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The Alpha King‘s Mate

The Alpha King‘s Mate

Author:J

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Introduction
Hidden by magic in a forest, her species and many others destroyed in the war until the Moon Goddess sets her free in a time where only humans and werewolves exist.A new war between the two Kingdoms begins, what if the Alpha King claims she is his mate?A story of war, betrayal, lust, love and magic.
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Prologue

Millenia ago, supernatural creatures existed alongside humans, and reigned over their own kingdoms. Werewolves, witches, sprites, humans, and orcs roamed these myriad dominions.

Humans felt threatened by these creatures, and so, one day, a war erupted. Humans hunted, captured and killed the elemental sprites, pinning their crimes on the orcs, and leaving the bodies of the sprites on orc land.

After this massacre, King Pyrus and Queen Lydia, the rulers of the sprite kingdom, consulted the leaders of all realms. It was agreed that all kingdoms would help defend the sprites from the orcs.

King Asher, the ruler of the human realm, was one of the leaders who agreed to help, convincing the other kingdoms that the orcs needed to be eradicated before they killed everyone, and wrongly rose to power, ruling every land.

Physically the strongest of all species, the orcs, in retaliation for being accused of a crime they did not commit, wiped out half of the kingdoms during the war, before being exterminated themselves. Recovering from the war, every race was at its weakest, for every kingdom had lost a great many in number. It was a long-held human agenda that all humans would opposition themselves against every other supernatural creature. They took advantage of the opportune timing, knowing kingdoms were ebbing at their lowest.

Humans herded witches in droves, before burning them alive on stakes, for all to see. They captured werewolves and locked them up with heavy, chains of silver, before torturing them to death. Elemental sprites were killed with iron weapons.

It didn’t take long for the werewolf kingdom to realise that it was the humans who initially killed the sprites, and not the orcs, who were wrongfully accused. With the orcs’ assumed extinct, and with a population much larger in number than the others, werewolves were the next strongest species.

Being too trusting did not work out well for the sprites or the witches. Unaware the humans were the catalyst of the massacre, they were gathered, and killed. In the end, only humans and werewolves remained.

Werewolf King, Alpha Dominic, and King Asher, agreed to an indefinite truce, the humans knew the werewolves were much stronger in strength, and the werewolves didn't want to witness any more death. They agreed to keep to themselves and avoid each other's territory. The land was surveyed and reallotted to both parties, precisely, and identically halved. A large forest between the two halves became a no-man’s-land, that neither party could lay claim to.

King Asher ruled West Wallow, and Alpha Dominic ruled Moon Crest Valley.

A thousand years later, knowledge of this great war, and the existence of these supernatural creatures dissolved into fairy tales for children. One night the Moon Goddess decided changes were afoot, and in time, the true meaning of fairytale would be uncovered.

The moon shone brighter than ever before, illuminating a tree in the forest. The tree shivered, and its trunk opened, revealing a beautiful little sprite inside, who crawled out, yawning from a lengthy slumber. Her existence went unknown for the next twelve years, and she lived in the forest happily, until she was eighteen.

Queen Lydia: 1000 years ago

Unwelcome, and motive-driven, humans force their way into my kingdom, and then my home, and capture my darling husband, King Pyrus, who is a hydrokinetic sprite, a creature among many, with the ability to manipulate water.

Crouching down on an imperial rug on the ground, in a designated safe-room behind a false wall, I quietly hide with our violet-eyed, eight-month-old-daughter, Princess Maia. This room is connected to an underground tunnel that leads me away from the castle.

Looking up in the direction of the moon and the stars, I know my husband’s life will not end well. In spite of this, I pray to the Moon Goddess that no harm should come to him, and I shed tears for him, our marriage and our beautiful life together, as I quietly flee through the hidden passage toward the forest border. Using all my energy, I run as fast as I can, while holding Maia. Leaves and branches whip my face and tear my dress as I hastily rush past them.

Panic rises in my chest, because I can hear running and shouting, they’re not far behind me, and they’re gradually getting closer. I’m desperate to avoid captivity, after all the horror stories I have heard about what these humans have done to other sprites.

‘Queen Lydia!’ Someone shouts, from behind a tree, not too far from me. I stop in my tracks, witches I do not know, wave at me, motioning for me to go to them.

‘Queen Lydia. Over here! Quickly!’ One yells, her face and body camouflaged by the giant tree she hides behind. I hide behind the tree next to them and they give me an empathetic smile.

