Aurelia has discovered that she has been mated to Alastair, the Alpha King. But she has secrets, both in her past and about who she really is. Can she resist the power of the mate bond and fulfil her secret plan? Or will she find that neither the mate bond nor her fae kin are what they seem?
Age Rating: 18+
The Fae Wolf by Delta Winters is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.
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1
Aurelia has discovered that she has been mated to Alastair, the Alpha King. But she has secrets, both in her past and about who she really is. Can she resist the power of the mate bond and fulfil her secret plan? Or will she find that neither the mate bond nor her fae kin are what they seem?
Age Rating: 18+
Original Author: Delta Winters
It was a story of old. And a story of new. And everything in between…
Once upon a time, there was a savage king who pillaged villages like he devoured meals.
His control over the land was absolute and corrupting, that no other power could ever hope to defeat him.
The walls of his castle were built so tall that no one could scale them, as could be said for the icy barriers around his heart.
There were those that called him a demon. Others worshiped the ground he walked on as a god. Few knew of his name but did not dare speak it. Most referred to him as the Alpha King.
To suffer a thousand deaths was better than facing his wrath, it was said. And his wrath was easily lit aflame.
Deep within the depths of his castle laid where his enemies bled, purged by the fires of torturous heat and haunted by the souls that remained.
They tugged at their chains day in, day out, hoping to one day finally be free of the eternal punishment. Yet, none received any kind of mercy.
“Mercy…” the graveled whispers of the prisoners begged in unison, almost like a pleading prayer. A prayer to the god. A prayer to their Alpha King whom they now rued defying.
Their king was a man like no other. And hardly a man.
Rumors spread like wildfire in the lands; very few secrets remained. But the truth behind the king – there were many conflicting. And none that told reality.
The mountainous walls of the castle housed a fleet of skilled warrior wolves, brutal and formidable, standing at over a thousand men. And that was merely the royal battalion.
They would raid villages for enjoyment, between their missions and excursions. They would take women at their own pleasure and they ignored the screams of mothers as they plowed into their daughters.
They were monsters.
But nowhere near the monstrosity that the king was said to possess. He did not resort to such things; he was much more apathetic, aloof, disconnected from his people.
He was an entirely different monster altogether.
The legends were known across the lands of the immortal Alpha King.
Some speculated he had been born part werewolf, part undetermined. And that he had been fed a sliver of silver every day, building up an immunity to the one thing that could kill him, as it did most werewolves.
From there, his immortality only strengthened as he was mercilessly trained by the silent monks who resided in the hollow caves of Castriel.
By the time he took the throne, there was no soul who would dare threaten his reign. And it remained that way for centuries.
His throne was cast by the greatest forgers to have lived, with rarest metals in the world supporting the almighty king’s backside.
Other than the throne and a crown to match, there were no further furnishes in the throne room, left plain, daunting, intimidating.
No flowers grew behind the walls of the castle, no nature of any sort blossomed. They wilted and rotted away in the days of old, before the castle had been consumed by strength, power, and darkness.
In the hallowed grounds of Hallerian where the high priests chanted their curses and sang forbidden songs of the blackest nights, a new prophecy had been told.
One with roots that stemmed from the very center of the earth, woven in the fabric of time itself and destined since the beginning of the world.
Adalric Ethalowae, leader of the order, set out with his most trusted to inform the king.
Their loyalties laid wherever the scales tipped toward. An alliance with the Alpha King kept them operating with the greatest freedom.
After a couple of days’ ride, they sought an audience with the king himself, despite their anxiety.
The high priests were among those of the most powerful to have walked the earth, yet this Alpha King had them quaking in fear.
Adalric had met the king on several occasions, but still, the king could gut out a soul with a mere look of his glaring eyes.
The fellowship awaited the king in the magnificent throne room, left to bask in the whispers that flowed through the hall.
The ceiling was domed, capturing the secrets in its spherical grasp. The atmosphere was unsettling.
