ASTRID

ASTRID

ivana jameson · Completed · 279.0k Words

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Introduction

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jeremiah said, his voice a low growl. “Not when you smell like that.”

“Like what?” I whispered, stepping closer until I could feel the heat rolling off him.

He turned slowly, eyes dark, locked on mine — then lower, to the dip of my dress, to the bare line of skin he’d once kissed like a vow. “Like temptation.”

My breath caught as he closed the space between us.

“You think I don’t dream of you?” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. “Of touching you? Tasting you? Every night I remember what you sound like when you beg.”

My knees weakened.

“Then why do you push me away?” I breathed.

He leaned in, his mouth barely grazing the shell of my ear. “Because if I take you again, Astrid, I won’t stop.”

I turned my face, just enough for our lips to nearly touch. “Then don’t.”

Then he stepped back, eyes burning.

“Not yet,” he said roughly. “But soon, little wolf. When I take you, it won’t be gentle. It’ll be war.”


Astrid was never meant to be ordinary. She stands as the heir to her father's throne. Yet, her path to power is fraught with danger, for many despise her existence and refuse to accept a female as their future ruler.

The complexities of Astrid's life deepen when she discovers her destined mate, Alpha Jeremiah. He is cold, ruthless, and unapologetically cocky, with a profound distaste for her kind. Jeremiah marks her, not out of love, but because he envisions her as the key to seizing the mighty Lycan King's territory and pack, a bid for ultimate power.

Love and betrayal intertwine as Astrid navigates a treacherous path, torn between her heart's desires and the demands of her destiny.

Chapter 1

I sat in the library, engrossed in the words that danced across the pages of the book in my hands. Each sentence wove a magical tapestry, and I lost myself in the worlds created by ink and imagination. The scent of ancient paper filled the air, a comforting embrace that welcomed me home.

"Astrid," came the familiar voice of my mother, Lucy, a note of irritation lacing her tone. "How many times must I tell you to put down those books and start taking your training seriously?"

I sighed, my eyes never leaving the page. "Mother, you know I love reading. Besides, being a princess is not something I asked for."

Lucy's voice grew sharper. "You are a princess, Astrid, and a hybrid one at that. Soon, you'll need to defend yourself and your father's pack. This is not a choice; it's your duty."

I mentally blocked out her usual lecture, the words washing over me like a gentle stream, their impact diminished by repetition. "Yes, yes, duty, responsibility, blah, blah," I muttered under my breath.

Lucy must have heard me because, in one swift motion, she snatched the book from my hands. My irritation flared, and I shot her a glare. She really didn't get it , I hated being a princess and a hybrid to make matters worse. I felt like a damn prisoner and it was just so maddening but my mother made it a daily routine to remind me just how miserable my life was.

"Young lady, this is not a game," she scolded, her eyes stern and unwavering. "You are turning eighteen, and your wolf is maturing. The time for childish distractions is over."

I bit back the urge to retort with sarcasm. Lucy, as a human, couldn't possibly understand the depth of my connection to these books. She couldn't fathom the solace I found within their pages, the escape they provided from the weight of my responsibilities.

Instead, I took a deep breath, feeling the turbulent emotions swirling within me. I loved my mother, and I would never intentionally hurt her. My hybrid nature meant that I possessed the physical strength to overpower her, but that wasn't the kind of daughter I wanted to be obviously plus she would definitely whack me with that book.

With measured calm, I replied, "Fine, Mother. I'll go for my training." My tone was clipped, my annoyance thinly veiled. It was funny how she could push my buttons like no one else, despite her genuine concern.

Lucy's expression softened, her features reflecting a mix of relief and maternal pride. "Astrid It's important that you embrace your heritage and the responsibilities that come with it."

I nodded, though my heart still longed for the world of books and the comfort of solitude. Duty called, and I couldn't escape it any longer. As I rose from my chair, I couldn't help but mutter under my breath, "But why does it have to be so dull?"

Lucy chuckled softly, her hand resting on my shoulder. "Because, my dear, sometimes the greatest adventures lie in the most unexpected places."

With that, I left the library, my mind already racing ahead to the training grounds where my future awaited, a path I had no choice but to walk, even if it meant leaving behind the worlds I loved.


I stood before my full-length mirror, encased in the unique attire befitting a hybrid princess. My outfit was an exquisite blend of grace and strength, carefully chosen to complement my pale complexion, silver hair, and unique eyes. My father, Alexander, had once said it matched the moon's touch upon me, but I couldn't help feeling like an outsider in these royal combat garments.

My dress, as white as freshly fallen snow, flowed around me with an ethereal grace. The fabric seemed to shimmer, catching the light in a way that almost made it glow. Delicate silver embroidery traced patterns along the hem and bodice, glistening like moonbeams on water.

Underneath the flowing dress, I wore fitted white pants designed for combat. They offered both freedom of movement and strength, hinting at the warrior within me. My long hair, the color of moonlight, cascaded down my back in loose waves, contrasting beautifully with the white attire.

My skin, as pale as the moon itself, seemed almost translucent against the white garments. But it was my eyes that drew the most attention. They were a mesmerizing shade of iridescent silver, like liquid mercury catching the light. I definitely got those from my father it was a testament of our hybrid lycan nature.

Heading to the training grounds, I joined my mentor and my fathers trusted beta, Lewis. I'd affectionately called him "uncle" since I was a child. Our training sessions were a beautiful blend of grace and power, showcasing the speed and agility that came with our werewolf heritage.

We moved in a blur, a testament to our werewolf abilities. My hybrid nature allowed me to harness both human and Lycan traits, making me faster and stronger with each passing day. Lewis pushed me to my limits, and I welcomed the challenge. Today he was testing my speed which made this training quite easy for me I loved how fast I was . I also loved running in the forest, that's a secret If my father ever found out he would lose his shit and ground me forever-literally.

Our sparring was a silent conversation, an unspoken understanding between mentor and student. Dodges, parries, and counterattacks flowed seamlessly, a dance of skill and trust. We communicated through action rather than words.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows, I felt a swell of pride. Lewis, his grizzled features breaking into a pleased smile, nodded in approval. In those moments, we were not just princess and beta; we were warriors, bound by destiny and an unbreakable connection. "You are getting better and better little wolf" he said with a wink

I smiled "soon I will be able to tackle you really quick, you should be scared uncle" I folded my arms. I couldn't wait for that day , then maybe my mother would stop forcing to these things.

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