The Lycan Prince's Magical Mate

Angelina POV I saw the world differently from others. As a result, I would often get lost in my artwork to get away. My creations, the only true connection I had, allowed me to shape the world as I saw it, envisioning it through my eyes. Often, I would drift off into dreams, mirroring the visions I had brought to life on paper. The brushstrokes and pencil lines became my gateway to a realm where I found peace and happiness. A world where I was free to be who I truly am and create my own identity. For a long time, I felt like I was insignificant compared to my four siblings. The weight of their great destinies was always known, as my mother had been foretold of their extraordinary paths. Growing up, I was surrounded by this focus, and though my family loved and supported me, I couldn’t shake the feeling being useless. My mother, Amber, is the Queen of the Hybrids in the human realm. She possesses the blessings of both a wolf and a powerful dragon spirit. She has three mates: Erik and Justin, who are werewolves, and Daniel, a pureblood vampire. As for my four older siblings, they are quadruplets, each blessed with an elemental power that makes them extraordinary hybrid beings. Piper, my sister, controls earth, and her mate Kieren is a hybrid demon and witch, gifted with a dark dragon spirit. Luna, my other sister, has command over water and is also entrusted with the duty of protecting the gateway between realms. Her mate, Damien, is a fae and also the King of the light fae kingdom. Then there is my brother Alex, who possesses the power of fire. His mate, Ember, is a tiny pixie and guardian of the fae realm. Lastly, my brother Aaron commands Air, and his mate Ava is a hybrid angel and demon. And then there is me, a hybrid werewolf and vampire. Nothing exceptional, just a mere hybrid. For the past four years, I have resided in the fae realm alongside my siblings, while our parents occasionally visited us from the human realm. I have devoted my time to witnessing the growth of my nieces and nephews, and immersing myself in my artwork. However, something strange happened after my move to the fae realm. I began to sense that my art possessed a hidden message, as if it was trying to give me a message. I conjured magical landscapes that defied the boundaries of this realm. Within my creations, a single figure emerged often - a man. It was as if my hand possessed a will of its own, bringing him to life on canvas and paper. The man always appeared sad. Though he was just a figment of my imagination, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for his lonely existence. Lately, the man has become my sole muse, appearing in my paintings more frequently. His image occupies my thoughts, and I am content with that. Today, on my eighteenth birthday, I set up my art supplies by the palace pond, allowing the gentle rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds to surround me. Nature’s embrace fueled my creativity, as I await my birthday celebration with my siblings and a few friends later today. Yet, I am equally thrilled to indulge in uninterrupted hours dedicated to my artwork. Within moments, I found myself immersed in my work. As my brush glided across the canvas, I recreated a tranquil pond reminiscent of the one I was at. In the distance, a grand palace adorned the horizon. The vibrant hues of the water reflected the soft golden sunlight, casting a mesmerizing glow. But it was the man sitting by the tree in my painting that held my attention. His presence radiated a sense of tranquility and warmth. The way he sat there, resting against a tree, spoke of a peacefulness that I had seldom seen before when I painted him. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, and he found solace in the embrace of nature. I painted every detail of his appearance, cherishing each stroke as if it were a caress. His chestnut hair, tousled by the gentle breeze, seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. The way his shirt hugged his muscular frame ignited a longing deep within me. Every brushstroke brought out his features, emphasizing the depth of his eyes and the curve of his lips. Lost in the world of my creation, I wished for the opportunity to step into the painting and embrace this dreamy man. After several hours of painting, I took a much-needed break and leaned against a sturdy tree, its rough bark pressing against my back. I closed my eyes, reveling in the moment's tranquility. The soft whispers of my wolf companion, Sable, filled my mind, urging me to meet the mysterious man from my paintings. As I drifted off into a peaceful slumber, the symphony of nature surrounded me. _______ A sudden cold breeze cut through the air, jolting me awake. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the darkened sky above. A pang of worry for my siblings struck me - they must be concerned about my prolonged absence. Focusing my thoughts on connecting with them, I strained to form a telepathic link, but it was no use. Confusion washed over me as I surveyed my surroundings. Something was different. I gazed at the nearby pond, noticing its subtle changes. And as I rose to my feet, my gaze was drawn to a breathtaking sight - a magnificent palace, different from the Light Fae kingdom, but the same as my painting. “This must be a dream,” I murmured to myself, attempting to dismiss the surrealness of the situation. But Sable’s voice echoed in my mind, dispelling my doubts. “No, Angelina, we are awake. Something has happened while we slept. Look at your painting,” she urged. With a mix of fear and curiosity, I approached my easel, my eyes fixated on the canvas. And there it was - my painting transformed. It now depicted me, sleeping against a tree, near the serene pond, within the Light Fae kingdom instead of the strange man in the world, unlike mine. As my eyes scanned the area, I saw a familiar tree. It was the exact tree that I had painted earlier. As I approached, a faint but alluring scent of vanilla and lavender filled the air. “Mate was here,” my wolf howled in my mind. Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the distance, causing me to run and seek refuge behind a cluster of towering trees. The scent grew stronger, and soon, a man emerged into my view. My breath caught, and my heart raced with anticipation as I observed the man, the same one I had brought to life through my paintings. He picked up the book from the ground, and then he paused, his expression suggesting that he was sniffing the air. “He’s our mate, Angelina,’ Sable howled with excitement in my mind. The dreamy guy from our painting was real. “I don’t take kindly to those hiding,” the man spoke in a commanding tone. I stepped out of my hiding spot. As his piercing gaze landed on me, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease, as if I were an object on display. Yet, deep within me, my wolf remained confident that he would not inflict harm upon us. “Who are you?” he questioned, his voice laced with curiosity. “Angelina, and I’m lost. I doubt you will believe me, but I think I’m in my painting.” “Painting? You expect me to believe that?” he scoffed, taking a step closer. I knew he must have sensed we were destined to be mates. But the question remained, was this encounter a reality or a mere figment of my imagination? “Where are you from?” he questioned. “I live in the light fae kingdom.” I responded. “So the fae realm... How the hell did you end up here?” he asked, his voice echoing through the stillness. I took a moment to observe my surroundings, searching for anything familiar. I tried to make sense of it all, trying to find a shred of familiarity. “I can’t answer that,” I replied, my voice tinged with confusion. “I was taking a break from painting and drifted off to sleep, and when I woke, I was here instead of my home. Although this pond is almost identical.” My words hung in the air, as if searching for an explanation. A sudden realization struck me, and I blurted out, “Did Ember, Alex’s mate, put me in an illusion as some birthday prank? She was the master of illusions. That had to be it. I looked at the man, hoping for confirmation, but he wore a look of confusion. “Illusion?” he questioned. The weight of the situation crashed down on me, and I took a step back, feeling the ground shift beneath my feet. The possibility that this was all real, that I was separated from my family, sent my heart racing. “We may be separated, but our mate is here,” my wolf tried to soothe me, but panic consumed me. I hyperventilated, unable to handle the overwhelming stress. The man reached out, placing his hands on me, and a wave of warmth spread through my body. It was a comforting, pleasurable sensation. “Take deep breaths and calm down,” he instructed, his voice steady. But how could I calm down? I was in a strange place, with the dreamy guy I had painted countless times, who now turned out to be my mate. The world around me spun, my vision blurred, and darkness took over as I passed out.