Far away from the bustling empire of Anbord and the warm lands of Southern Debranlith, a kingdom strived on, developing steadily just a few months after being established.
Their alliance with Anbord had done wonders. Not the polite, diplomatic "we’ll send you grain and call it a day" kind of alliance. No. This was a full cultural fusion, a turbo-charged modernization spliced straight into a tribal society still fond of wearing wolf pelts and wrestling snow bears for fun.
The Fenrir folk still kept their old ways, their round huts, their hunting grounds, their ritual stones, but now their settlents glead with reinforced tal fras, heated water systems, and wide roads carved into the permafrost. It was a strange blend of ancient ferocity and sleek future-tech, like a Viking village upgraded by a sci-fi engineer who really liked aesthetics.
And then there was the castle.
"Castle" almost felt like an insult for sothing so monuntal.
At the far north, where normal humans would shrivel into ice pops within minutes, a colossal structure dominated the land like a deity frozen mid-rise from the tundra. It was massive, so big that even the blizzards couldn’t hide its silhouette. Six stories tall, wider than a stadium, forged from thick layers of enchanted ice, obsidian stone, and tallic spines that shimred frost-blue under the sun.
Its walls glead white as morning snow. Blue runic patterns, symbols of the Fenrir ancestors, glowed across the surfaces like veins carrying ancient energy. The front gates were two slabs of reinforced ice-steel shaped into snarling lupine faces that opened only for those bearing the royal crest.
But the crowning glory sat at the very top:A gigantic statue of a white wolf, mid-howl, facing the eternal northern sky.
It wasn’t just decorative. It was magnificent.
This frozen citadel was ho to Fenrir’s royal family, the Duskhavens.
...
In the largest chamber of the Fenrir castle, a room unmistakably crafted for a queen, soft moonlight spilled through frosted crystal windows, scattering silver glimrs across every corner. The space wasn’t rely luxurious; it carried the primal regality of a dynasty born in snow.
A beautiful wolf-blooded woman lay sprawled across the enormous fur-draped bed, her head dangling lazily off the edge. Her long white hair pooled onto the floor like a stream of powdered frost, and her lupine ears twitched with every shift of wind that managed to slip through the enchanted panes. Her tail flicked now and then, betraying a restlessness she tried, and failed to disguise.
The room itself felt alive.
Snow roses, legendary flowers that blood only under subzero moonlight, adorned the walls and pillars in thick garlands. Their crystalline petals glowed faintly blue, humming with the kingdom’s ancestral magic. Whenever one fell, it drifted through the air like a tiny frozen cot, dissolving before it touched the ground.
Icicle chandeliers hung from the ceiling, shaped into spirals and rings, refracting light into dancing, wolf-shaped illusions that prowled across the walls. Runic braziers burned with gentle blue fire that provided warmth without lting a thing. Every fabric, from the velvet curtains to the sprawling rugs, was patterned with ancient Fenrir sigils of strength, lineage, and moon blessings.
Near the bed, a massive circular mural dominated the floor: a white wolf goddess etched in silver and sapphire, her jaws open in a silent howl toward the heavens. The mural thrumd softly beneath the queen, as if sensing her mood.
The air tasted like winter and comfort.The room felt like a den carved for royalty and battle-born lineage alike.
And on the bed, Queen Emma Fenrir, warrior and ruler, stared upside-down at the ceiling with the expression of soone trying to rember whether she had eaten breakfast... or whether she should get up and tear soone’s throat out for disturbing her peace.
One could almost hear the snow roses quiver in anticipation of whatever she did next.
The world outside might have been turning, but inside this room, a queen was very clearly waiting for sothing, or soone, to break the quiet.
"I miss him so much..." She muttered in a quiet voice that was barely audible to even her. She had just gotten a notice on her device, a gift Regnare had given her as a good prince, so she could get in contact with her soulmate, Ethan, even from across kingdoms and empires. Just thinking about that day made her chuckle in embarrassnt
She thought the Crown Prince had fallen in love with her, but he was just helping his father, since the emperor had even forgotten to provide her with a ans of contact. She clearly rembered the prince’s words like it were just yesterday.
"Father can be a bit... stupid sotis when it cos to matters relating to his soulmates. Hehe... please don’t tell him this, otherwise he will erase from existence." The prince had said with an awkward laugh, but she could tell he was being honest. And on that day, she learnt one important thing.
The bond of a father and son.
