The Wicked Werewolf Prince

AG

out their tasks. Steam swirls in the opulent chamber, the scent of chamomile lingering in th

cation concocted by my uncle's twisted mind, fueled by his hatred and fear. The king seeks to undermine me, to strip away any sense of power or influe

stands guard outside the chamber

er my body with linen. Alistair makes his way toward me befo

in his eyes. It

to dress me up for court follow suit, however, they ha

g that it's safe to talk now. "I've found the witch for you, Yo

g out to grab my clothes that the servants have set

gaze. "Whenever Yo

Alis

ighness." He bows and that's when I notice the gash on his exposed neck once again—a b

rd the question before he l

ery much

a flicker of disappoint

witch trails behind him, her scrutinous gaze hovering all over my quarters. When her unblinking eyes finally settle on me,

a wide grin. "I'm Morgana," she says, curtsying as she raises the back of her hand for me to kiss. I chuckle at the audacity. But the nature of witches is kn

th, seductive tone, pressing a ling

rected on the tapestry in front of him, his ears are glue

ught you here for a rathe

desire? Strength? Courage? Do you want me to end a life? Oh, perhaps... create one? Well, what about—no, I can't say it... You'

ng full well the effect it has on those around me. "None of that. I seek your enchantment, Morgana, to transf

scanty light in the quarters. "How intriguing. And may I ask what

closing the gap betw

t dancing within them. "A game of manipulation and revela

er along her cheek, relishing in th

wls in warning. I c

uriosity and a hint of desire. It's as if she's caught in a

wers and ancient magic, swirls around me, intoxicating my senses. I trace my thumb over her

s she responds, her voice a velvet whisper, "Prince M

charged with intent. "You possess a rare beauty and power, dear witch. Your presence alo

"Oh, Prince Magnus, it seems you have quite the silver tongue. But be wa

ayful smile, I respond, "Consider me an open boo

onates deep within me. "Very well, Prince Magnus. I accept your

, sending shivers down my spine. It's the effect of a char

hand resting lightly on her waist. "Then let us revel in the thrill of unraveling the

g like captured starlight. I hand her a glass, our fingers brushing, and raise

, a smile playing on her lips. "T

the rich wine slid

e as I guide her toward the plush canopy bed, adorned with sil

. Our tongues intertwine, engaged in a dance as old as time. The witch responds with e

designed to elicit waves of ecstasy. My hands glide along the curves of her body, knowing

of our encounter draw near, my touch becomes ten

e court—which is a lot more than my uncle ever does—however, I hear t

alliances with independent territories. That marrying their Lunar Crest’s beta's daughter would be beneficial to Caelondor. I don't ask them how tha

supported even by my close allies. They tell me it’s beneficial to my own cause—that having one of the strongest packs on the continent by my side will aid me in the

il. I see Morgana standing by the large mirror. Its ruby-clad border now sprouts wildflowers, someth

gone. You’re quite warm,” Morgana says, slithering towards me. Her s

I must maintain the balance between work

th her scarlet gaze fixated on my face.

failing to keep the sense of urgency out of my voice. Ma

ation cross her eyes, but she does not as

l upon me. For a moment I feel Creed howling inside of me as an invisible hand grips my heart. My

eins, altering my appearance, and reshap

he length of my left arm shortens, ending

n, you will not feel any of the changes," Mo

f staring back. The once handsome prince is now marred by scar

o I re

of her laughter echoing in the r

face flashes in my mind. "Then I suppose I s

along my chest. "Kiss the woman you are marrying, and