LOGINKing Atticus and Queen Anne stood on the high stone balcony, flanked by former King Arthur, Princess Jass, and her mate, the retired Chief Warrior Walther. From their elevated vantage point, they looked down at the courtyard, watching the swirling colors and hearing the raucous laughter of the pack's youth. To the teenagers below, it was the party of the century. To the Royals above, it was a vigil. They all knew Zara was vibrating with anticipation, her eyes constantly darting toward the Palace gates in search of Petric. But the mood on the balcony was somber. Royal Intelligence had been scouring the territories for weeks, and they hadn't found so much as a stray scent or footprint of the lost future Alpha of Blue Moon. There was zero indication that Petric was anywhere near the Kingdom. “Atticus, you and Arthur need to be ready to catch her when the clock strikes twelve and Petric is still a no-show. She’s built a godda
The Luna tilted her head, her expression unreadable. She gave a nod that felt more like a physical reflex than a sign of agreement, it lacked any real conviction. A cold, sharp gust of wind swept across the tarmac, catching her hair and whipping it across her face like a lash. She didn’t blink. She didn't even flinch. “It’s a possibility,” she answered slowly, her words meticulously neutral, though her eyes remained as hard and unforgiving as flint. "But remember, Zara, hope can be a beautiful thing, or it can be the very thing that bleeds you dry. Don't let a fantasy blind you to the reality standing right in front of you." Zara absorbed the words as though they had landed like a punch. That 'possibility' felt like a hollow bone tossed to a starving dog. For a fleeting second, the mask of the doting, affectionate Auntie slipped, revealing the cold-blooded strategist hidden underneath the silk and perfume
Still in Blue Moon … Emile stared intently at Margie, his Alpha instincts screaming a warning that vibrated deep in his chest. Something was wrong, so wrong it made the hairs along his arms prickle. She was too calm, unnervingly so, as if she had rehearsed this moment long before he stepped into the room. It wasn't just the lack of panic, it was the clinical precision of her movements, the way she smoothed her skirt as if they were discussing the weather rather than their missing heir. Margie knew more about their son's disappearance than she let on, he could see it in the way she didn't meet his eyes with the expected spark of shared concern. Mother and son had always been close, as her only pup, she had spoiled Petric immensely. She had been his confidante, his shield against Emile’s stricter expectations, and yet here she was, acting as if he had simply gone on a weekend hiking trip. Yet, Petric had man
“Jace, have you heard anything from Petric yet?” Zara’s soft voice was barely a whisper, yet Beta Jace flinched as if struck. It was the exact same question, posed with the same tightly coiled hope, that she had relentlessly asked him, Luna Margie, or anyone who would listen for the past six months. The answer, inevitably delivered with only a long, sorrowful silence or a slow shake of the head, remained unchanged. And so did the deep, stabbing grief that momentarily extinguished the brilliant Lycan sparkle in her eyes. For a heartbeat, she sat there suspended in that ache, exposed, fighting the familiar sting that never seemed to dull. Her disappointment was honestly the most painful duty for the Alpha couple and the Beta. But the Princess had never been one to let her sorrow spill into the pack’s daily rhythm. With a quiet inhale, she gathered the frayed edges of herself, smoothing her expression into something steadier
Zara stared at the Queen, shocked by the revelation about her auntie Amy, the hidden, sharp sting of prejudice in their own Royal circle. This was the first time they had talked about this kind of bigotry, to Zara, it had never mattered if a wolf was pure blood or mixed. The unsettling thought that there were wolves, friends even, who secretly scorned Petric, felt worse than any outright opposition. Anna noticed the fast-changing expressions on her daughter’s face, first shock, then fierce determination. She needed to ensure her message was clearly understood. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Let me be perfectly clear: If he’s your mate, your father and I accept him completely, without reservation. We will be the first ones to defend your bond,” Anna reiterated, gently rubbing her thumbs over Zara’s knuckles. “We just want you to be happy. That’s all we care about. But you also need to know the challenge you’re accepting. There wil
It was already morning, and when Princess Zara woke up, her mother was still lying next to her. She blinked a few times, trying to place her surroundings. The memory of the last few hours felt completely blank. The silence in the suite wrapped around her, interrupted only by the steady, quiet breathing beside her. She turned her head slowly, her movements stiff and aching, to find Queen Anna still lying on the coverlet, having only slightly adjusted her clothes from the night before. “Mom, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you in your own chambers?”Slowly, Queen Anna opened her eyes. They were heavy with fatigue, the faint lines around them a stark proof to the long, stressful night they had just endured. She looked straight into the blue-gray gaze of her daughter, which now held only bewildered innocence. “You had a nightmare last night, darling,” Anna said softly, her hand instinctively reaching out to brush a stra







