Present day

Aidan touched his right bicep above his designer shirt, as he looked out over New York City from his office on the 94th floor of One World Trade Center. It was a few days before his “mark” showed up, and that always made him extremely irritable. He didn't want to be disturbed, but the knocking on the door was evidence that he rarely got what he wanted.

“Sir, your wife is here,” his secretary announced, poking her head through the half-open door.

“Send her in, please.”

Aidan took a deep breath and turned to meet Myra's gentle, smiling, soft face.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her dryly, and regretted it a few seconds later when he saw her pout. Myra was a very good wife: a quiet, obedient and willing Omega; and as if that wasn't enough, she was General Nader's daughter, so he had excellent ties of loyalty to her family. But after ten years, her submission was driving Aidan out of his mind. “Forgive me. How can I help you?”

Myra seemed to think long and hard before she dared to speak.

“My mating season will be over in three days...” she announced as if she were putting an expiration date on a task, and considering that this was a marriage of convenience, it definitely was.

“I've already given you twelve days, Myra..., but we both know what's going to happen.” Aidan snorted in annoyance and turned his back on her.

According to the new laws, no prince could claim the throne without already having an heir. That was the only reason Aidan had married her; and Myra's only task was to give him an offspring: a successor so that he could finally inherit his father's throne, but not even that she had managed. 

“The queen thinks the answer is in Alaska,” Myra ventured. “She says one of the first priestesses of the new religion lives there...”

“When did you talk to my mother?” Aidan turned around, furious, and his wife turned pale.

“Well... she came to see me about—”

The Alpha's eyes, normally dark, turned bright blue, causing Myra to recoil in fear. No one was as capable among lycans of controlling or releasing his wolf as Aidan Chastiel could.

“Let that be the last time you speak to the queen mother without my permission!” he exclaimed angrily.

“But Aidan...” she tried to defend herself. “Why not? I am your Moon...”

The wolf's bitter laughter was heard deep and guttural throughout the office.

“You're not my Moon, you're not my mate, you're nothing!” he roared. “You are only the princess of the wolves so you can give me an heir, but unless you start giving birth to pups, even that you will soon cease to be!”

Her voice was full of resentment, and Myra seemed to shrink in on herself as she nodded. She was very aware of her role in that marriage, but she could not refuse the queen if she sought her out.

“If you don't want anything else, you can leave.”

There was an awkward silence in which the woman seemed afraid to speak, but before Aidan could completely lose patience, there was another knock at the door.

“Sir, Their Majesties are here,” his secretary announced with an anguished grimace as she pushed the door wide open.

Aidan snorted in annoyance and his mother burst out laughing.

“Wow, what a pleasant sound to greet your parents with!” she exclaimed without becoming angry.

Queen Erea tried not to get angry over trifles; she never lost her temper, because when she did she almost always ended up with blood on her paws. Besides, the inordinate love she felt for her son made her forget even the most horrible of insults.

“Mother, I'd love to make another sound, but your presence is always synonymous with demands!” Aidan replied before turning to the king. “Father,” he bowed his head respectfully.

His father put a hand on his shoulder in greeting and rolled his eyes, because the queen had dragged him out to this visit and he did not like the plan she had in mind.

“I won't take much of your time, son,” his mother assured him, “but as you know Myra's mating season is ending and I want us to visit one of the first priestesses of the new religion.”

The king and his son looked at each other in frustration. In over a decade, Myra had failed to become pregnant, and every year his mother came up with some new idea, a different tonic, a different sorceress.

“Mother... I'm sorry, but this is not a good time for me to travel,” he apologized.

“It won't be far or for too long, a couple of months at the most...”

“I said no. Besides, we both know there won't be cubs this time either!”

“Aidan!” his mother protested, raising her voice, but before continuing she made a stern gesture to Myra and the woman left the room. “Son, this is Myra's last mating period of the year, you have to keep trying. You can't give up hope!”

“And you should stop kidding yourself! I'm cursed, Mother! No Alaskan priestess is going to take that away!” Aidan replied angrily.

There was nothing worse than admitting it out loud, but that was the way it was. Aidan had lived under the curse of Isrion's bloodline since birth, that was why his parents had fought the Sacred War, that was why his siblings had died in battle... Every last member of Isrion's blood had been wiped from the face of the earth, and yet they had failed to take it away.

He, Aidan Chastiel, the second most powerful living Alpha in the world, the heir to the lycan throne, was destined to live out his eternity alone. He would never find his destined mate; the Goddess would never make one for him. And without a mate, he was doomed to live without knowing the most powerful and special connection any wolf could have.

And deep down, Aidan also knew that was the reason he had failed to have an offspring with Myra.

He touched the mark involuntarily, the proof that he was cursed, and that he would die just as alone as he had been born.

Two loud knocks at the door brought him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Brennan Tarik, his Beta and second in command, enter.

All the momentum the lycan had built up disappeared when he saw the king and queen, and he immediately bowed his head in respect.

“Your Majesties, I am very sorry for the interruption, but if it were not of vital importance I would not be here.”

“Speak,” Aidan conceded, oblivious to his parents' frowns of displeasure.

Brennan was barely over three hundred years old, and was the son of no one important, his family name did not have a single tie to the crown, and he was the lycan with the humblest origins among the wolves; that was why the royal couple considered him unfit to be the captain of their son's Guard.

However, Aidan had seen something in him that he had never seen in another wolf: true loyalty. The lycans feared him for his power and respected him for his position as heir to the throne, but Brennan Tarik admired him as a wolf and loved him as a brother, and that was more important to Aidan than any legacy.

“Sire,” Brennan would only refer to him that way in front of the king and queen. “Revolts have broken out in Europe; they're attacking the packs' reserves.”

“How serious is it?” volunteered King Caerbhall.

Brennan looked at Aidan before answering and Aidan nodded for him to continue.

“So far, there have been attacks in Corgarff, Callander, Garvok and Blindburn.”

“Scotland and Northern UK...” his majesty murmured before turning to his son with a determined gesture. “You can go take care of that.”

It was not a question but permission, one that released him from his mother's plans, so Aidan nodded with a smile.

“But Caerbhall...” The queen threw up her hands, furious. “The priestess... Myra...”

“We'll take her,” the king declared with a sharp tone, “but Aidan has to eliminate the resistance once and for all. He has to take care of protecting the crown if he wants to inherit one!”