honor her above all others, and to stand by her side for as long as your wolf draws breath?”
“I do,” he says without hesitation.
I turn my gaze to the female.
“Do you accept this man as your mate,” I ask, “to walk beside him in strength and in struggle, to share your lives, your bond, and your fate, and to choose each other for all your days?”