The Werewolf King Series Book 2
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Elle Chipp
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Rory, a wedding planner, is thrust into a world of werewolves and supernatural intrigue when she takes on a last-minute wedding job at a luxurious estate. As she navigates the complexities of planning a high-profile wedding, she discovers her own dormant werewolf genes and a fated mate in Darius, the werewolf king. Amidst danger, romance, and the awakening of her true nature, Rory must balance her human life with her newfound responsibilities in the supernatural realm.
1: Aryaâs Story
ARYA
The hardest thing Iâve ever had to do is sit here, smiling, pretending my heart isnât shattering into a million pieces. Our families, friends, and packs have gathered to witness the Royal Mating Ceremony of the century. But itâs not mine.
It should have been.
It would have been if the Moon Goddess and fate hadnât decided to turn against me. Instead, the mate I fell for turned out to be a monster.
Actually, he was worse than a monster. He was a rapist, an abuser, a liarâŠand Iâm relieved that heâs finally dead. Sounds harsh, right? But itâs the truth, and I see no point in sugarcoating it.
When he drew his last breath, I realized he wasnât my true mate. The relief that washed over me is indescribable. After all, mates canât harm each other, yet I was the one who pulled the trigger to end his life.
Being the kingâs only living relative made me a prime target for his deception. A witch supplied him with a spell that tricked me into believing he was my mate.
And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.
For weeks, I was smitten. I was blinded by his smiles, his sweet words, and the mate bond we were taught to cherish above all else. I remember how it used to pull at me, and Iâm grateful that itâs just a memory now.
Iâve always been a hopeless romantic. Growing up with parents who were as in love as mates could be, it was hard not to want that for myself. So, when Stella, my wolf, told me he was the one, I didnât hesitate.
Embarrassingly, the only reason our mating ceremony didnât happen was because he attacked my wedding planner the day before, intending to do more than just kill.
At first, I was in denial. My wolf reacted violently. Iâll always regret how we behaved that night. It wasnât until my brother, my protective big brother, spelled it out for me that I finally understood.
How do you move on from something like that? I thought the Moon Goddess had paired me with the worst possible mate, and unless I wanted to lose my soul, he had to live.
I would have had him killed if it were up to me, but my brother vetoed the idea. He cared too much about me, still does, and his concern allowed the bastard to live long enough to escape and find me. To find us.
But itâs over now. I did what I had to do, and heâs no longer around to poison the world.
It just hurts to know how close I was to what I thought was happiness, and now Iâm sitting alone, wondering if Iâll ever meet my true mate. My brother waited twelve years, and honestly, I donât have that kind of patience.
I want to be loved, cherished, seen as more than the spoiled princess doted on by her brother, the king.
But itâs starting to feel like a pipe dream.
***
Iâve lost track of how many glasses of champagne Iâve downed, but itâs not enough. I want more, especially now that the first dance has started, and I canât tear my eyes away from how stunning my friend looks in my brotherâs arms.
She was right to decline my offer to wear my dress. The simple silk gown sheâs wearing suits her better than I could have imagined. Itâs a shame itâll be torn to shreds when she starts to turn.
Her wolf is different from ours. Sheâs what my grandmother used to call a servant of the moon, stronger than even our fiercest warriors.
I used to think her kind was a myth. Who could be stronger than my brother Darius? But when she showed me her wolf, Darcy, last month, I was awestruck by her size and power.
I ran.
Tonight, Iâll be brave. Her wolf will be too overjoyed to care about anything else on her mating day. Itâll be a nice memory to bring up if my brother ever needs to be taken down a peg.
Some of the guests have already started to turn on command. Our kind has more control over our gift and doesnât store as much energy as a result. I almost lost it when one of Roryâs pack members called us the weaker breed. Sheâs lucky I love her like a sister, or her âcousinâ would have lost an eye.
âNo dancing?â I turn to see Helena sitting next to me.
Sheâs the witch who confirmed that my soul wasnât tied to a monster, granting me my freedom. I just wish she had pointed it out sooner.
Sheâs wearing a long emerald gown that hugs her waist and pools at her feet. For a woman nearing sixty, she moves with a grace that belies her age, and her red hair hasnât faded a bit.
âI think my brother and Rory will forgive me.â I force a smile, raise my glass to the happy couple, and drain it.
Helena narrows her eyes at me, reminding me of how my mother used to scold me when I was a pup. It doesnât surprise me when she swats my arm lightly in irritation.
âWhat are you sulking for, child?â She takes a bite from one of the strawberries Iâve left untouched on my dessert plate.
I canât help but laugh, signaling the waiter for another drink. Heâs already made a pretty penny off me tonight, and Iâm far from done.
âYouâre already half in the bag. Donât you have any shame?â she chides again, seeing her first attempt didnât take.
âShame? Iâve got plenty of thatâŠâ I accept the glass from the waiter. âEspecially considering who I almost ended up with.â I nod towards the blissful couple.
Why else would I be hiding out here? The few whoâve spotted me havenât been shy about their whispers and pointed stares. Iâm the butt of the joke, and the worst part is, I agree with them.
âYou know this isnât your fault, right?â Helenaâs voice shifts from irritation to sympathy, and I wish sheâd stuck with the former.
âDoes it matter? Iâm the one who brought him here, Iâm the one who looked the other way. I shouldâve known.â My voice wavers, and I take a quick sip to cover it up.
Helena rubs my back in a comforting gesture, her face a mix of emotions.
âIt seems our debt to your kind is still outstanding,â she murmurs more to herself than to me, but with my heightened hearing, it might as well be a shout.
âWe donât owe you a thing. Your kind put me in this mess to begin with,â I retort, remembering how she told my brother he owed her a favor the last time we met.
âIâm not talking about your brother. Iâm talking about youâŠwe owe you.â She sighs, as if explaining this to a child.
I guess itâs not a bad thing to have in my back pocket. Witches arenât known for their generosity, especially towards non-humans. We usually invite her to these events because sheâs the only witch whoâs ever shown us any kindness, thanks to a favor Darius did for her. She can be quite entertaining when she wants to be.
But what should I ask for? Wealth? Got it. Beauty? Pointless. Immortality? Useless without my other half.
âI thought you were smarter than this.â Helena shakes her head, popping another strawberry into her mouth.
Iâd forgotten about her mind-reading abilities, especially when emotions are running high. The alcohol probably isnât helping either. âSo what should I ask for?â I challenge, matching her tone.
âYour mate. Ask me, and Iâll tell you where he is. But then weâre square.â She holds up a finger, emphasizing the gravity of her offer.
I bite my lip, knowing I should think this over before jumping in.
âHow do I know you wonât lie?â I donât need to mention her kindâs past betrayals. The implication hangs in the air.
âBecause I like you, dear, and I donât take to wolves easily.â She gives me a small, genuine smile. And even if it makes me a fool, I believe her.
âWhere is he?â
