로그인I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, embarrassed by the tears that had escaped despite my best efforts to contain them. The whipping was ancient history, a pain I’d buried beneath layers of newer memories, yet speaking it aloud in this room, before these elders who claimed to have smuggled me to safety as a child, made it fresh again. I took a steadying breath, forcing myself past that old wound to the question that had been burning inside me since Sera first called me Amala Luna Velasco.“So do you know my actual parents?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. “My birth parents?”Orion and Alara exchanged a glance loaded with meaning I couldn’t decipher. Something passed between them, a silent communication born of decades together, perhaps, before Orion turned back to me with gentle eyes.“Really, child, we are your parents.”I froze, the words not making sense at first. “What do you mean, ‘really’?”Alara leaned forward, her unusual violet eyes holdi
I watched Amelia’s face as she absorbed what the elders were telling her, catching every subtle shift in her expression, the widening of her eyes, the tightness around her mouth, the slight furrow between her brows.My mate had always been skilled at maintaining a mask of calm, but I’d learned to read the emotions she tried to hide. Right now, beneath her careful composure, she was reeling. The revelation that she truly was Amala Luna Velasco, the subject of prophecy, smuggled away as a child, had shaken her in ways even the Voice’s mental invasion hadn’t managed to do. I squeezed her hand beneath the table, letting her feel my presence, my support.Amelia’s fingers tightened around mine, her knuckles white with pressure. When she spoke, her voice was steady despite the storm I could feel brewing within her.“So... why did I shift late?” she asked, her emerald eyes fixed on Alara’s violet ones. “If I’m this prophesied copper wolf, why didn’t I shift until I was eighteen?
The corridor stretched before us like a familiar dream as Lukas supported me with a steady arm. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else, wobbly and uncertain after fourteen hours of unconsciousness. The simple act of walking from the medical wing to our bedroom required more concentration than it should have, but I refused to be carried. Whatever revelations awaited me about my past, about Amala Luna Velasco, I would face them standing on my own two feet, not cradled in my mate’s arms like a child.“You’re stubborn,” Lukas murmured, his voice warm against my hair.I managed a tired smile. “You’re just figuring this out now?”His chuckle vibrated through the arm supporting me, the sound more comforting than he could possibly know. After being trapped in Sera’s nightmare visions, hearing Lukas laugh felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.Our bedroom door stood open when we reached it, someone having anticipated our arrival. Inside, fresh clothes had
I clawed my way back to consciousness like a drowning woman fighting for air, the memory of blood and Sera’s whispered threats still echoing in my mind. The first sensation was pain, a dull throb behind my eyes, a rawness in my throat as if I’d been screaming.Light pierced my eyelids, too bright, too harsh after the darkness I’d been swimming in. I tried to raise my hand to shield my face, only to feel resistance, restraints, I realised with a flash of panic before memory returned. Hospital. Safety. Elara had ordered these to protect me. From myself. From the Voice that had nearly turned me into their puppet.“Easy now,” came a soothing voice, Elara, her clinical tone softened by genuine concern. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly fourteen hours, My Queen.”I forced my eyes open fully, blinking against the brightness until her face came into focus, lined with fatigue, amber eyes watchful as she checked the monitor beside my bed. “Sera,” I rasped, my voice barely a whis
I released Amelia’s cold hand with reluctance, my eyes lingering on her still form. Twelve hours since she’d retreated into herself, twelve hours of watching her chest rise and fall with mechanical precision, her mind far beyond my reach. The restraints around her wrists had left faint marks on her skin, a necessary precaution that felt increasingly like betrayal with each passing hour. I pressed my lips to her forehead, breathing in the fading scent of her shampoo beneath the antiseptic hospital smell.“I need to meet with the Elders,” I murmured against her skin, though I knew she couldn’t hear me. “I’ll be back soon.”Elara cleared her throat softly behind me. “My King, you need rest as much as information. You’ve been at her bedside for over twenty-four hours now.”I straightened, turning to face the doctor. Exhaustion had carved new lines into her face, yet her amber eyes remained sharp, assessing. “I’ll rest when this is over. When she’s back.”“You’ll be no go
I woke to the feel of a hand on my shoulder, the touch firm but gentle. My neck ached from the awkward angle, head resting on Amelia’s hand, back curved painfully in the chair I’d occupied all night. I lifted my head with a wince, blinking against the harsh light of mid-morning streaming through the windows. Dominic stood over me, his scarred face carefully neutral though I caught the concern in his eyes. Beside him, Nico waited by the door, his posture alert despite the shadows beneath his eyes that matched my own.“Sorry to wake you, my King,” Dominic said quietly. “But we thought you‘d want these updates immediately.”I glanced at the clock on the wall; 9:47am. I’d been asleep for less than two hours, but it felt like I‘d been run over by a truck. Every muscle protested as I straightened, stretching my back to relieve the stiffness. Amelia lay still beside me, her copper hair spread across the pillow, the restraints around her wrists a constant reminder of the threat hang
I savoured the silence of our private chambers, a rare reprieve from the constant vigilance required since the rogue attacks. Amelia sat across from me, copper curls loose around her shoulders, the candlelight casting golden highlights across her skin. This, these private moments behind closed do
I hit the training mat hard enough to knock the air from my lungs, a familiar pain after three days of Nico throwing me around the royal gym. Sweat plastered my copper hair to my forehead and neck, my muscles screaming in protest as I forced myself to stand again. Athena growled her approval with
I stretched languidly in our bed, the morning sun filtering through the gauzy curtains and painting golden patterns across the silk sheets. Three months had passed since the wolf moon attack - three months of heightened security, interrogations, and an uneasy peace that felt more like the stillness
The palace halls echoed with our footsteps as we made our way to our chambers, the celebration turned bloodbath still clinging to our skin. I could feel dried blood cracking in the creases of my palms, beneath my fingernails, in the hollow of my throat. The copper scent followed us like a ghost—b







