A Prophecy of Crowns and Harmony

Chapter 1

Juniper

The blaring alarm clock near my ears jolted me from my sleep. My eyes blinked open and shut as they tried to adjust to the light seeping in from around the room-darkening shades that covered the massive windows in my bedroom.

I loved the view those windows provided of the sprawling forest during the day and the expansive heavens late at night, but I never failed to curse their existence in the early hours of the morning. No amount of room darkening curtains could mask the light from the blazing sun rising high into the sky.

I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to block out the sound of the alarm and clinging to the last remnants of my dream. It was a futile act, as the memory went away like sand through my fingers at the beach.

I flopped my body over with a groan. My arm searched the nightstand fruitlessly for the alarm to shut it off, only vaguely aware of what my hand was touching in place of where my alarm normally sat. It felt odd, like a small box with something crinkly and delicate attached to the top.

I grabbed it and pulled it closer to myself on the bed, my eyes squinting at it as they adjusted to the level of light in the room. My other hand slammed the alarm off with a quick hit.

It was a small gift box, wrapped neatly in green wrapping paper, with a gold bow attached to the top, my name written across the top in a swirling script.

That was when it finally hit me. It was my birthday. And not just any birthday. The birthday. My 19th birthday. One of the most important days in a witch’s life. Or werewolf. Or any supernatural creature, really.

18 for us meant adulthood, just like it did for humans. 19 meant that we could identify our mates, our soulmate, the person made just for us, the other half of our soul.

Not everyone found their mate as soon as they turned 19; I hoped I would find mine on my birthday, even though some supernaturals waited 10 years or more.

I jumped out of my queen-sized bed. The unopened gift sat forgotten on top of my ivory duvet, and I rushed to my walk-in closet to pick out my clothing for the day. A whiff of chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and coffee wafted up the stairs from the kitchen as I got ready.

I smiled to myself as I pulled my dark wash jeans on, my stomach rumbling in anticipation as the scents reached my nose. My parents always arranged for our birthdays to be special for us — us being my brother, Myles, and me. For me, that always meant chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, and a cozy dinner in the evening for my family and my closest friends.

The members of the pack found it odd that I didn’t want to have a big party on the eve of my 19th. They found it odd that I hadn’t wanted to stand in front of everybody just before midnight and wait to see if my mate would recognize me and claim me in front of every werewolf in attendance.

I guess that’s what happened when you were a witch who grew up in a wolf pack. Many of our customs and beliefs were similar, but wolves worshiped Selene while we worshiped Gaia, and the way we identified our mates was different as well.

Werewolves first identified their mate by their scent; an intoxicating scent that only a mate could smell, that drew the wolf inside of them to their other half. Then the bond would snap into place as they made eye contact for the first time after scenting each other.

For witches, we had to identify our mates by touching them. At the first contact with our mate, we would receive a jolt of magic that would spread from where they touched us straight to our hearts. That is how a witch recognized their mate.

So, even though I knew I would be excited to share that I had found my mate with everyone in the pack, I also didn’t want to have everyone watch me touch the hands of every unmated male nineteen or older at midnight on my birthday. That just seemed… excessive.

Instead, I had my parents plan my birthday dinner like usual. Especially since the person I was hoping would be my mate would be there, just like he had been since we were both very young.

I pulled my black hoodie over my head, freeing my long, honey blonde waves from the hood and letting them settle around my shoulders and down my back. I then moved from my walk-in closet to the small en suite bathroom connected to my room.

Just as I began brushing my teeth, I heard my phone ping a few times from my desk. I sprinted to grab it, my toothbrush still hanging from my mouth as I checked the messages.

Lukas: Happy Birthday petite sorcière (little witch)

Lukas: I have a gift for you. I was hoping I could give it to you before your dinner tonight.

My heart skipped a beat in my chest as I read and reread his messages, before tapping out a quick response that I would meet him in thirty minutes.

I returned to the bathroom, finishing my routine with shaking hands and butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He wanted to see me. He wanted to see me alone.

I was excited and somewhat terrified all at the same time. Excited, because it meant I would know soon if Lukas was my mate, and terrified because I was not sure my heart could take it if he wasn’t.

Meeting him alone to find out was perhaps better. Definitely better. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I had to find out in front of our parents and all of our friends. There was no way I could hide my disappointment through the meal if it turned out he wasn’t my mate.

Meeting him this way was better. I would have time to make my peace with it during the day, so by dinnertime I would have come to terms with it and accepted it. I hoped.

Who was I kidding? If he was not mine, I would be miserable for a while. I had been in love with Lukas Banks, Future Alpha of the Midnight Moon pack, since I was 14 years old, and we had been best friends since long before that — since my parents had first brought us here when I was just a baby and he was not even two.

