Xyra Lumina Crescent, first born child to two full-blooded alphas and an alpha female. Xyra is hidden away from her pack, from the outside world and even from herself as she has no idea why she cannot shift or why she is hidden away in a temple to train, train and train. Far away from her family and younger siblings, Xyra sought freedom and to be able to be with her family. But she is trapped and watched by the ladies of the temple of females.

   A vision of an attack on her pack force Xyra to break free in other to save her parents who would die in the attack, and her people who would be taken hostage. Xyra returns home, but she does not just get the easy life she thought she would get. She discovers that maybe staying at the temple where life was easy was better after all.

Who is Xyra? And what is The Last Daughter?




____






   ‘What will happen if he finds his mate and she dies?’ I asked the most obvious question. Dad's wolf gave mine a look.

   ‘Xyra, did you see anything?’

   ‘Yes, not clear, but a strong enough warning. He's going to run mad, isn't he?’

   ‘All lycans do when they lose their mates. Which is why the goddess restrain from giving them one.’

   Which was true. With how easy they lost their minds after losing their erasthasis, it was best they didn't have one. No one wanted a powerful lycan to go wild and wipe out an entire population, just because their soulmate died. It indeed was why they didn't get one too often. In fact, one could stay for a thousand years and not hear of a lycan finding a mate. They usually just fall in love and get married or get married without love. The king was the strongest like I read. If him losing his mate would turn him against the entire population of living creatures, then maybe it is my duty to protect her.

Maybe, just maybe this is what I am meant to do.

The Last Daughter

 She hummed softly as she tapped her foot on air, hands lazily rested on the arms of the black chair she sat on. The black leather matched her hair, just like it matched her long nails and flowing gown. Her lips were smeared with black lipstick, just as thick as the mascara that brushed her short lashes up. Her nails continuously drummed on the leather chair, just as both shoed feet tapped on the floorboard and air. 


 A small smile spread on her face as she heard the footsteps of her trusted assistants. She knew what they were rushing over to tell her, way before they even knew what was happening. The moment it happened, she knew. It was her job after all to keep an eye on him. 


The bet