This, Adalric knew, was a tactic of the Alpha King to establish his dominance, despite not even needing to. The hall alone shook any mortal soul.
“Kneel for your king!” a man bellowed, his voice filling every corner of the room.
In marched a horde of werewolves, surrounding the high priests and creating a barrier between them and the king.
And then the man himself entered. Everything stilled. His dominance spread like the plague in the air, forcing all of them to bow.
There, he sat upon the throne, superior to all those before him.
No creature would meet his eyes. None would dare. They merely angled toward him with their heads hung in submission.
“What brings the high priests of Hallerian to my court?” boomed the king, irritation laced in his tone.
“Your grace,” Adalric began, stepping forward from the herd.
“We come to you with a new prophecy. It has been fated in the stars for as long as this earth has existed and has only been revealed to us now in prayer.”
“Then, tell me. What does this prophecy foretell that is worthy of my time?” He did not appear convinced, which was unsettling to the high priest.
“It is a prophecy of you and your mate, your grace,” the high priest declared. The king’s expression morphed into one of discontent.
A mate would either strengthen him or weaken him. A king of his renown needed neither. He did not need a mate.
“What of this mate you speak of?” he persisted.
“Your majesty, the visions in the smoke were not so clear. But there is a girl—your mate. You and she are destined for a powerful fate. There are two paths.
“One of magnificence for the kingdom. The other of great evil and darkness.”
“What does this mean, high priest?” the king urged, rising from his throne and glaring down at the man before him.
The aggravation was apparent in his eyes, as was the swell of pride to be told of a powerful fate in his future.
However, one with a mate.
Meanwhile, in a niche village tucked away on the outskirts of the kingdom, lived a girl.
Aurelia.
Her hair was golden, as her name suggested. Her eyes glowed blue with curiosity and vibrant youth. Her skin, lightly tanned but as pure as untouched snow.
She was truly ethereal. And along with beauty came her freakish power.
She was not accepted in the village. Not since the incident. An incident that frightened many to their cores and either urged them to curse her out or to avoid the girl altogether.
Time and again, she had wished to be a normal werewolf. To find happiness in a simple life in that small village. But she was not normal. And she could not find her place there.
Her mother had passed on giving birth to her, prompting her sister’s revulsion toward her. It was just the two girls.
One was treated like an omega wench and the other, a proper lady who expected to be waited on hand and foot.
Olympia was not different. She was not an outcast; she was accepted. She had a place in her little life and it suited her comfortably. Aurelia could not understand how they were related in any way.
Aurelia wished to transcend the village, to find her place elsewhere, and yet, she had not. Indeed, nothing at all stopped her. In fact, her power was all she needed.
But it did not only terrify others. It terrified her.
She had not quite understood it when it had first developed at five years of age.
The girl had always possessed it, but it had not shown until it had started to fall out of her control. She attempted to grasp the reins, pulling it back toward her, but it was a power that had its own mind.
Maliciousness surrounded its use. The more she used it, the stronger and more animated it became. Soon, it used her rather than she used it.
Thus, she kept it locked away, its purpose undetermined in her eyes of her own fate.
The temptation was very much there. It could save her from the multitude of harassments she received. It could salvage the dignity she had left from the attacks of her sister.
It could act as her shield in all that threatened her.
And it beckoned to be used. That was the exact reason why she did not.
Evil was an addiction. Giving in was the gateway into the hellish world.
“Where’s that little runt of yours?” a male voice questioned—one Aurelia recognized.
She knew she must not interrupt this interaction. The bond between mates cast everyone else aside. She had not been so wise a few moons ago and had received a beating for it.
Thus she stood, waiting, listening.
“Out fetching water, Lochlan. I wish I could be rid of her,” Olympia answered with a deep sigh.
“Why not be rid of her then?”
“She is my sister. I cannot leave her.”
“You are too dutiful, my beautiful mate,” he replied. Faint kissing sounds echoed out toward Aurelia. Thus, she left for a while longer, exploring the woods.