Our little group of four — Lukas, his younger sister, Everly, his future Beta, Drew, and I — had been inseparable since childhood. We had other friends too, of course. But it had always been the four of us that our parents could frame any mischief on. Although, after the three of them got their wolves, and Drew and I could use our magic to hide our tracks, it made it a little more difficult for us to be caught red-handed.

And even though the laws put in place by King Tobias before we were even born technically outlawed interspecies mates, Midnight Moon had always been more outspoken in their disagreement with his prejudiced ideals. We were relatively safe in our small pack on the edge of the kingdom. The royals had never visited our pack in all the years I had been living there. So I wasn’t too worried about any negative fall out should Lukas end up as my mate.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, followed by my dad’s voice letting me know that breakfast was almost ready. I took one last glance at myself in the mirror before heading downstairs.

As I entered the kitchen, my mom greeted me with a squeal and a tight hug. Her petite body knocked into my less petite body, and almost sent me to the hardwood floor with her enthusiasm.

“Good morning, Mom,” I squeaked out as her arms crushed my ribs. She always seemed to forget how strong she was. “Breakfast smells delicious.”

“Happy birthday, Princess,” my dad said from behind me.

I turned towards his voice and found him leaning against the doorway, a smile on his face and in his gray eyes as he watched Mom and me hugging.

I pulled myself out of my mom’s arms and walked to my dad, who hugged me tighter than I could ever remember him hugging me. “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered, as tears began forming in the backs of my eyes.

I buried my face in his shirt, soaking in his comfort as I took a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden rush of emotions that flooded into me at that moment. I didn’t want my parents to see that I was emotional on my birthday.

Once my emotions had settled, I pulled myself from my dad’s arms and headed to the white marble counter to dish up my breakfast. I glanced at the number of plates set out and furrowed my brow in confusion before turning to where my mom sat on a bar stool at the counter. “I thought Myles was coming home?”

“He got held up with something,” my dad responded from next to me as he dished up his food. “He should arrive in about an hour.”

“Oh,” I replied in a quiet voice, trying to hide the frown forming on my face at that news. We hadn’t seen one another in three years. He left for his witch training at 19, and he couldn’t even have breakfast with me on what was potentially the most important birthday of my life?

“Hey. Your brother will be here, okay?” Dad soothed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, looking down at me with a small smile. “He misses you just as much as you miss him.”

“He sure has a funny way of showing it,” I mumbled, ducking out from under Dad’s arm to sit in my seat at our dining room table.

My parents were whispering behind me, but I blocked them out, turning my attention to the windows in front of me. I watched as a breeze blew through the dense forest, rustling the leaves of the trees and blowing debris from the forest floor up into the air.

I used the images to calm my mind and settle my temper. There was no reason to add to the unsettled feelings I was already having because of my meeting with Lukas happening soon.

I was not mad at my brother; not truly. I knew that if he could come home earlier, he would have. But with the intense magical training, he could not get away from his academy until his graduation. Luckily, that was a few days ago.

We ate the rest of our breakfast in comfortable silence, with only the sounds of our silverware against our plates, and our quiet chewing and swallowing. My parents’ eyes were on me from behind me. I knew they were perhaps waiting for me to blow up, or they were communicating with each other through their mate link. Or both.

I glanced at my watch and saw that I had only 10 minutes until I had agreed to meet Lukas. I stood up, taking my dishes to the large, white farmhouse sink to rinse them and place them in the dishwasher.

“Juniper.”

I glanced up to see my parents both watching me with serious expressions, and I felt a sudden sense of dread as I watched their faces. “Am I in trouble?” I asked with a small chuckle, trying to laugh away their sudden seriousness.

“Did you… did you open the gift we left you?” my mom asked with caution, sharing a small glance with my dad.

I blinked at her, then remembered the gift I had snatched from my nightstand earlier that morning. The gift I had altogether forgotten about in my excitement and anticipation of what might happen. “Oh, um… no, actually. I kind of forgot about it. I was… distracted, I guess.”

My hand tucked my hair behind my ears and checked my watch again. I needed to leave soon to be at our spot on time.

“I’ll just open it later? Tonight, with all my other gifts?” I called to them while walking towards the front door, not meeting their eyes as I slipped my white Converse on my feet from their spot under the entryway bench.

My dad followed me to the entryway, speaking as he walked behind me. “No, Juniper, you need to open it now. There are things—”

“Can it wait? Please? There is somewhere I need to be, but I promise I’ll be back!” I cut him off before he could say anything else and ran out the front door, through the white gate, and down the private path that led to our cottage.

I heard him call out to me from the door, but I ignored him. The wishing well stood between the house and the packhouse, and I ducked around the bend in the path to get to it.

