Ch. 62

Theo rolled onto his side, the large, ornate bed creaking beneath him. The soft furs and silken sheets that once seemed luxurious now felt cold and empty. The moonlight filtered through the thick curtains, casting long shadows across the room. Despite the wealth and power that came with being the new werewolf king, the room seemed desolate, void of the warmth he longed for.

Jolene. Her name echoed in his thoughts, a melody he couldn’t shake. Her voice, her laughter, her touch—each memory cut deeper than the claws he bore as a werewolf. She was the one thing he desired more than the throne. But she was slipping away, like a dream at dawn. He imagined her with Apollo, the sun god. A radiant, powerful deity with a charm that could light up a room, just like the sun he commanded. The idea of Jolene with someone else made Theo’s heart ache.

He rose from the bed and walked to the balcony, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat burning inside him. Below, the werewolf clan was alive