The Call Of Shadows (eBook)

Mary Mirabel (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
220 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-112614-5 (ISBN)

Infos

I was born into a wolf pack that never wanted me.

My she-wolf never emerged, branding me weak, failed, and expendable. I survived only by mastering knife throwing-and by staying invisible.

When my father offers me to the cruelest wolf in the pack, I flee.

Desperate, I strike a pact with three powerful alpha warriors. They will protect me. In return, I belong to them-whether I understand the cost or not.

But my father is relentless. He is hunting me.

When the pact expires, I will be prey once more.

My daggers may not be enough.
My strange, living Shadows may fail me.
And even the warriors-dark, dangerous, and irresistible-may not be able to save me from what I truly am becoming.

Because my heart is no longer untouched... and neither is my fate.

The Call Of Shadows is a dark fantasy romance series featuring possessive shapeshifters, deadly bonds, and a she-wolf with forbidden powers-who never has to choose between her companions.

Textauszug

Chapter 1

Lyra

The crowd in the stands groans and roars, driven mad by the promise of blood and carnage to come. They grow restless, impatient. Howls rise in response, like a wave of stone rolling across the arena before crashing down on the audience.

I can smell the sour undertones of their excitement, mixed with the metallic scent of fear. It’s so overpowering it feels suffocating. My head spins, my heart races. I force myself to breathe slowly, trying to calm the frantic pounding in my chest.

The arena, a massive structure, resembles a prison more than a performance space, with its high, thick walls and hard, sandy floor. It forms a circle over fifty meters in diameter, surrounded by stone benches that rise up a dozen stories. The Alpha Prime of the pack had it built after the Great War, modeled on ancient human structures, to indulge his insane penchant for violence and death. I also suspect he sought to keep his warriors occupied, so they wouldn't challenge him.

Today, the benches are filled with ashen-coated wolves, eager for slaughter. Those who have chosen to watch in their human form won’t emerge unscathed, given the chaos reigning on the benches.

A balcony juts out into the center like a ship’s prow, overlooking the enclosure. This is where I stand, kneeling, a delicate white veil over my face. It’s translucent enough for me to see clearly, yet effectively conceals me from the distant crowd. They see only the immaculate dress with wide, embroidered sleeves worn by the future companions—far too light for the cold and the wind that chills me to the bone. I force myself to remain motionless, adopting a dignified yet humble posture befitting my rank, as though indifferent to the chaos around me.

A set-up. A fucking hoax.

The black-uniformed guards behind me aren’t protecting me—they’re watching me. The rope shackling my wrists and ankles cuts into my skin. The virginal veil covering my face is there to hide the monstrous new bruise on my cheek and the gash along my neck.

This is not a celebration, but a sacrifice of which I am the unwilling offering.

I’m mad with rage. I’m scared to death.

My breath catches, feeling like I'm drowning. I force air deep into my chest, but it doesn’t make the panic recede. I dig my short nails into my palms, forcing the sting of pain to replace the fear.

The fights will determine my future companion, the wolf who will have the chance to mate with Princess Lyra, the lucky one… A sordid charade orchestrated by Alpha Terdzik, the First of the Eastern Pack.

My father.

He’s sitting on a high-backed wooden chair beside me. He leans toward me, annoyed, and growls under his breath as I hiss:

— Silence, or I’ll offer you directly to Cassius.

"You know how much I'm looking forward to this," my father’s right-hand man whispers in my ear.

A cold shiver runs down my spine. I swallow. Other wolves don’t scare me. I’ve learned to steel myself against blows and insults, bracing my body and protecting my heart so it hurts less.

But Cassius… Cassius terrifies me.

His black uniform, that of the head of my father’s bodyguard, has haunted my nightmares since I was a child. He is massive, with hard features and lips always twisted into a cruel sneer. Every time his small, cold, black eyes rest on me, I feel as though he’s draining the life out of me, like the Corrupted drain the blood of their victims.

Under the indifferent gaze of my father, Cassius lifts me, grabbing my arm, pretending to support me with his “protective presence,” as I salute the crowd with a dignified tilt of my chin. The audience whistles and shouts, gripped by a madness worthy of an apocalyptic full moon. Then Cassius presses himself against my back, discreetly rubbing his hips against me in a mock sexual act.

He shifts the veil and licks my neck. I want to vomit and slit his throat at the same time. I turn to glare at him. Cassius is close enough to see me easily through the thin fabric. He stares at me with a sick expression. I try not to flinch. He would be only too happy to see me scared, but I refuse to grant him that pleasure.

— Get out, Cassius, I say curtly.