Alone, she allowed the stream to rush against her feet, soothing the aches of her tiresome labor. Deep inside, she had an unnerved feeling that ate away at her like silver poison.
Perhaps it was the power she stored away, clambering out to seep through her veins. But she knew it was something else, something darker, something much more twisted than she could comprehend.
She had felt this for the entire week; it only grew stronger with every passing day.
A crackle made by a fawn was heard from the other side of the riverbank. A majestic beauty to be sure.
Aurelia’s eyes met with the fawn’s, yet it did not flee as she would have thought. Instead, it inched closer, as if drawn to her.
Her hands itched to touch it, but she snatched them away and dropped her eyes immediately.
She returned home without a second glance back. Trifling with magic or anything of that sort was frowned upon in those parts. And she could most certainly sense a magical source by that stream.
Most likely fae woodland, once their home.
As the moon overpowered the sun and the streets grew quiet, Aurelia rested her head against the hay bales. She deemed it comfortable enough a long time ago, more than the rough concrete floor.
Tomorrow, she would have lived twenty years. Perhaps she would find her mate. She begged the goddess she would not, for it would trap her in that quaint little town for all of eternity.
Therefore, she planned to leave before that could happen. She would have an adventure like no other, searching for the place she hoped was waiting for her.
Sleep overcame her in a flash, the wave of darkness invading and stealing her away.
It was that night that she dreamed of him.
A man so captivating, he must have been some sort of god. A man so domineering, he must have been some sort of demon.
Those smoldering eyes golden with mischief and malice, shimmering in the candlelight of his chamber. A devious smirk lingered on his lips, directed toward her as if he knew she was visiting him.
His shirt was thrown open, revealing his toned chest and defined torso. Black hair to match his roguish features.
Then a step was taken. A single step. And he was right in front of her.
His ruggedly handsome face was so close she could feel his breath. His nose had a slight bump, adding a manly character to his face. Stubble decorated his jaw. His eyebrows pinched together.
“Oh, I’m coming for you, little wolf,” he growled cunningly, his tongue rolling over the fangs he bared.
One more step.
“See you soon.”
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2
Aurelia shot up from her dream state in a cold sweat. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before scrambling to her feet.
Scanning her surroundings, she came to the realization it was merely a dream. She wasn’t truly in that stranger’s chambers. It was just her wild imagination heightening at the excitement of her birthday.
Twenty. She had turned twenty, like many girls in her village. They had all found their mates within the week. Aurelia could never understand how.
She had no doubt that today would be as every other day panned out. Normal. Mundane. Worthless. She was living a miserable existence filled with the most menial tasks.
Habitually, she left the barn to do her chores with ease, though each and every movement dulled her mind. Boredom overtook her misery with each passing second as she swept the floors.
Her calloused hands gripped the broom firmly and, with her best efforts, she tried to get her chores finished fast. A sense of urgency washed over her that she could not explain.
And something beckoned her. Something pulled her as if she were a moth to a flame, regardless of whether she was burned in the process.
It led her right to the stream. A presence of incertitude lurked like a ghost in the night, stalking its next unsuspecting victim.
Aurelia discarded her auburn cloak over a branch beside her and peered over into the water.
What she watched shoot out of the water should have terrified her. Instead, it fascinated her.
Water nymphs. Friends of the fae. Said to be extinct, lost, and forgotten.
Two of them, clad in green moss that clung to them like clothing. Roots skimming their cheeks and a pale tint to their skin. They were… enchanting.
One cocked her head to the side, examining the young wolf with narrowed eyes.
“You should not be here,” the nymph stated darkly. The harshness of her tone was unexpected.
“Yes, she should,” the other argued. “Naida, she was called here.”
“No, you don’t know that. Her kind is not welcome. Werewolves hunted us, Solandis,” Naida snapped back.
“Yet she was brought here, nonetheless.”
“Why was I called here?” Aurelia asked, breaking up the squabble between the two and turning their attention back toward her.
“A mistake,” Naida answered with fury and frustration.
