Chapter 28

“Do you know what it means to be the mother of the Alpha King’s royal heirs?” Wolfe’s voice thundered, his growl shaking the air. “It means you are the Luna Queen. And how dare you, Lois, try to use the sextuplets for your own ambition?”

His words struck sharp and cruel, each syllable dragging Lois back into the shadows of every lie Sandra had ever painted her with. His tone carried the same venom the world spat at her—Lois, the jealous murderer, the woman who tried to kill her stepsister, the Alpha King’s mate.

“And even if the royal concubine births a prince,” Wolfe continued, his jaw tight, “that prince is not hers but the Luna Queen’s. He would grow to call the Luna Queen his mother. And you, Lois Marrok, a common breeder, a sinner drenched in disgrace, dare to covet that throne?”

Lois’s lips curled into a bitter sneer. Her voice cut the silence like a blade. “It is not ambition, Wolfe. It is mine. What name was written on the olden invitation you brought to my father’s mansion years ago? Mine. But you claimed my stepsister as your mate instead.”

Alpha Karl’s lips twitched into a mocking grin. His eyes burned with a cruel memory. “So it’s true then—you’re still that jealous wench who wanted me for herself, instead of my fated mate. All I ever wanted was a life of my own choosing, not the one my father shoved down my throat with ink and parchment. Not some arranged fate written in ink.”

Lois’s chest heaved, but his next words stabbed her deeper.

“And that is why you tried to stab Sandra Banes to death? Your own sister? How heartless can you be? She lived under the same roof as you, shared the same air, yet you viciously struck her until she lost her womb! And now you want me to acquit you? Release you of your sins? You vile, evil wench! How could the Moon Goddess bless you—of all women—with my sextuplets?”

Alpha Karl’s roar shook the walls. His voice was a storm, baritonous and violent, reverberating until Lois’s body quivered under its force. Her pulse raced, her breath shallow—she wanted to scream the truth, to claw the lies from his heart, but there was no evidence, no proof, nothing that could erase the scar Sandra’s story had carved into him.

Her throat burned, but she still forced her words through the suffocating air. “And lastly,” Lois said, her voice trembling but unyielding, “I am not your chattel. Not your property. Not your sex slave. I will not be your thing.”

She bent slightly, a graceful defiance in her bow, gathering her box with trembling fingers. She turned, willing her legs to move her toward the door. Wolfe stepped forward to stop her, but Karl’s eyes flicked sharply—a private command Lois didn’t understand. Wolfe froze, then stepped aside, allowing her to pass.

The moment Lois crossed the threshold, a violent breath ripped from her chest, her palm pressing against her heart. It thundered as if it would burst from her ribs. All these years she had been running from him, hiding from him, drowning in fear of him. And now, face-to-face, he had done nothing—nothing—because of her children.

Her lips trembled as thoughts spiraled. What could he be thinking? There is no way he’ll consider my conditions. What madness possessed me to speak so brazenly to the Alpha King of Great Hale?

She cast one last glance back at the residence. The guards stood, unmoving, watching. She could feel Karl’s invisible eyes on her even now, like chains at her ankles. She knew if she tried to flee again with the sextuplets, this time there would be no saving grace, no allies, no sacrifices that could set her free. He had locked his gaze upon her, and she was trapped.

But there was one anchor, one reason her heart beat against all fear. My babies.

“It’s late…” Lois gasped, clutching her skirts as she hurried. “I haven’t gotten back to pick Cera, Conan, and Ciri. Brave Cirila will surely lead them home, but I must see them—make sure—” Her whisper bled into a cry as she quickened her steps out of the palace walls.

“What should we do, Your Majesty?” Wolfe asked, his tone sharp but laced with concern.

Karl’s jaw was firm, his gaze never leaving the door Lois had exited. “Four of my finest guards will trail her. Protect her residence with utmost vigilance. But she must never know of it. Not a whisper.”

Wolfe bowed low. “But, my King… they are the royal heirs of Great Hale. They cannot remain in that demeaning neighborhood any longer. We should take them at once—”

Karl’s voice cut him off, low but immovable. “I will not risk losing their trust. Not now.”

Wolfe swallowed, bowed deeper, and left to carry the King’s command.

Lois arrived home, her chest aching from the run. And before she could even knock, the door burst open and six small figures rushed out.

“Welcome back, Mother!” they chorused, their voices ringing like bells as they tackled her in a storm of hugs.

Her knees buckled, her arms wrapped desperately around them. Tears welled and spilled freely from her eyes. “My babies…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

The sextuplets froze, staring wide-eyed. “Mother? You’re… crying?”

“What’s wrong, Mother?”

They had never seen her cry before. To them, adults didn’t cry—especially not their mother. It was foreign, frightening.

“Who hurt you, Mom? Tell us! I’ll burn them to ashes with my chaos!” Ciri snarled, her tiny fists clenched.

“I’ll slash their throat with my blade!” Coen hissed, his jaw tight.

“I’ll shoot an arrow straight into their skull!” Conall declared fiercely, puffing his chest.

A laugh cracked from Lois’s lips through the tears. She quickly wiped her cheeks, forcing a smile. “No, no, my loves. No one hurt me. I was just… overwhelmed. Overjoyed to be here with you, my brave protectors.” She kissed their foreheads and pulled them close, holding on as though she would never let go.

But as their warmth filled her, the weight of everything she had endured came crashing back. She sniffled, pressing her face into their hair.

“Dinner is ready!” Jacinta’s cheerful voice called from inside.

Lois reluctantly released her children, smiling through the mist in her eyes. For the first time in years, she felt safe—not because of walls or guards, but because of them. Her little protectors.

They ate together, laughter and stories filling the small room. Cera, Conan, and Ciri eagerly shared their tales from the Arcane Academy—controlling leaves with their minds, lifting heavy rocks, feats that left Lois in awe.

“The teacher was so surprised!” little Cera giggled, her eyes bright.

“They couldn’t believe their eyes!” Ciri added proudly, and the table erupted in laughter.

Conall leaned forward, excitement lighting his face. “And today, we met a very skilled uncle at the palace! He taught me how to shoot arrows properly—and I hit the bullseye!”

Jacinta choked on her food, her face paling. “What? An… uncle? At the palace? How did you get into the palace? Who is this man?”

Lois froze, her spoon slipping from her hand. Her eyes widened, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.