George’s POV "Why didn't you tell me?" I strained my voice, frustration evident in every word."I'm sorry, I thought we'd be done on time and head back home," Lyra whispered, her tone apologetic."We have to find a way to leave," I insisted."It's not that bad, I'm just a bit more sensitive than usual," Lyra assured me, though her words didn't fully assuage my concerns.Determined to depart as soon as possible, I decided we would wait until after my mother's speech, whatever it was she wanted to announce."Hey," a woman approached us, her familiarity indicating she used to work with my father. After exchanging greetings, I introduced Lyra to her."I like your outfit. Is there a chance of meeting your stylist?" she inquired, her interest piqued by Lyra's attire.“I'm the stylist," Lyra responded proudly, her smile radiant."That's impressive. Where's your office? I'd like to have a few outfits styled. My daughter's wedding is coming up, and we could use the help," the woman explained
Lyra’s POV "Father, I implore you, I cannot imagine marrying him," I pleaded earnestly, facing my father who remained resolute in the garden. "Lyra, you will marry him," he replied calmly, yet an underlying severity marked his tone. "He is not my destined mate. I'll recognize my mate when our eyes meet," I retorted with conviction. "Do you believe someone else would be more suitable? Maximus is among the most wealthy and powerful Alphas, not to mention he is handsome”. “I am bestowing upon you a considerable favour," he added, his anger palpable. "A favour? Father, as the Alpha's daughter, I possess beauty, courage, and distinction," I disputed, my voice almost trembling with emotion. "You are to heed my every command unquestioningly!" he declared emphatically. Feeling tears welling up, I turned away, walking back to the house. At twenty years old, my father sought to trade me to this imperious Alpha, and the weight of his decision pressed heavily upon me. "What's troubling y
Lyra’s POV I was aware of the impending pressure to marry Maximus, but the speed of this development caught me off guard. “Mother, what's the meaning behind Maximus's announcement for the next full moon?” I confronted her, interrupting a conversation with a servant. She signalled the servant to leave, and without directly addressing my question, she took a seat at the dining table. “We needed to expedite matters, dear,” she replied, evading eye contact. “And you couldn't have informed me?” I retorted sharply. “Well…” She began to explain, but I cut her off. “Whose decision is this?” I demanded, searching her face for the truth. The silence spoke volumes, and I knew the answer. “It's Maximus, isn't it?” I pressed, not waiting for confirmation before storming away. Arriving at my father's office, anger fueled my every step. I couldn't bring myself to knock I barged in. "Why was I kept in the dark about next week's schedule, Father?" He sat, absorbed in paperwork. "I've convey
Lyra’s POV As I transitioned into my wolf form and darted into the woods, contemplation seized my thoughts. Every onlooker cast a glance filled with shock and disdain, except for my brother, whose expression reflected satisfaction, yearning for nothing but my happiness. My wolf, too, echoed my fear, tearing through the woods with swift urgency, disturbing dry leaves and snapping sticks in the obscurity of the night. She halted before the mountain standing resolute, a forbidden boundary I dared to cross. Resuming control, I shifted back, fixing my gaze on the formidable peak. Moments lingered in contemplation. The heat at home was oppressive, and escaping seemed a tempting choice. What's the worst that could happen? I preferred confronting the unknown beyond the mountain to facing Maximus and my father. Returning to my human form, my wolf skillfully ascended the mountain, and after what felt like an eternity, we emerged on the other side, greeted by dense woods. "Are you sure a
George’s POV I watched her devour the food swiftly. For someone of her stature, her appetite surprised me. Thousands of questions danced in my mind, eager to escape my lips. The tales of werewolves, once dismissed as mere myths, unfolded before my disbelieving eyes. In her, I beheld a beauty so rare, a beauty that transcended mere humanity. Her charm, a potent blend of beauty and a captivating physique, left me momentarily breathless. She caught my gaze, and embarrassment washed over me, prompting me to clear my throat quickly. "I must be quite the chef," I remarked, a swell of pride in my voice. She responded with a cool dismissal. "No, I'm just hungry." A sting of sarcasm laced her words, a trait I found oddly adorable. "Thank you," she murmured. Smiling, I blurted. "I'd gladly cook for you for the rest of my life." However, my attempt at charm was met with a scornful glance. "Hmmph," she exclaimed. She prepared to leave, but I impulsively halted her. "Wait!" "Have you
Lyra’s POV As my wolf neared the cottage, I observed George in a state of panic outside. Taking charge, I shifted. Surprisingly, he hurried towards me and enveloped me in an embrace. “Mate,” resonated my wolf's voice. “But he's human, how is that possible?” I inquired, yet silence met my question, not that her silence was an unfamiliar response. Against all odds, it seemed we were descending into something inexplicable. “You do realize I'm undressed, right?” were the words that escaped my lips. "Oh! I apologize," he muttered, turning away and swiftly taking off his shirt, his gaze avoiding mine. I pondered why he was making such a fuss. We were right in front of the house, and I intended to step inside and grab a dress. Encountering him shirtless again was nearly unbearable. He resembled a perfect Greek god. "Where did you go?" he inquired. "I went for a run with my wolf," I replied nonchalantly. "Lyra, no one can see your wolf. No one must know you're a werewolf," he cau
Lyra’s POV I was taken aback by my father's harsh words, his departure leaving behind a void devoid of remorse. "Don't worry, sister," Damian consoled. "He's just angry. I'm sure he'll come around." "Where's mother?" I managed to ask through the turmoil of emotions. "She must be inside. Let's go to her," Damian suggested in his presence, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. As we entered, my eyes sought out my mother, and I rushed to her, seeking solace in her embrace. However, her response was not as warm as I had hoped. "Sit, Lyra," she said calmly, her voice carrying a weight of disappointment. "Damian, could you give us some space?" she requested. He nodded understandingly and retreated, leaving us alone in her chambers. "I'm so sorry, Mother," I pleaded, my words heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to bring you shame. Please forgive me.” "Hmm," was her only response. "Father said some hurtful words to me. Please, help me plead on my behalf," I pressed on, desperate for
Lra’s POV My journey stretched on longer than before, each step weighed down by the burden of sadness that clung to me like a cloak. When I finally shifted back, I found myself shivering in the cold, the thin dress Damian had included in the bag offering little protection against the biting wind. Despite my exhaustion, sleep eluded me until the early hours of the morning, when sheer weariness finally overcame the ache in my heart. When I awoke, hunger gnawed at me. With trembling hands, I reached into the bag and retrieved some fruits, devouring them hungrily before pressing on. As night fell once more, I found myself alone in the darkness of the woods, the eerie silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The next morning, weary and famished, I finally reached George's doorstep and knocked. He opened the door, my face drawn and distressed. Without a word, he enfolded me in a warm embrace. "You look so pale. Are you okay?" he asked, concern