Chapter 47: Physical Change

Outside the orbit of Planet Balthazar, Alaric’s private aircraft hovered just beyond the spaceport’s detection range. No one had noticed it yet; the vessel was operating in full stealth mode. Inside, the chamber was bathed in flashing red lights. Emma, the star network, was sending urgent alert messages to the Emperor’s two most trusted confidants—Brandon and Albert.

Within the tightly sealed chamber, a figure lay motionless on the cold floor. His face was drained of color, and the only sign that he was still alive was the faint rise and fall of his chest.

It was Alaric.

He had exhausted his mental strength reinforcing Gwyn’s fading vitality. Sheer will alone had kept him conscious as he struggled to maintain the fragile link, filtering his own mental force and delicately channeling it toward his mate.

He did not stop until the connection stabilized and the cub was definitively out of danger. The moment it was complete, Alaric collapsed. The instant his body hit the floor, Emma automatically dispatched an emergency signal, transmitting their location exclusively to his two trusted aides.

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Aetheria Palace – Dining Hall

Aslan breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he saw Gwyn wolfing down her food. He had been reluctantly gone for a few hours completing documents and paperwork regarding the gene inheritance and the submission for Gwyn’s newly manifested Gift. They didn’t know what his cub’s Gift was yet, and frankly, he did not care. All he cared about was that the crisis was gone and his cub had passed it safely.

I’ll make sure to kill whoever mated with my cub, he thought, fury still simmering beneath the surface over the unknown mate who had put his daughter in danger.

Aslan moved to Lev’s side, who was busy picking food for Gwyn. He drank in the sight of the vitality that had returned to his lover’s face, his eyes drawn only to the two of them. He didn’t notice the other people in the room until a loud cough broke his focus.

The sound came from Duchess Catherine.

Aslan gave her only a brief glance before disregarding her presence entirely. He still couldn’t forget the reason his daughter had been put in danger; it was because of this bold woman that he had almost lost his cub. If she had not provoked Lev, his cub wouldn’t have been forced to use her Gift so soon.

Although the initial action was entirely Gwyneth’s choice, Aslan would not blame his cub for anything. He would shift the responsibility to whoever irked or upset his daughter, no matter how small their offense was.

Duchess Catherine watched in stunned silence as the family of three continued their display of affection. Her eye twitched as she was utterly ignored. This was the first time anyone had dared disregard her so openly—while flaunting such intimacy.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Gwyneth suddenly stopped eating and pushed her plate away.

“I’m done,” she announced.

Before anyone could react, she slid off her custom-made chair and bolted from the dining room.

The three adults froze.

Catherine felt nothing unusual; this was typical cub behavior to her. But Aslan and Lev knew better. Gwyn never left without saying goodbye.

They exchanged a look. No words were needed.

Gwyneth moved like a blur, unaware of how fast she was going. She had one goal: retrieve her gift before her parents finished eating.

She had forgotten to give it to them due to the arrival of the Elders and the unexpected emergency. Before something else happened, she decided she should give them her present now.

Her expression showed far more excitement than when she was told she had some kind of magical gift. This was only her second time carving for someone. The first time had been meant for the dean of the orphanage, but the dean died before Gwyneth could present it.

Now, there was someone willing to be called her family, and she was giddy at the thought that she finally had someone to give a gift to.

She reached her workroom without panting and flung the door open. At the center of the table sat a large wooden carving, nearly the size of a giant head.

It depicted three figures: a massive winged lion, unmistakably Aslan’s beast form, shielding two human figures—Lev and Gwyneth herself.

She traced the details with gentle fingers, smiling faintly before frowning.

How am I going to carry this?

She pushed it experimentally—and it moved.

Her eyes widened.

She lifted it with surprising ease, confusion flickering briefly before she dismissed it. Hugging the carving close, she marched back toward the dining room.

On the way, some of the palace staff, amazed by the wooden sculpture, wanted to help her carry it, but she refused every offer, walking with steady, fast steps back to the dining room.

The three people were deep in serious conversation when the door suddenly opened. When they looked back, they saw a cub carrying a rather large wooden piece that almost covered her entire upper body.

Aslan immediately stood up and moved to help his cub. However, the sight of the wooden sculpture she carried hit him like a physical blow. His mind went blank with shock as he stared at the detailed figures, wondering where she could have possibly found a carving so meaningful.

Lev and Catherine were equally stunned, their eyes locked on the sculpture Gwyneth carried so easily.

Gwyneth stopped beside Lev and raised the carving so it could be placed on the table. Aslan snapped out of his shock and rushed forward to help.

Once it was set down properly, Gwyneth looked up at her parents. Their gazes moved between her and the carving, confusion clear.

“Gift,” she announced, shy but proud, her chin lifted.

Lev’s hand flew to his mouth as he stifled a sound. He stretched out a trembling hand and gently traced the carving, starting with the small figure, then the wings.

Aslan reached out too, hesitant, as if afraid the sculpture would break.

They both looked at her.

“I made it.”

A sharp gasp echoed from the room, coming from the forgotten Duchess, who moved closer to get a better look at the sculpture. Clear envy and jealousy were written all over her face.

“Your cub is a genius,” she exclaimed, regret coloring her voice.

Aslan swept Gwyneth into his arms and kissed her cheek loudly, laughing. Lev’s vision blurred as tears welled, but he didn’t blink; he simply watched the two people he loved most.

Duchess Catherine couldn’t help the sadness that suddenly took over her. A hollow ache settled in her chest as she watched them laugh—a familiar, crushing emptiness she knew too well.

She watched Gwyneth intently as the cub shyly accepted her parents’ kisses, wistfully thinking what it would feel like to have a cub of her own.

Her gaze lingered—and then narrowed.

Were the tips of her ears… sharper than before?