What Happens At The Ending Of The White Castle?

Traci has spent years being treated like she's nothing. Beaten, overworked, despised by the very pack she calls home. Survival stopped being a goal a long time ago. It became the only thing. The annual warrior tournament is coming. Packs across the kingdom are sharpening blades and sharpening rivalries, all chasing power, status, a name worth something. Tensions are already running high. Zayden and Raiden took the throne at sixteen. Their parents died suddenly and the kingdom fell to two boys who had no business ruling yet. They figured it out. Now everyone fears them. But the elders and the kingdom alike keep pushing the same message: find your fated mate, produce an heir, do it before your enemies smell blood. The twin Alpha Kings are strong. That doesn't mean they're untouchable. When Traci finds out there's a plan in motion to have her killed, she doesn't get a choice about the tournament anymore. She's being pushed into an arena by people who expect her to die in it. What they don't know is who she actually is. Secrets have a way of coming out. Hidden enemies have a way of stepping into the light. The kingdom is about to find out the truth about a bloodline everyone assumed was gone. The last White Wolf doesn't stay hidden forever.

Mercedes Underwood is a lost girl. Lost from her world and herself. She grew up with abusive parents and had a really shitty childhood. Sometimes she believed that they were not her parents much less rassemblements between her and them. When she turned 18 years old, her parents attempt to sell her off to some bad people to pay off their debt. That did not come as a surprise that they would do such a thing and there was no love lost there. But what came as a surprise was when she woke up naked the next morning, walls splattered with blood and four people ripped to shreds. Life went from bad to bloody worse for Mercedes. It was like waking up in a horror scene. She was petrified and confused, nothing made sense but what did make sense was for her to pick up what she can and run. Felix Ransom is the Alpha of the White Claw pack. He leads his pack with an iron fist and ensures everyone's safety and makes sure the pack thrives. But something is missing. The gentle touch of a Luna. Felix is already 25 years old and has not found the one the Moon Goddess chose for him. His other half and mate. Each day without the one for him made his hope of ever finding her wither away. At a point, he even thought that she might have died. It never occurred to him that his made would come right to him much less be a human who is a fugitive for murdering 4 people. Or was she a human being after all?

Being the first born of her parent’s Lilith never got that attention and love from her parents because they wanted boy and not a girl, and hence she was not respected in her school as well, despite being the Alpha blood, but it gets worse for her when at the age of sixteen her wolf appears but she couldn’t shift. Member of her pack assumed that she is a weak wolf and an insult for the pack, hence bullying starts for her because her own parents felt disgust from her. She did not lose the hope and waited impatiently for her mate, until one day the Alpha of Creek Star pack was invited to the dinner by her father and she found out that none other than Caleb Donovan is her mate but her heart breaks down when she finds out why he accepted her as his mate.

Part of the Solar Eclipse Pack, losing both parent's at a young age. She was forced to become a slave to the pack that destroyed hers. She was treated like she was nothing but a rogue who deserved nothing, she was constantly beaten and bullied but will that change when she turns 18.

Aurelia, an ordinary human finds herself trapped in a completely different world when she is mated with the King of the Werewolf race, King Alpha Asher Zane. Asher tries to fight the mate bond which compels him to make her his. But how can the Moon Goddess choose a human to be the Queen of the Werewolves? While Aurelia struggles to help Asher with his problems the truth about her past gradually unravels.

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.