‘I’m Lou. This is my sister Prunella. We’re relieved we have found you Queen Lydia. I fear we’re the only witches left. The humans have burned everyone we know on stakes, in the most horrific, barbaric fashion. We only just escaped. I fear it's only a matter of time until we’re captured. The werewolves haven’t had as many casualties as the humans. They’re putting up a real good fight against them; they may even be strong enough to defeat them,’ Lou says, hopefulness in her voice.

Maia coos from inside her swaddle and sucks her thumb.

‘They have killed every sprite. I was told a few have managed to get away. I fear it's only a matter of time until they’re captured again. My dear baby Maia. My princess. They will kill her if they find her,’ I say, falling onto my knees, and crying into Maia’s blanket.

Lou and Prunella look at each other with sympathetic glances, and Lou places her hand on my shoulder.

‘We can save Princess Maia, but we have to be quick. The humans are getting closer, and our power is depleting,’ Lou says.

‘How can you save her? Please tell me,’ I beg her. They share a quick, knowing glance before looking back at me.

‘We have enough power to save her.’ Lou explains.

I don’t want Maia to die at eight-months-old – it isn’t fair and her life has only just begun. Accepting Lou’s offer means I will never see Maia again after this, but if it saves her life and allows her to grow up into a beautiful young woman with elemental gifts, so be it. I kiss her forehead and tell her how much I love her before handing her to Lou.

‘Okay, if it saves her life we must do it,’ I sob.

Lou and Prunella kneel in front of a big, beautiful oak tree, and place Maia in her swaddle, inside an opening in

the tree’s hollow trunk. They hold each other’s bejeweled hands and chant:

Goddess of the moon,

Place this sweet child to

sleep and make the years leap.

When the moon shines bright,

in her time to retake and find her love,

open her eyes and make her wake.

The tree’s bark begins to move, as it swirls magically around Princess Maia in kaleidoscopic strands, creating an egg out of its bark, and encasing her inside it. When it is finished homing her, the tree trunk sutures over, forming a knot in itself, sealing the egg and my daughter inside.

‘What will happen to her?’ I ask, mesmerised by what I have just witnessed.

‘She will grow very slowly in the egg, and when the time comes, long after we have gone, the Moon Goddess will know when it's time for the forest to release her. The forest will raise her and it will be her home. The animals will befriend her, and teach her who she is. She will awake with a good grasp of our language, and basic life skills. She will know her name. She will have the chance

to have a fulfilling life, when all of this is but a fairytale. We have placed many people’s babies in the trees for them so that they may be kept safe.’ Lou explains.

Nodding, I smile at the thought that my daughter and many other innocent children have the chance to have a happy life filled with harmony, peace and acceptance.

‘I see them! Over there!’ A human shouts. We soon realise we are surrounded. Being pyrokinetic, I can create and manipulate fire. My gifts are a blessing, they’ve never let me down before, and they certainly won’t desert me now. A man is about to hurl his axe in my direction, but I’m quick to use my powers, and I cast a flame beam, and hurl it at him, engulfing him in flames. He screams and writhes around on the ground in pain, burning.

Two sword-wielding men run toward me from my left. I jump into the air just in time, as the one who crouches down, steels himself, to swing his sword at me.

His counterpart swings his sword toward my neck, and this I narrowly miss too, as I lean backward and quickly raise my leg to kick him firmly in the chest, away from me. Balls of flames materialise in the palms of my hands, and I throw them at both men, successfully hitting one, and missing the other.

I’m suddenly gasping for breath as an iron chain whips itself around my throat, choking me. Struggling to stand, I resort to kneeling, and fight the man behind me.

The man who evaded my flame ball stomps toward me

and yanks my head up by my hair.

I feel the deep sting of a sharp knife impaling my heart, and the warmth of my blood trickling from my chest and down the fabric of my dress. I collapse on the ground, knowing I’m dying; I lay there unable to move, becoming weaker.

Lou and Prunella, who have been captured and tied up against stakes, anticipate their imminent deaths, as one of the men approaches them with a fire torch and sets them alight. I can't watch, so I close my eyes and try to block out their screams. An eerie silence washes over us all, as the men walk away, triumphant and laughing.

Loud growls pierce the quiet night air, when hefty silhouettes bolt toward the men and quickly devour them, ripping their heads off. The wolves shift into human form and run toward me.

‘We’re too late,’ one of the men says.

I use what energy I have left to make the tree that my precious baby is in, my last living memory.

‘Live well, my child.’ I whisper.