Damien La Lucretia
The eldest of the La Lucretia triplets. Grand Duke of the Northern Carithian Empire.
Standing behind his bride, he traced her shoulder down to her arm with the back of his fingers.
"I've always known I'd have to share my wife with my brothers," he whispered, her soft floral scent curling around him. His eyes lifted, catching hers in the mirror. "Yet the thought of another man touching you… drives me mad."
She slowly turned her head, meeting his gaze.
Damien pinched her chin and lowered his mouth to hers, claiming the seal of marriage before the words I do were ever spoken.
****
Lucien La Lucretia
The second. The fire. The Empire's strongest warrior.
"You are mine," he growled, slamming his hands against the wall on either side of her.
He pressed his body close, caging her in as her back nearly fused with the cold stone. His golden eyes burned, hair bristling along his arms, and deep within—his wolf howled for her.
She wasn't even part wolf, and yet his body and soul craved her like blood to flame.
He leaned in, voice a low snarl against her ear.
"I can have you whenever I want, however I want. And right now… I want you."
****
Mathias La Lucretia
The youngest. The artist. The charming deviant.
"Beauty is pain, and pain… is art," he mused, hand braced on the door to block her escape.
She felt his warmth behind her as he leaned in.
"In my studio," he whispered, "every canvas belongs to my muse."
Every sketch — every stroke — was her. Not just her face. Her entire body.
"Tell me…" he drawled, arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. "Shouldn't a loving wife show her husband whether he painted everything under that skirt correctly?"
****
Solenne Drevante
Not a wolf. Not even part wolf.
Just a human. A royal sacrifice in the name of peace.
To the world, it was a union. To her, it was a death sentence.
Trapped in a palace gilded in gold to mask the chains, Solenne must navigate a world of betrayal, lies, and ambition… while hiding a truth only she remembers.
Because history has a habit of repeating itself.
And this time, Solenne doesn't just plan to survive it.
She plans to weaponize it.
****
[ Imperial Decree ]
By the order of the Imperial Court, the House of La Lucretia of the North shall enter a sacred pact with the Royal House of Drevante, guardians of the South and Sorcery.
The bride: Solenne Drevante.
The grooms: Damien, Lucien, and Mathias La Lucretia.
May this union bring the Empire peace and prosperity…
—or blood.