The closer I got to the well, the more nervous I became. My hands were shaking in the pockets of my hoodie, my teeth chattering even though it wasn’t cold outside. I tried to focus on the energies flowing through me, both positive and negative, to calm my nerves and dispel them as a magical pulse. But my body was too tense, my mind too unruly to focus on my power and calm myself with my magic.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the well. The small clearing was as beautiful as it was in my childhood.

Wild blossoming honeysuckle covered the arched trellises that marked the paths at each of the four entrances, and the beautiful scent hung in the surrounding air. The benches that sat in the middle of the square-shaped space were worn and old. But they were made from a wood that had held up well over the years.

A hummingbird flitted from the vines of one trellis to the next, collecting nectar from each archway before it headed back into the forest of our pack lands. I turned my focus back to the old wishing well, my hands resting on the gray stone surrounding it, staring into the dark depths.

My eyes closed as I waited, my memories of this place swirling through my mind until one special memory from our childhood pushed forward in my thoughts.

I sat on the ground, my back pressed up against the stone of the wishing well. Tears streamed down my face as I played their words over and over in my head.

“… not like us…”

“… not a real member of the pack…”

I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to make my tiny, 10-year-old body as small as I could, trying to make myself disappear.

It wasn’t the first time I had heard those words, but I was just at the age that I realized what they meant, that I noticed I wasn’t like the other children who lived in the pack, realized that I wouldn’t turn into a wolf when I turned 14, no matter how hard I wished for it or how much I prayed to Selene and Gaia to give me one.

I shrank down even smaller as I heard footsteps approaching, wishing my magic could make me invisible. But I knew even if I was, whoever was approaching would still smell me.

“June?”

I jerked my head up at Lukas’s voice, my emerald eyes finding his dark blue irises as he sat himself down next to me on the ground.

“Why are you here?” My face was serious and confused as I spoke to him in an icy voice. “I’m a nobody. I’m not even a real pack member.” The words came out choked, my bottom lip quivering as I tried to stop the tears that were falling again.

“You know that’s not true, Junie,” he murmured, his arm coming around my shoulders in a side hug.

Even at only 12, he was already strong, already beginning to be built like the alpha wolf he would become in a few years. I settled my head against his shoulder, not caring that my tears would soak into the fabric of his shirt and leave a mark. He was my safe place, my best friend.

“Those kids that said that to you, they’re just jealous. Jealous because they can’t do the things that you do, and jealous because you are friends with me. But I would never be friends with people who hurt the people I care about.”

I tilted my head up to look at his face, checking to make sure that he meant what he said, that he wasn’t teasing me or messing around with me.

“I mean it, little witch. You’re part of this pack. An important part. You’ll always be important to me, and I’ll always be on your side, always care about you, and always protect you — wolf or not.”

“Promise?” I asked him, a small smile forming on my lips.

“Pinky promise,” he replied with a laugh, sticking his little finger out towards mine, waiting for me to reciprocate.

I linked my pinky with his, my smile growing wider with every passing moment.

I sensed his presence before I saw him, his powerful aura breaking me out of my memory as I turned to watch him walk towards me. My breath felt like it was stuck inside my lungs. My heart felt like it was trying to escape from my chest as he walked closer to me, a broad smile gracing his beautiful face, his deep blue eyes locked onto me as he approached.

I watched his eyes as he got closer to me, watched for any telltale signs he was recognizing me as his, that his wolf smelled his mate for the first time and was trying to come forward to claim me, but his eyes remained the same.

I looked away for a moment, trying to settle myself. I told myself that maybe he was better at controlling it than other werewolves since he was an Alpha, that maybe he wanted me to touch him first so that I could realize it before he claimed me out loud.

The tears were threatening to form, so I swallowed them down. There was no reason to cry. Not yet. Not until my skin touched his.

I turned to look at him again, and he was standing right in front of me, taking deep breaths as he waited for me to acknowledge him. Was he smelling me? Was that why his lungs were inhaling air as if his life depended on it?

He had two wrapped gifts in his hands — one larger and one smaller, both wrapped carelessly in pink paper, large pieces of tape stuck on everywhere, and imperfect folds on each corner.

Even at almost 21 years old, he still hadn’t learned the proper way to wrap a gift, and I loved him even more for it.

He was watching me as he held the gifts out to me. “Happy birthday, little witch,” he said in a soft voice.

My eyes were on his hands, his hands that trembled, his hands that were holding the gifts out to me.

I swallowed again, readying myself for what was about to happen when I touched him. I tried to push down the giant swarm of wasps that had formed in my stomach as I reached my equally shaky hands towards his, and as I took the gifts from his hands, I brushed my fingertips against his.