“No. They don’t make mistakes,” Solandis interrupted.
“They?” Aurelia felt as though there was something she was missing that everyone else knew.
And she was right to feel so. Indeed, Solandis and Naida were merely cohabitants of the woodland this far across the kingdom’s border.
Aurelia had not even realized she had followed the stream to that extent. But across the border was a different story.
The king’s rule did not extend to these parts. It was unknown to most in the kingdom what laid beyond. And who exactly reigned over it.
Of course, Solandis and Naida knew. They served the fae in all their infinite glory. They may have been wiped out or chased away from the kingdom, but they still very much prospered.
“Go home, little wolf,” Naida ordered rather patronizingly. Still, Aurelia obeyed, turning on her heel before Solandis could say anything against it.
Something had pulled her there, however, once she left the kingdom, something was reeling her back. She had inescapable ties there that not even fae magic could fight and overpower.
Once she arrived back at home, two sides of herself were at odds. It punished her greatly, as if she deserved the treatment.
It was as though it was tearing her in half, tugging her at both ends until she could stretch no more.
She gazed up at the sky from her perch on the haystack and a shudder ran through her. One of the darkest nights she had seen.
And everyone knew what came with dark nights… dark events would occur.
Paired with the half-moon, it was an omen of sorts. Aurelia was incredibly superstitious, with the knowledge that receiving an omen foreshadowed a haunting fate.
Was this for her? Dark nights were rare, but the darkest, that was a commodity.
All of a sudden, it was no longer just her howls alone filling the night. Growls, rabid snarling, human form screams blurred into a sea of noise only heightened in her ears by her anxiety.
She raced toward the barrage of sound, back to the center of her village. Colossal wolves pounced on the neighbors she had known since birth, pinning them down and ransacking their homes.
She bore witness to girls her age dragged from the safety of their beds and thrown into streets like old rag dolls.
“You!” Aurelia knew she had been spotted, but she fled before she could even see which direction they were chasing her in.
She had never seen them before, but she knew who they were. They were warrior wolves from the royal army. Thus, death would soon follow.
Crawling into a nook that she hoped would hide her, she quaked profusely, effectively warming her in the night’s frosty breeze.
The plod of heavy footsteps got gradually louder with every second until she realized they were directed her way.
She released a gasp as their eyes connected. He was but a mere soldier, no doubt inferior to many others but he appeared a brute with muscles so daunting.
He grasped her upper arm and sneered at her, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Look who we have here. A little runt who thinks she can hide from me—”
She did not give him the opportunity to finish his smug bragging before her hand touched his skin and her eyes locked deeply with his.
Her power tore through barriers of his hard exterior, breaking through his bravado, inflated sense of self that warded off any sensitive emotions.
Then she forced her way into his mind. All in a matter of a second.
“You will let go of me, forget you saw me, and tell your superiors this area is clear.” She then simply… let go. And he let go. And he left.
She could not hold herself back from using her powers, the powers she swore she would lock away. Tapping into those evil roots, she did so at her own peril.
Carefully, she peered over the wall of her hiding place to observe the brutality before her. In the dead of night, she squinted to search for an escape. She would wait it out if she could.
“Fucking wolves not doing their jobs,” a voice growled from behind her.
A sharp powerful force barreled into her head and her sight rapidly blurred into darkness.
Groggy and dazed, her eyelids began to lift again, welcoming light with disdain. She moved to rub her face but found her hands bound with layers of rope.
Then, her eyes connected with several others in front and around her, young women from the village, all her age or close. Including Olympia, her sister, bound as they all were. And traveling.
The large wagon sped over many an obstruction in the road, on a journey to the castle, Aurelia suspected.
The tales of the Alpha King did not fail to reach those in the outlying villages of his kingdom. They had all heard of his immense power, dominance, and brutality. And immortality.
Why were they being taken there? What was the purpose of this?
She attempted to speak but she soon felt the gag as she came around to her senses. Whimpers of frail young women with bruises littering their bodies filled the wagon.
