Seductive Trinity of Mates
Description
Prince Kieran, battle-scarred and cynical, faces an impossible choice. The Lycan Kingdom teeters on the brink of war, and only a strategic marriage can prevent bloodshed. His father demands he choose one bride from three powerful Alpha daughters: gentle healer Lilith Moonwhisper, fierce warrior Astrid Ironheart, or brilliant strategist Nyx Stormcaller. But fate shatters every rule. When Kieran's touch ignites an unprecedented mate bond, he discovers the impossible-he's destined for all three women. In a world where one mate is sacred law, three connections could destroy everything. Each woman awakens a different part of his soul: Lilith's healing touch melts his hardened heart, Astrid's warrior spirit matches his own fire, and Nyx's strategic mind complements his leadership. As political tensions explode and ancient laws crumble, Kieran must claim his three mates or watch his kingdom burn. But claiming them means defying tradition, sparking revolution, and risking everything he's sworn to protect.
Chapter 1
Jul 24, 2025
[POV Kieran]
The most exclusive brothel in the Royal Territory reeked of cheap perfume, sweat, and desperate longing.
I sprawled against velvet cushions, a half-empty goblet of potent mead dangling from my fingers, watching women in various states of undress perform their practiced seductions.
Two years in the Southern Wilds had left me hungry for something that didn’t involve steel and screams. I’d ridden hard for days to reach this place, needing to purge war’s taste from my mouth.
"Your Highness burns with restless energy tonight." The brunette's voice purred like honey and sin. Her fingers traced the fresh battle scars across my chest with reverent precision, each touch sending sparks through my war-weary body. "Let me kindle a different kind of fire."
Her lips found my throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin while her companion—a golden-haired beauty with eyes like liquid amber—pressed against my other side.
Their combined heat chased away the cold that had settled in my bones during weeks of blood-soaked campaigns.
At thirty, I’d perfected the art of physical satisfaction without emotional investment—maintaining my reputation as a desirable prince while keeping my heart safely locked away.
"You taste of steel and storms," the blonde whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "I want to taste something sweeter."
I caught her wrist, my grip firm but not cruel as I studied her flushed face. "And what makes you think I possess anything sweet?"
"Everyone has something tender hidden beneath their armor." Her free hand traced lower on my trousers, boldly claiming territory. "Even warrior princes."
The brunette's laugh was throaty music. "Especially warrior princes. All that power, all that control—it must be exhausting to carry such weight."
Their ministrations grew bolder, more insistent. Practiced seduction designed to unravel the most disciplined men.
For a moment, I allowed myself to sink into the sensation, to let mortal pleasures eclipse the screams of dying wolves that haunted my nights.
"Tell us your deepest desire," the brunette commanded, her lips brushing my jawline. "What does the prince crave when no one is watching?"
"Resurrection," I said, my voice cutting through their spell like a blade through silk.
Both women froze.
"Your Highness?" The blonde's voice wavered, confusion replacing confidence.
"Can you bring back the dead?" I sat up, golden eyes burning with predatory intensity. "Twelve wolves died under my command three nights ago. Can your considerable talents silence their screams?"
The carefully constructed seduction crumbled. The brunette pulled back, her painted smile fracturing. "My lord, surely tonight is meant for pleasure, not—"
"Not truth?" I let my wolf rise to the surface, power radiating from my skin like heat from a forge. "How refreshing."
Both women went still. Humans possessed instinctive recognition of predators, even when their minds refused acknowledgment. This was precisely why I preferred the purchased company.
No emotional attachments to exploit, no weaknesses for enemies to leverage.
I’d seen too many good soldiers die because love made them hesitate, too many leaders destroyed by hearts overruling tactical minds.
The mate bond especially disgusted me—magical compulsion masquerading as romance felt like slavery of the worst kind.
The door exploded inward, wood splintering against stone.
Every heartbeat stuttered. The women scrambled backward while I remained motionless, though my grip tightened until metal groaned.
A boy stood in the doorway, maybe sixteen, chest heaving with terror at interrupting the prince. His wide eyes found mine and nearly bolted.
“Your Highness.” His voice cracked. “King Theon demands your immediate presence in the throne room. The matter cannot wait another hour.”
My expression darkened. Father knew better than to interrupt my private time unless the situation was truly dire.
“Does he now?” I set the goblet aside with deliberate care. “And what crisis requires such urgency?”
“He said—” The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “He said to tell you the wolves are howling.”
Ice crystallized in my veins.
I rose in one fluid motion, dismissing the women with casual indifference. Their hopeful expressions crumbled into disappointment as I dressed, but I felt nothing.
They were shadows now, irrelevant human warmth in a world about to catch fire.
***
The throne room doors groaned beneath my hands. Inside, torchlight danced across stone walls carved with our pack’s bloody history.
Father stood before the great hearth, silver hair catching firelight. Even motionless, he radiated authority that made distant Alphas genuflect without question.
“Kieran.” He didn’t turn. “Close the doors.”
I complied, the sound echoing like a funeral bell. “The boy mentioned howling.”
“Poetic child.” His laugh held no warmth.
Maps covered the massive oak table—territories marked in red ink resembling fresh blood. Pins marked familiar locations: battle sites, massacre grounds, places where diplomacy had died screaming.
“The High Packs are on the brink of war.” His silver eyes, so like my own, were heavy with worry. “The Western Alpha blames the Northern for the last border skirmish. The Southern’s resources are dwindling, making them desperate. Our alliances are fracturing.”
I nodded, accustomed to his bluntness. “What is your command, Father? Another campaign?”
He shook his head, a deep sigh escaping. “No, my son. The marriage.”
Silence fell with the weight of a headsman’s axe.
“Marriage?” I laughed without humor. “You want to solve continental warfare with wedding vows?”
“Not only marriage, Kieran. A mating bond.”
“Absolutely not.” My wolf surged forward, voice emerging as a growl. “I won’t be bred like livestock for political convenience.”
“Your personal desires died the moment you inherited this crown!” His roar shook ancient windows. “You think I chose love when I claimed your mother?”
“And look how beautifully that ended.” The words escaped before wisdom could intervene. “She’s been dead ten years, and you still flinch at her name.”
His hand cracked across my face faster than mortal eyes could follow. I let it land, let him see his violence meant nothing.
“You will not speak of your mother with such disrespect.” His voice dropped to deadly quiet. “She died protecting this kingdom.”
I straightened, tasting blood. “Then don’t dishonor her memory by prostituting me for political gain.”
“You’re the crown prince of the most powerful pack in five territories. Your bloodline carries power others only dream of.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then we fall.” Simple words carrying infinite weight. “Alliances crumble. Territories burn. Thousands die.”
I stared at this man who’d shaped me into his perfect weapon.
“When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow at moonrise. Silver Moon Pack first.”
Seductive Trinity of Mates
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