Chapter 43: The price of the gift

“She is—?!” Duchess Catherine snapped, the disbelief draining the excitement from her voice as she focused sharply on the cub's face. Noticing the faint crescent mark near her temple, still glowing with green light, the Duchess’s eyes turned dangerously cold.

“And you two allowed this to happen?” Her voice became a low, cutting hiss, carrying the menace of a predator whose young had been attacked in her absence. A sudden, visceral wave of frost seemed to radiate from her, making the air drop.

Lev and Aslan visibly stiffened, their faces hardening into identical masks of grim guilt and readiness. They accepted the admonishment without resistance. They still had not found the person who had dared to mate with their young daughter. Worse, they had no answers—no clue about the parents or whoever had neglected, nearly killed, and eventually abandoned the child in their garden.

Lev reached out to take Gwyn into his arms, hugging her tightly. Her face shifted into confusion at the mention of the word “mate.” She barely recalled the constant magical disturbances inside her; her mind had been focused on carving and preparing gifts. Even now, she felt that raw force flowing through her body, ready to respond to her slightest thought.

“Don’t you two know the consequences of being mated, especially for a cub this young?” Duchess Catherine continued, her expression growing more livid by the second.

“I also heard your cub is a pure human? With no trace of gene injections or modification?” Marquess Maxxwell cut in calmly, his tone seeking confirmation as he looked at the parents, whose faces darkened further.

“WHAT?!” Duchess Catherine roared, the disbelief bursting into a shockwave that nearly split the air. A pair of enormous white wings erupted from her back with blinding force, sending the crystal shards on the floor skittering.

She lunged toward the stunned family of three, her overwhelming presence sucking the warmth from the room.

Aslan immediately stepped in front of Lev and Gwyn, taking a wide, defensive stance. His own massive wings unfurled behind him, forming a magnificent barrier that swallowed the light. His eyes, now slitted and blazing with savage protectiveness, locked onto the Duchess in a clear, silent snarl of warning.

“Step back, Duchess,” he growled, stripped of any trace of politeness.

“Heh. You two are unfit for this child. Don’t you know how dangerous it is for her to use her gift when she’s purely human and hasn’t undergone gene inheritance?” she shot back, ignoring the threat in his voice.

“And who’s fit? You, Duchess?” another voice cut in coldly—Lev, still holding Gwyn tightly. His usually calm gaze had sharpened to a razor’s edge.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue, Lev. At least I wouldn’t have let this happen.”

Meanwhile, Gwyneth couldn’t follow any of the harsh words. All she understood was that her parents were about to fight the terrifying woman in front of them. So, like her protectors, she mirrored their fierce expressions and glared at the Duchess.

Coincidentally, Duchess Catherine caught the cub’s attempt at a menacing look. She found the tiny glare so unexpectedly funny that her fury evaporated. A sudden laugh burst out of her, sharp and surprised.

“It looks like the cub still likes you, despite what you let her go through,” she managed between laughs, watching Gwyn with softened eyes and an unmistakable hint of longing.

“If not for the Emperor’s strict instructions, I would have taken the babe from you two,” she added, glancing toward Aslan.

“If I had known she would be this cute, I should’ve claimed her at the assembly. What a pity.” She recalled the capital’s assembly, where she had refused to take a side and simply watched the dignitaries compete to adopt the cub.

Now, regret gnawed at her. She realized she could have been the mother of the babe—this pure human child who would guarantee her lineage and elevate her House.

She drew in a deep breath, retracting her wings as her gaze sharpened again.

“I assume you still don’t know who she mated with?”

Aslan looked at Lev, then at the Duchess, offering no answer and refusing to lower his wings.

Deep inside Gwyn’s chest, a strange pressure built. Not pain, but a coil of thick energy winding too tightly. Warmth pulsed beneath her skin, making her fingertips tingle. It felt like an unseen force was straining to burst free.

“Did anyone approach the child, other than you and your personnel?” Duchess Catherine asked, snapping Gwyn back to the moment and cutting through the sensation.

“There was none,” Lev replied firmly.

“Impossible! The mate mark can’t appear without contact. Only a Fenrir can claim their fated mate that way—”

“The Emperor is already meant to mate with my twins. Don’t bring Your majesty into this,” a cold voice interrupted. Marquess Maxxwell, who had been silent until now, spoke with icy disapproval.

Duchess Catherine turned to him with a mocking smile.

“Says who? You people from House Maxxwell are truly delusional.”

A faint crease appeared on Maxxwell’s forehead before smoothing away. He ignored the insult, returning his attention to the small family watching them warily.

“We should continue with our purpose here. Have you prepared for the gene inheritance ceremony?”

“Yes,” Aslan answered shortly.

Maxxwell nodded once, glanced at Gwyn, and continued.

“We will proceed tomorrow. As soon as it’s done and she stabilizes, report back to the capital.” He paused, his tone darkening. “We can’t let an undocumented Gift remain hidden—”

“GWYN!” Lev’s panic-stricken shout cut him off. In his arms, Gwyn suddenly convulsed, her eyes rolling back as violent tremors seized her small body.

Chaos erupted. Everyone darted toward Lev.

Duchess Catherine spotted a faint, web-like crack forming on Gwyn’s arm and spreading rapidly. Her expression turned grim. Lifting the cub’s skirt slightly, she found the same crack-like lines on her legs.

Seeing it Lev nearly fell to his knees. Aslan held both father and daughter upright, his own fear visible but his actions steady as he sent alerts through his communicator.

“There’s no time. She needs to undergo gene inheritance now!” Duchess Catherine’s sharp call left no room for hesitation.

“What’s wrong with my daughter?” Lev demanded, his face pale and desperate.

“She’s suffering from Core Overload,” Duchess Catherine said. She pointed to the lines crawling across Gwyn’s skin. “Her body can’t contain her Gift. The mate bond already triggered her power, but without gene inheritance, she can’t handle the energy.”

She leaned forward, intending to take Gwyn, but Aslan stepped in, consolidating Lev and Gwyn securely into his massive arms.

Duchess Catherine didn’t protest. “The outburst she displayed earlier was too much. She drew far more energy from her Core than her small frame can sustain. Her Gift is attacking her from the inside, tearing herself apart.”

She met Lev’s terrified eyes. “If we don’t stabilize her immediately with a complete shifter lineage—your lineage—the overload will become permanent. She will die.”

Aslan, his face controlled and lethal, clutched Lev and their daughter. “Lev, we have to move.”