Chapter 4: We Must Not Lose Her To Them This Time

The room felt too small.

Calen had been pacing for the better part of an hour, his restless energy filling the space like a physical thing. His feet tracked the same path over and over: from the window to the chair, from the chair to the table, then back to the window. Looking out. As if he could see her from here. As if proximity alone would be enough.

His hand kept going to his chest, pressing against the place where his heart lived. Where the bond lived. Where she lived, apparently, after 120 years of waiting.

"Can you stop moving for a minute?" Sebastian's voice cut through the silence. The youngest brother was reclined in one of the heavy chairs, his electric blue eyes tracking Calen's movements. "You're about to create holes in the floor, and I'm certain the village can't afford to replace the floorboards."

Calen stopped. But only because the question demanded it. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"How can you two be so calm about this?" His voice was raw. Desperate. Like something inside him was tearing apart. "She is back. She's back. She was standing in front of us. Looking so alive. Looking so..."

He trailed off, but the word hung in the air anyway:

"Human."

The word seemed to pain him. He reached up and looked at his hand, the one that had cupped her face, that had felt the warmth of her skin, like it belonged to someone else. Like it had betrayed him.

"How is she human?" His voice dropped to something broken. "Why is she..."

He didn't finish. Couldn't finish. Instead, he simply sank into the nearest chair, dropping into it like his strings had been cut.

Theron watched this with silver eyes that missed nothing. His eldest brother was draped across a sofa with the ease of someone used to sitting in thrones, but there was tension in every line of his body. He looked like a predator resting between hunts.

Sebastian, though, was the one who spoke first.

"Do you think the witches are playing a game on us again?" he asked. "Are they hiding her on purpose? Are they toying with us again?"

He turned to look at Theron directly, and the accusation in his gaze was clear: Are they making fools of us?

Theron took a long moment before responding. When he did, his voice was quiet and absolutely certain:

"Maybe. But this time around, we will beat them at their own game."

Calen's head snapped up. "What do you mean, brother?"

Theron rose smoothly from the sofa. When he spoke, it was like a general outlining a strategy of war:

"We have to take her before they take her from us again. We need to bring her back to the palace with us. We need to have her under our care and control before they come for her again." His silver eyes moved between his brothers. "We must not lose her to them this time."

"But she is human," Calen said, and the words came out desperate, almost pleading. "How sure are we that she is a witch in this reincarnation? What if she is actually human?"

Sebastian leaned forward, his electric blue eyes flashing with something primal. When he spoke, his voice was low and certain:

"She is not human, Calen. Something tells me she is not human. You know how cunning the witches are. I doubt she is human at all."

Theron nodded slowly. "So it is decided. We will take her with us and try to find out if she is human or in disguise. But whatever she is, she will be it under our roof. Under our control."

"But how do we make her come with us?" Calen stood up from his chair, agitation returning to his movements. "We can't just uproot her from her village without any tangible reason. What if she becomes vengeful again? What if she decides to..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. The image was there in all their minds: Morgana's face as she drove the magical blade into her own heart 120 years ago. The look in her eyes...not love, not even hate, just absolute resolve. The determination to die rather than be with them.

What if she did that again?

Theron's voice was steady, pragmatic, cutting through the fear:

"Then we need to look for a reason to make her stay willingly. We need to find a reason so tangible she won't be able to leave even if she wants to. Because she will be aware of the consequences."

"What reason do you have in mind?" Sebastian asked.

Theron turned toward the door and called out: "Call in Garrett."

Calen closed his eyes and sent a mindlink to his Beta, a silent command summoning him to their presence. When he opened his eyes a moment later, there was a bitter smile on his face.

"I can't believe we have to look for reasons to take a human girl," he said quietly.

Sebastian's response was sharp: "A human girl who is possibly a reincarnation of our mate."

"Then why are our wolves quiet?" Calen asked, and now there was real concern in his voice. His brown eyes fixed on Theron. "Because although I feel this pull to her...this strong, overwhelming pull, Rex hasn't said anything since we saw her. My wolf is silent, Theron. That's never happened before."

Theron's expression hardened slightly. This was the detail that had been bothering him too. The silence of their wolves was wrong. It was unnatural. Their wolves should have been screaming with recognition, with claiming, with that primal need to bind to their mate.

Instead: nothing.

"That is why I agree with Sebastian's logic," Theron said slowly. "The witches are involved again. They have done something to her. Something that is masking her from our wolves. Something that's hiding what she really is. But we will find out in due time."

The door opened.

Garrett entered with the efficient grace of a warrior who had served the Kings for centuries. He bowed deeply, his scarred face remaining respectful despite the unusual hour.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" His voice was respectful, but there was something knowing in his tone. Garrett had been with them long enough to understand when something was wrong. And whatever had happened in that market had shifted something fundamental.

Theron's silver eyes fixed on him. "Do you remember the human girl from the market? The one at the bread stall?"

Garrett's gaze flicked to Calen....acknowledging his king, before he responded with a simple: "Yes, Your Majesty. I remember her."

"I want you to find out everything about her," Theron commanded, his voice taking on the weight of absolute authority. "Her parents. What they do. Their circumstances. Their debts. Everything. I want to know every detail of her life. And I want a full report by midnight."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will get it done immediately," Garrett said, already turning to leave.

But Theron's next words stopped him:

"And Garrett? Be subtle. I don't want the village to know we're interested. I don't want them to suspect anything."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

He was gone.

The door closed behind him, and the three brothers were alone again.

Calen leaned back in his chair and made a low sound, something between a laugh and a growl. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with resignation:

"Now we wait."

He looked up at Theron. "What do you plan to do with the information he brings?"

Theron was silent for a long moment. He moved to the window and looked out at the sleeping village below.

When Theron finally answered, his smile was cold. It was the smile of a predator who had finally cornered its prey. It was the smile of a king who had waited 120 years for this moment.

"To create the perfect cage for our little witch," he said softly. "One she won't be able to escape."