Prophecy Series: Artemis' Prophecy Part 1

Author

Daphne Anders

Reads

229K

Chapters

Author

Daphne Anders

Reads

229K

Chapters

💕 Romance 👱🏽‍♀️ Teenagers 🔺 Love Triangle 🎭 Drama 🐺 Werewolves & Shifters 👩‍❤️‍👨 True Mate 💘 Fated Mates 🧙‍♂️ Paranormal & Fantasy 👑 Royalty & Aristocrats 😊 Low Spice 🔒 Forced Proximity 🧛🏻 Paranormal

The Weight of the Crown

From the Universe of Prophecy: Artemis’s Prophecy Part 1

ANNA

Sunlight poured through the window, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. I stretched my arms above my head, blinking sleepily as I sank deeper into the soft sheets.

I felt the comforting weight of my mates beside me, their presence wrapping around me like a familiar blanket. I was nestled right between Ares and Apollo—my mates, my loves, my entire world.

Luckily, werewolves didn’t age like humans did, so even though we were well into our forties, we still looked pretty much the same as we had eighteen years ago. And honestly, these two still acted like they were in their twenties—especially when it came to their endless appetite for sex.

Ares lay to my right, fast asleep, his strong arm draped protectively over my waist. Even after all these years, he was still the same—strong, steady, and capable of igniting something wild and fierce inside me.

He had always been this way—bold, impulsive, passionate—and I wouldn’t change a single thing about him. He hadn’t changed one bit.

On my left, Apollo’s hand rested gently against my waist, his touch softer but no less possessive. He had always been calmer, more thoughtful, but his intensity matched Ares’s in its own quiet way.

Even now, lying here beside him, I felt his warmth spreading through me, a gentle glow reminding me I was safe in his arms. The morning sun wrapped around us, making the outside world feel distant and unimportant.

In these quiet moments, nothing else mattered—not the responsibilities, not the chaos—just us. Despite all the years and the struggles we had faced, I had never felt more complete or certain about my life.

I glanced between the two men—Ares with his quiet intensity, Apollo with his calm assurance—and I couldn’t help but smile. I was happy—truly, deeply happy.

These were my mates, the ones my soul was bonded to forever. Together, we had created a family of eight children, just as the Moon Goddess prophesied.

Artemis, our firstborn, was the most powerful of them all. His birth alone united two kingdoms, something no one thought possible.

And in just two days, he would officially become king, ruling over one united kingdom. Even though Ares and Apollo were still sleeping soundly, my mind was already wide awake, spinning with thoughts.

Artemis would turn eighteen in two days, and with that birthday came a heavy weight of responsibility. He had spent most of his life preparing for this moment, but now it was finally here—it was real.

The mating ceremony would mark the official start of his reign as the one and only werewolf king. And if the Moon Goddess blessed him, it would also be the day he met his mate.

A memory flashed through my mind, taking me back to my own mating ceremony—the moment I first scented Ares and Apollo. Their scents were distinct, personal, and meant only for me.

Those scents signified our bond, and that bond meant so much more than I ever imagined. It meant change—my entire world flipped upside down when Victor kidnapped me and tried to force me into mating with him.

But the change wasn’t just about the hard times—it was also about the good. It was the change our werewolf community desperately needed.

Artemis was the answer to that need, the change we had all been waiting for. Ever since his birth and the incredible display of his powers, our community had grown stronger, better, and more united.

I carefully slipped out of bed, placing my feet softly on the floor, trying not to wake Ares and Apollo. As I walked quietly down the hallway toward Artemis’s room, the corridors felt strangely empty and silent.

The palace was never quiet—not with eight children running around—but right now, the silence felt almost unnatural. Even though my youngest was already twelve and they had stopped shifting indoors or racing through the halls, I was still not used to this quiet.

All of our children—Artemis, Poseidon, Athena, Zeus, Hera, Morpheus, Aphrodite, and Hermes—were still fast asleep, free from the day’s responsibilities. Artemis was the first child I watched grow, and soon after, almost every year, another child followed, each one gifted in their own unique way.

But Artemis was special—the Moon Goddess had blessed him with multiple gifts, unlike his siblings, who each received only one.

I slipped quietly into his room, tiptoeing softly as I made my way inside and watched him sleep. His cheek rested gently against the fluffy pillow, eyes pressed shut in peaceful slumber.

He looked so calm, so innocent, and my heart squeezed a little. Every mother worried about their child growing up—especially when they had such huge responsibilities waiting for them.

Especially when the weight of an entire kingdom rested on their shoulders. In two days, everything would change for all of us.

I stood beside his bed, gently brushing a strand of dark-brown curls away from his forehead. Artemis stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

I smiled softly at the sight of him. He had been raised for this moment, raised to become a powerful king.

I sat carefully on the edge of his bed, feeling the mattress dip beneath my weight, and whispered softly, “Artemis.”

“Mother?” he mumbled sleepily, stirring awake all at once.

“It’s time to wake up, my son,” I said gently.

Artemis pushed himself up into a sitting position, blinking slowly as his eyes met mine.

“Two days,” I reminded him softly, “until your birthday and the mating ceremony.”

Artemis nodded slowly, pressing his lips together into a thin, serious line. Like any teenager, he had dreaded this moment—sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly—but always dreaded it.

It was a lot of pressure for someone his age, even if he knew it was a responsibility he had to carry.

“The mating ceremony,” I continued gently, “will officially mark your reign as king.

“The pack will look to you for leadership. Your fathers and I will still be your advisors, but you’ll have more freedom to make decisions.

“You need to learn how to rule a kingdom on your own—as a true king. Difficult choices will need to be made, and sometimes you’ll have no one to turn to for answers but yourself.

“We won’t be your crutches anymore, Artemis—we’ve been trying to guide you toward independence.”

Artemis lifted his gaze back up to mine, and I noticed how much he had grown. His shoulders were broader now, his frame stronger, his posture more like a man’s than a boy’s.

But his eyes—those blue-green eyes, a perfect blend of mine and his father’s—still held the raw innocence of youth. I knew, though, that his eyes would grow tougher with time, hardened by life’s experiences.

“I know, Mother,” Artemis replied quietly.

“You’ve prepared for this since the day you were born,” I reminded him gently. “You can bear the weight of the crown. A king is many things—he understands sacrifice, balance, when to fight, and when to show mercy. He knows what’s necessary for every meeting, every decision.”

I knew I wouldn’t always be here to guide him. He would have to make difficult choices alone—without our help.

My other children had their roles to play, too, but none quite like Artemis. He was the heir, the one the Moon Goddess had chosen to lead our dynasty and bring about meaningful change.

Artemis furrowed his brow, looking up at me again. “You act like I’m going off to war and never coming back, Mother.

“I know, I know. I understand my responsibilities. You and my fathers have prepared me for this day for almost seventeen years—I even remember Father reading war books to me at bedtime.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly at the memory. Ares had insisted on it, claiming it would make Artemis stronger—even if only mentally at first.

And he had been right. Artemis had inherited bits and pieces of both Ares’s and Apollo’s personalities, thankfully—a perfect combination of the two.

“I know, but you can’t blame a mother for worrying,” I reminded him gently.

He shook his head, stretching his arms above him and pulling the covers tighter around himself. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Mother, I need to get dressed.”

“You forget I used to change your diapers,” I teased, laughing lightly as I stood up from his bed.

I closed the door softly behind me. “Two days,” I whispered, partly to myself but partly hoping he’d hear me.

Wolf hearing was a magnificent thing—especially in an alpha.