"Oh, Lyra, I’ll teach you to speak to me with respect," the brute whispers in my ear. "I’m going to love training you."

I stiffen, accentuating the bite of the rope on my skin, under the sleeves of my dress. The blood draws tiny red stains on the fabric, like delicate flowers my little sister loves so much. Fire rings, I think.

I focus on the scarlet trails to keep panic from spreading its poison within me. It would only take one wrong breath for my father to carry out his threat.

— She’s not yours yet, snaps Terdzik.

— Of course, Premier. I haven’t forgotten it, the brute declares in a honeyed tone.

I wish there were still a shred of hope, but the outcome of the fights is rigged, like everything else. The wolves who will tear each other apart in the arena for three days don’t know it, but they don’t stand a chance. Cassius will be declared the winner, and I will become his mate. That’s been the plan all along.

I close my eyes to escape this hellish vision, letting the roars of the crowd invade me to stifle the frantic beating of my heart.

My father’s right-hand man is known for his boundless violence, and the females in his harem are often "replaced." My status as a princess won’t save me. If anyone in this pack doesn’t enjoy privilege, it’s me. I’m the eldest daughter of Terdzik, one of the most fearsome alphas on the continent.

But I am also the failure, the shameful secret he wants to eradicate.

The She-Wolf. My father’s ultimate disappointment.

In our pack, females are only useful for reproduction. But without a wolf, there’s no heat, no chance of having cubs. I’m useless in my father’s eyes.

I feel my animal growling deep inside me, scratching to break free. My wolf howls beneath my mind, furious at being imprisoned. But she can’t get out. While all the little children learned to live with their wolves, I subjected my father to humiliations and blows, hoping to provoke my animal, to force her out.

Nothing worked—my pleas, the alpha’s fists, the treatments ordered by the healers, not even the sorcerers’ spells. Atrocious and painful rituals that still haunt me with nightmares. My wolf never appeared, as if she were too fragile to break my spirit and free herself. And yet, I can feel her—powerful, dark, and imprisoned within me. A shadow, trapped within my bones and flesh, leaving me vulnerable and helpless.

My father stands, his tall form commanding respect. Silence falls almost instantly. Today is a day of celebration, but our kind never forgets how dangerous it is to disobey the First Alpha. My father didn’t inherit this position—he claimed it through bloody challenges. I wasn’t born yet, but the stories of his deeds paint him as an invincible hero, with thick blonde hair and angelic beauty. A ruthless creature with elegant features, who rules his pack with an iron fist.

It’s almost the truth. It only obscures the fact that my father is, above all, a manipulator, and while there have been some fair fights, murder and betrayal are his weapons of choice. There’s no dignity in his meteoric rise, only an unquenchable thirst for power and a will of steel.

The wolves sit down, seething with impatience. In a loud voice that rolls through the arena, my father announces:

— At the end of these three days, the princess will be mated with the winner, sealing an agreement with a new pack, which will gain our protection. A new ally, a new union, a new opportunity to show the world the power of the Eastern Pack!

The shouts of approval resume. Terdzik silences them with a raised hand.

— Let us listen to the princess pronounce the blessing.

My father never speaks my name. I am only "the princess" when he addresses his people, and nothing at all in private. "You over there" is the best he can do in terms of friendliness. When I was little, and still trying to win his affection, I would have given anything to hear him say my name aloud, to acknowledge my existence.

The crowd holds its breath. I scan the wolves occupying the stands, recognizing almost every one of them. I hate them. I’m tempted to throw my father’s twisted plan at them, instead of this stupid prayer, but they wouldn’t believe me. Their devotion to the First borders on hysteria. Unless it’s just an expression of caution, because it’s better to please the alpha if you want to survive in the Eastern Pack.

“Hurry up,” my father growls through his teeth, his voice colder than ice.

I approach the railing, my too-thin dress fluttering in the spring wind like a massive sail. After a final hesitation, I abandon my act of rebellion. I’ve learned to choose my battles, saving my energy for those that aren’t lost in advance. In a flat voice, I recite the prayer that precedes battles:

— Goddess of wolves, Mother of all existence, in the darkness guide our ferocity. Bless our greedy fangs, our sharp claws. Grant us your strength, O Queen of Battles, let your magic flow through our veins, proud and wild, bloody and invincible. Before you, we bow.

The crowd bows its heads at my final words, reverent. I don’t know if the Goddess exists, but I’m fairly certain that if she is our mother, she doesn’t find it amusing to see us tearing each other apart in her name.

While they all remain prostrate, my prayer rises silently to heaven, vibrant with my plea: Goddess, help me escape from...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 20.12.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-112614-8 / 0001126148
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-112614-5 / 9780001126145