Chapter 4

HAZEL

The first thing I heard when I opened my eyes was my mother's voice, and for one foolish moment, I thought she had finally come to apologize.

“She's awake,” she said quietly. “Call the physician before she starts making another scene.”

My hope died before I could even turn my head. I lay on a narrow bed beneath the sloping roof of the attic, my entire body aching as though I had been beaten, while the smell of dust and old wood filled my nose. My throat felt painfully dry, and when I tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness forced me back against the pillow, reminding me of how close I had come to collapsing in the forest.

“Mother?” I whispered. “What happened? Did someone find me?”

She turned from the small window, her face hardening when she saw me looking at her.

“You tell me, Hazel. What were you thinking when you started that fire?”

I stared at her, struggling to understand what she had just said. “I was trying to leave.”

“And you nearly burned down part of this house!” she snapped. “Margaret was terrified, and the physician had to attend to her because the smoke made her condition worse. Do you have any idea how selfish you have become?”

I felt tears gather in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had spent so many nights crying into my pillow that I was beginning to hate the weakness that came with every tear, especially when nobody in this house ever seemed to care why I was hurting.

“I almost died last night,” I said. “I couldn't even reach the pack boundary before my legs gave way. Didn't anyone wonder why I was out there alone?”

Mother looked away.

“Your father has decided that you will remain here until you learn to behave responsibly,” she said. “You will not leave this estate without permission, and you will apologize to Margaret before tonight's ball.”

My heart sank. “You still expect me to apologize to her?”

“I expect you to stop making this family suffer because you cannot accept that Margaret belongs here.”

She walked toward the door without another word, leaving me alone beneath the dusty ceiling. I heard the lock turn from the outside, and I stared at the door for a long time, wondering how a family that claimed to love me could be so determined to keep me trapped.

Hours later, the door opened again, and Father entered with the physician behind him. The physician examined my pulse and checked the bruises on my arms, his face growing more troubled with every passing moment, while Father stood nearby with his hands clasped behind his back as though he were waiting for an unpleasant meeting to end.

“Your Majesty,” the physician said carefully, “Princess Hazel needs proper rest, regular meals, and time to recover from the repeated blood donations. I strongly advise against any further transfusions until her condition has stabilized.”

Father's jaw tightened. “We have already discussed this matter, Doctor.”

“And her condition has worsened,” the physician insisted. “If we continue ignoring the warning signs, the consequences could be severe.”

“Then treat her and make sure she is presentable for tonight's event.”

The physician looked at me, and for a brief moment, I thought he might say something more, but he lowered his eyes and gathered his equipment. Before leaving, he quietly told me to drink the water beside my bed and avoid standing too quickly, and I thanked him with a small nod because he was the only person in the house who had acknowledged that I was suffering.

By late afternoon, I heard the sound of arriving carriages and excited voices drifting through the corridors. Louis had returned from the southern territories, and he had brought Tommy Sunwell with him, the heir to the Lycan throne whose name carried more power than most kings could ever hope to possess. I had imagined my brother's return countless times during the lonely years he had been away, believing that once he came home, I would finally have someone who would notice what was happening to me.

When the attic door opened, Louis stood on the other side, looking taller and stronger than I remembered, but the smile on his face vanished the moment he saw me.

“Hazel?”

I tried to smile, although my lips felt stiff. “Welcome home, Louis.”

He crossed the room in three quick steps and knelt beside my bed, his eyes moving over my pale face before settling on the marks covering my arms.

“What happened to you?” he demanded. “Why do you look like this?”

Before I could answer, Father appeared behind him.

“Your sister has been unwell for some time,” he explained. “She has always been sensitive, and lately she has allowed her emotions to get the better of her. She even started a fire last night because she wanted to run away.”

Louis looked from Father to me, clearly struggling to understand.

“You're telling me she did this to herself?”

“I'm telling you that Hazel has become difficult to manage.”

My brother's expression darkened, and he gently took my hand, careful not to touch the bruises around my wrist.

“Is that true, Hazel? Did you start the fire because you wanted to leave?”

I looked into his eyes, desperate to tell him everything, but Margaret's threat returned to my mind, bringing with it the terrifying thought of losing the only family member I still hoped might care about me.

“I just needed to get out,” I whispered.

Louis opened his mouth to ask another question, but Father interrupted him, insisting that the guests were waiting and that we would have time to talk later. My brother hesitated before rising, and the guilt in his eyes hurt almost as much as the silence that followed, because even now, I could not find the courage to tell him why I had been so desperate to escape.

That evening, two maids arrived to prepare me for the masquerade ball. They dressed me in a simple silver gown that hung loosely on my weakened body, brushed my hair, and placed a delicate mask over my eyes, but none of their efforts could hide the exhaustion in my face. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the girl staring back at me, and I wondered whether my wolf would ever become strong enough to return to me.

The ballroom glittered with chandeliers, golden decorations, and hundreds of candles, while visiting Alphas and their families filled the hall with conversation and laughter. Margaret stood near my parents in a beautiful pale-gold gown, looking healthy and radiant as Mother adjusted her necklace and Father proudly introduced her to the guests. I remained near the edge of the room, hoping nobody would notice me, because the last thing I wanted was another reminder that I no longer belonged in my own family.

Then the doors opened, and Tommy Sunwell entered beside Louis.

He was taller than I expected, with broad shoulders, dark hair, and an expression that made the surrounding guests straighten instinctively as he passed. His black formal clothes carried the silver crest of the North, and even behind his mask, there was something commanding about him that made it difficult to look away.

Margaret immediately moved toward him, smiling as though she had been waiting for this moment all her life.

“Lord Tommy,” she said sweetly. “It is such an honor to welcome you to our home.”

He acknowledged her politely, but his attention suddenly shifted toward the other side of the ballroom.

Toward me.

The moment our eyes met, something stirred deep inside my chest, a strange warmth that spread through my weakened body and reached the place where my wolf had been silent for so long. My breath caught, and for the first time in months, I felt something answer inside me, faint but unmistakable, as though a sleeping part of myself had recognized him before my mind could understand why.

Tommy stopped walking.

His expression changed, and the air around him seemed to grow heavier as he stared at me with an intensity that made my heart race.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Margaret's smile faltered. “That is Hazel, the king's daughter. She hasn't been feeling well, so she usually keeps to herself.”

Tommy ignored her and began walking toward me.

I wanted to move away, but my feet refused to obey, and when he finally stopped in front of me, I could barely breathe. He studied my face as though he had discovered something he had spent his entire life searching for, and then his eyes widened with sudden recognition.

“No,” he whispered, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “It can't be.”

“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

He reached toward me, then stopped before touching my hand, as though he were afraid that even the smallest movement might break whatever had drawn us together.

“I have searched for you for over twenty years.”

A stunned silence spread through the people standing closest to us, and Margaret's face turned pale beneath her makeup.

Tommy straightened, his gaze never leaving mine, and when he spoke again, his voice carried across the ballroom with the force of a royal command.

“Hazel Larkspur is my destined mate.”

Gasps erupted around us, followed by a storm of whispers that swept through the hall. My father pushed through the gathering crowd, his face twisted with disbelief, while Margaret stood frozen beside Mother, looking as though the world she had carefully built was beginning to collapse.