Her father and her brothers had a similar bond, but werewolves weren’t exactly the family kind. Even the head of the family isn’t determined by lineage or firstborn, but through battles. She was only the queen because she was the most powerful werewolf in the world, and she had 100% of the Ancestor’s bloodline, making her the new and official Fenrir. She had inherited everything Fenrir had, becoming the new World Wolf.
But Ethan and Regnare were different. Even the son, who was way younger than his father, was posing as the middleman for him. That was just too fascinating for her. If he was like this with his son, then how was he with his daughter and the other family mbers?
The notice she got was an invitation to the official naming ceremony of the new mbers of the imperial family, babies of Harley. That was also the day Delphina would awaken her full powers officially. But her invitation was a VSG: Very Special Guest.
It was clearly stated that there would be another ceremony afterwards, which she was invited to witness. Her mind was currently going through various scenarios of what exactly this special ceremony was, but she couldn’t find any. She could only wait for now.
The ceremonies would be the following week, which was four days from the current day, a little ti, but it felt like ages for her.
"If only..." She whispered, imagining Ethan contacting her personally. He had never done so after they signed the alliance and she returned to her growing kingdom. It was only Regnare who was updating her on things. She had gotten videos of even the birth of the twins, and could only imagine what kind of children she and Ethan could birth.
If only...
...
In a large room, far from Fenrir and its eternal snowfall, chaos brewed in a very different flavor.
Inside the Kael’Dri estate, specifically Ethan and Harley’s master suite, a bed so massive it could house a small militia, Ethan paced like a lunatic general awaiting bad news. His device hovered in his hand, the holographic call interface blinking, daring him to press it.
His expression was an exquisite blend of confusion, fear, and deep internal screaming. Behind him, his wives lounged on the sprawling bed, wrapped in blankets, robes, and smug amusent.
Lisa finally cracked.
"Just call her already..."
Ethan practically hopped backward. "Don’t you dare laugh, woman!"
Harley hid her giggle behind a pillow. Clara didn’t even try. Pisces rolled onto her stomach like she was watching a cody show. And Barki, sweet, loud Barki, burst into unrestrained laughter that rattled the room.
"Co on, bro! You’re the emperor for the ancestors’ sake!"
The laughter froze.
Every head on the bed snapped toward her with such synchronized disbelief it could’ve powered a ritual.
"Bro?" Pisces blinked, scandalized.
"Did you actually call your mate bro?" Elaine asked, her hand over her chest like she might faint.
"What if he stops breeding you?" Vaeloria whispered in a tragic tone, as if reciting a horror story.
"That’s literally the spell of eternal friendzone," Clara declared, looking genuinely concerned for Barki’s future children.
"I hear Reg say it all the ti to Rhask!" Barki defended quickly, tail puffing up like a startled cat.
"That’s because they’re bros," Andriel said gently. "Not your man."
"But..." Barki tried again.
"Nope."
"Absolutely not."
"Unacceptable."
"Ungodly," Seraphis chid in from her floaty ditative perch, not even opening her eyes.
Barki wilted, ears flattening.
"I didn’t an to de-masculinize my husband..."
Ethan groaned dramatically and rubbed his face. "For the love of the cosmos, I’m still right here."
"You’re adorable when you’re flustered," Harley added, giving him that soft, warm smile that lted him every ti.
"Yes, well... stop noticing it." Ethan cleared his throat, raising the device. "I’m not scared. I’m simply... cautiously approaching a volatile situation."
"You’re scared," Asteria said serenely, sipping tea.
"Terrified," Vaeloria added.
"Shaking like a puppy in a hurricane," Clara said.
"Utterly pathetic," Lisa agreed.
Ethan threw his hands in the air. "All of you are banned. Banned from speaking."
The wives collectively gasped, then cackled harder.
He glared at the device. His thumb hovered over the call button. His heartbeat thumped like a tribal drum in a cave.
Harley finally nudged him with her voice. "She’s your ally and your friend. She won’t bite."
From the bed, Pisces muttered, "She might actually bite."
"She bit a titan last week, from what Reg told ," Seraphis added helpfully.
"Fantastic," Ethan sighed. "I’m definitely going to die."
He looked at the device again.
At the wolf icon glowing patiently.
At the na: Emma Fenrir.
Ethan inhaled deeply.
And pressed call.
The wives leaned in like kids watching a fireworks show, eager for the explosion.
"Umm... hello?"
All hell broke loose!
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