Walther stepped back into the Royal living room, running a heavy hand through his hair. The sound of the door closing behind him was a solid finality. He knew the King and the Princess would not retire to their private quarters until this immediate crisis, the Crown Prince return, his illegal human mate, and his obsessive pursuit of a vengeful she-wolf, had been thoroughly analyzed. He settled into a leather armchair directly across from the Royal siblings. Cleo, the deputy Chief Warrior, positioned himself against the wall behind Walther, maintaining a posture of alert silence. “Your Majesty, congratulations on the successful recovery of your sister and your nephew,” Walther began flat and professional. He immediately pivoted to the cost of the victory. “However, this achievement comes with significant complications regarding the line of succession. Atticus’s mate situation is now the prim
The immense, world-shifting revelation that Atticus was the Crown Prince, the King’s nephew and the true heir, had reduced the room to a stunned silence. Atticus was still struggling to process the monumental shift in his identity. Then, a sudden, high-pitched voice sliced through the charged air. “So that makes me a real Princess too!” All heads snapped toward the back of the room. Atticus and the Lycans had completely discounted Farah, who had been standing silently near the entrance, trying to make sense of the high-stakes conversation. She now stepped forward, her face alight with an almost manic euphoria, her eyes shining with sudden, impossible happiness. “Are you all real, actual werewolves?” she asked, a wide, excited smile splitting her face. She had processed the astonishing story, the lost Princess, the memory returning, the Crown P
Atticus moved with long strides, following Chief Warrior Walther down the vast, marble-clad corridor of the Royal Palace. The honor guard reception and the waving crowds outside had solidified Atticus’s suspicion: this was a calculated political maneuver, not merely a summons. He expected to find King Arthur primed for a lecture, demanding immediate, humiliating submission. As Walther led them into a grand, sunlit sitting room, Atticus stopped abruptly. The sight before him defied every expectation. King Arthur was seated on a sofa, but he was not alone. His mother, sat beside him, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Both turned toward him and smiled broadly. The King’s face, which Atticus had only ever seen set in lines of cold fury or political cunning, was softened by genuine warmth. This was not the scene for a prisoner’s interrogation. “Mother!” Atticus roare
Alpha Atticus sat alone in his study, waiting for the connection with his Beta to stabilize. The villa was a fortress of reinforced concrete and glass, situated on a secluded beachfront estate on the island of Barbados. He frowned at the buffering screen, the satellite uplink was frustratingly slow. The relentless search for Anna, who remained elusive, had completely worn down his patience. He needed to coordinate with Jax, and he needed it now. Privacy here was total. The area was protected by several layers of guards and technology, and the closest neighbors were far away, hidden behind thick, untouched land. It was a secure place for the elite, where unauthorized entry was theoretically impossible. It was this expectation of total security that made the sudden, violent banging on his front door so jarring. It wasn’t a polite ring or a tentative tap, it was a loud, aggressive pounding that resonated through the
Overwhelmed by an explosive rush of pure joy, the King dragged his sister into a crushing, desperate embrace. The carefully constructed mask of the monarch, the toll of two decades of rule, shattered instantly. Pure, agonizing sobs tore from his chest, and thick, unrestrained tears cut hot tracks down his face. His throat seized up, stifling the words that desperately fought to escape. “Jass! I cannot believe you are real!” Arthur’s voice was a ragged whisper against her hair. “For years I searched, sister. Where did you go? Why did you stay away? The heart of this Kingdom felt empty the moment we realized you were lost without a trace.” The Princess also could barely stand against the torrent of his emotion. She rested her head directly over his heart, an old gesture from childhood when she needed safety. Arthur’s large hands closed around her back like steel claws, anchori
Walther leaned forward, his voice barely audible over the immense vibration. “You have been hiding in the interior of the continent. How did Harry bring you and Atticus across the territories without anyone raising an alarm?” Jass closed her eyes, trying to conjure the blank space of her memory. “I... I have no direct recall. Harry told me we traveled at night, under the deep forest canopy. He used an ancient, rarely traveled path that cuts through the abandoned mining regions. He said he kept me heavily sedated, convincing local patrols I was suffering from a high fever. It took weeks. He risked everything, knew what the rebels would do if they found me.” Walther whistled softly, a sound of respect. “The man possessed extraordinary nerve. He risked the wrath of the Crown to shelter the Crown.” As the helicopter climbed and banked, the land below transformed into the expansive, rugged tapes