Peeking through a small crack in the wood of the wagon, she noticed an identical one behind, most likely filled with more women.
The wagon came to a grinding halt and the women were dragged off roughly, each with their own henchman warrior wolf. Aurelia was jolted out last by a grip so tight she was sure it would leave fingertip bruises.
She shot a glare at the wolf, but he didn’t even catch her eyes—not once, not ever. So she was led into a pen along with the other ladies, awaiting… something.
And with all the powers Aurelia possessed, it did not help her now.
Glimpsing around the barred room they were in, she examined each and every part. Whilst the other ladies were sobbing quietly to themselves, Aurelia searched for an escape.
Or… perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps she had convinced herself she was. All the while, she was simply biding her time until she faced her fate.
She had wanted a way out of that mundane little life she was leading. She desired adventure, craved it.
What was this, if not adventure? What was this if not exciting and different? She wanted to find her place. Perhaps whatever came next was destiny. Even if it was death.
Glancing at the ladies, she knew she should have felt like them. Helpless, afraid, and trying to accept their deadly fate.
But she did not. The women might have sensed that too as they flickered their eyes expectantly at her. These had been the same women who shamed her and cast her out.
The same women who were fearful of her every day of their lives since the incident. Now, they were looking to her to save them. How very twisted.
“You!” a voice boomed, and a woman was dragged away.
Aurelia had not seen Olympia. She had not seen women from the other wagon. She hoped she was still alive, despite the treatment she had received.
One by one, women dropped like flies. Each and every time, their body was dragged across the hall right back across the bars so that they could see the fate that would befall them.
This rattled Aurelia. But why bring them there just to kill them? It made no sense other than another motive.
Her pen had been cleared out until only Aurelia was left. And she had witnessed several girls she had known with their throats slit wide open, so savagely yet swiftly.
Then came her turn. The same wolf who had grabbed her before shoved her along. His expression remained stoic, unchanging as she attempted to use her power. If he would only meet her eyes…
Roughly, she was tossed through wooden doors, falling to her knees, scratching them against the cold hard surface.
The icy wind whistled in the air, but somehow, an irresistible force tugged Aurelia further into the room. Tingles worked their way into her heart, wading through the various exteriors that protected her.
She felt a daze bewilder her and cloud her senses.
“Kneel before your king!” the announcer declared. The fool, couldn’t he see she was already kneeling? However, it did inform her she was in the presence of the king, not that she needed to be told.
Anyone could tell they were in the presence of such a being. His superiority made the air heavy and difficult to breathe. Yet the scent that swarmed the air was undeniably blissful, alluring, enchanting.
“Rise.” His voice sent an electric shock through her system, although it seemed too familiar. She had certainly never met the king before and he had never come close to her village.
Yet that voice… haunted her. Her core uncontrollably leaked at the mere sound of his voice.
She scrambled to her feet with the not so useful help of the warrior wolf who brought her in. Her legs felt as though they were made of ice, stiff and unable to lead her to freedom.
“Come.” So she walked forward obediently, at his beck and call. There could be little fight against an Alpha command. There could be no fight against the Alpha King’s command.
The warrior wolf walked in step with her, his fingers digging into her skin once again. She hissed quietly, rebelling against the urge to scream.
Her eyes could not meet the king’s. She could not even glance at his face for a moment. Keeping her breathing as steady as she could, she calmed down.
Everyone in the giant hall could hear her heartbeat; she did not want to be visibly terrified, too.
She could smell him before she saw him. His scent engulfed her, more so than any other. It buzzed through her, electrifying her with waves of excitement, desire, and serenity all at once.
Then, she looked up. And she could not look away.
Her eyes locked with his piercing gold ones. It was him. How could that be? He was just a dream.
Mate…
She gulped.
The corners of his lips arched upward. His nails grew long.
Then he struck them against a throat.
But not Aurelia’s.
The warrior wolf’s body collapsed with a single thud beside her, blood pooling at her feet.
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