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Sage Everything hurts. I discover muscles I didn't know existed as I drag myself out of bed the morning after training. But the physical aches are nothing compared to the panic that sets in when Iris bursts into my room like a whirlwind."Emergency!" She's already throwing open the massive wardrobe that intimidates me daily. "The Northern Pack delegation is arriving tonight for a formal gathering. We have exactly eight hours to make you presentable."My stomach drops. "I can just . . . not go?"Iris spins to face me, hands on hips. "You're living in the Lycan King's packhouse. Attendance isn't optional.""But I'm just—""If you say 'just an omega' I will throw something at you." She rifles through dresses I've been too scared to touch. "You calmed a feral wolf yesterday. Pretty sure that earns you a seat at the table."Right. The incident that everyone's probably still talking about. I bite my lip, remembering the way Alaric looked at me afterward – like I was a puzzle he couldn't sol
Sage Dawn paints the training field in shades of gold as we gather for morning practice. I'm still sore from yesterday, but a different kind of tension thrums through me as I watch Alaric demonstrate today's defensive moves. His powerful frame moves with fluid grace, and I force myself to focus on the technique rather than the way his training shirt clings to his shoulders."You're staring," Iris whispers, appearing at my elbow."I'm studying his form," I protest, heat climbing into my cheeks."Oh, I bet you are." She grins wickedly. "Want to hear about the time he fell into the creek trying to show off for a pretty wolf?""Iris—""Partner up!" Alaric's command cuts through the morning air. Before I can move, Iris grabs my arm."You're with me today." Her smile promises trouble. "Time for some bestie bonding."We square off on the training mats. Iris moves into the first defensive stance, and I mirror her, remembering yesterday's lessons."Did you know," she says conversationally as w
Alaric From my office window, their laughter carries on the morning breeze. Sage and Iris sit in the garden, heads bent together over breakfast, sunlight turning Sage's silver-blonde hair to starfire. My lycan rumbles with contentment at seeing our mate happy, even if we can't claim her yet.Then the wind shifts, bringing a scent that turns my blood to ice. My parents are here. Three weeks early.By the time the guards announce their arrival, I'm already in the courtyard. Phantom paces beneath my skin, agitated by the approaching threat to our fragile peace.Father's power hits like a physical wave as their carriage arrives – cold, implacable Alpha energy that used to send me to my knees as a pup. Now I stand firm, though something deep inside still wants to flinch."Alaric." His voice carries the weight of decades of judgment. Even before he steps down, his eyes scan the courtyard, cataloging weaknesses. "Your eastern guard post is exposed. A child could breach it.""Father." I bow e
Sage The scent of healing herbs usually calms me, but today even the familiar routine of sorting leaves and roots can't quiet my nerves. The servants' whispers echo through the healing wing like falling leaves:"—alliance meeting—" "—King Perseus himself suggested—" "—perfect match, really—"I focus harder on the yarrow leaves in my hands, trying to make myself smaller, invisible. But invisibility is impossible when Eris sweeps through the door with King Perseus himself, her voice carrying with practiced precision."The Northern borders have always been our primary concern," she's saying. "My father's pack has defended that territory for generations.""Indeed." Perseus's cold approval makes me want to shrink into the shadows. "Your knowledge of pack politics is... refreshing."His gaze slides over me like I'm less than nothing. Eris's smile shows just a hint of fang."Oh, Sage dear," she trills. "Those leaves are for fever reduction. The healing wing really should have someone more...
Sage It's the fragments that catch my attention first – hushed voices drifting from Alaric's study as I pass."—becoming a liability—" "—can't protect the pack if we're constantly—" "—have to make a decision about the omega—"I freeze, pressing against the wall beside the partially open door. Alaric's voice cuts through the others, tight with tension."She stays. That's not up for discussion.""But my King, after what happened at the gathering—""I said no."The finality in his tone should be reassuring. Instead, it reminds me of all the times Cassius defended keeping me around at Blackthorn – right up until I became inconvenient.I slip away before they can discover me eavesdropping. The word "liability" echoes in my head as I make my way to the dining hall, hoping food might settle my churning stomach.The moment I enter, I know it's a mistake. Eris sits at a table with three other high-ranking she-wolves, their voices carrying just enough to seem unintentional."—always had a soft
SageThe moon is my only witness as I slip from the packhouse. Three hours until dawn – I've learned to measure time by shadows and silence. Blackthorn taught me that, along with how to move unseen, how to become nothing more than a whisper in the dark.My small bag weighs heavy against my back, filled with only essentials. No luxuries from the closet that was never mine. No delusions about belonging.The first guard patrol passes below my window – right on schedule. They're clockwork in their movements, just like at Blackthorn. Different pack, same predictable patterns. I count their steps until they round the corner, then ease into the shadows of the garden.The irony isn't lost on me as I use the defensive moves from training to avoid detection. Keep low, stay aware, use your surroundings. Alaric's voice echoes in my head, and I shove away the ache in my chest at the thought of him.A twig snaps nearby. I freeze, pressing against rough bark, barely breathing. Two guards pass so clos
Alaric I feel it first as a sharp spike of terror that isn't mine. The mate bond pulses with Sage's fear, yanking me from a meeting about border security."—and the northern patrols—" Garrett's voice fades as another wave hits me. Despair. Betrayal. Pain.I'm on my feet before I realize I'm moving. "Find her. Now.""Alpha?""Sage." Her name comes out as a growl. "Something's wrong."My beast claws beneath my skin as I stride through the packhouse, following traces of her scent. She was in the library recently – honeysuckle and rain lingering near her favorite window seat. But the trail goes cold at the entrance.More guards join the search. No one has seen her for hours. Each minute that passes sends my wolf into greater frenzy. The bond pulses with her distress, but I can't pinpoint her location."The grounds are clear," Iris reports, face tight with worry. "No sign of her in the gardens or training fields."A servant mentions seeing her run from my study earlier. When I burst in, he
Sage Cold stone seeps through my thin dress, but I can't stop shivering. The chains Eris insisted upon are too familiar – the same way Cassius bound me before... before…I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block the memories. Different dungeon. Different pack. Same lesson: I'll never be more than something to be caged.Footsteps echo on stone. The click of expensive heels, unhurried. Confident."Comfortable?" Eris's voice drips false concern. "I do apologize for the accommodations, but thieves can't be choosers.""We both know I didn't steal anything." My voice sounds smaller than I want it to.She examines her perfect manicured nails in the dim light. "Do we? The evidence seems quite clear. A silver candlestick from the royal vault, found in your possession. Really, what would your parents think?" Her smile curves like a blade. "Oh wait, you don't know who they were, do you? Perhaps they were thieves too."I curl tighter into myself, the chains clinking. "Why are you doing this?""Bec
Lyra"Remember, we're here to request help, not demand it," I remind Alexander quietly. "Royal authority may not carry much weight here."He nods, visibly shifting from crown prince to diplomatic visitor in subtle ways—sitting less formally in his saddle, keeping his hands visible and relaxed, his expression open rather than commanding.A small “welcoming committee” awaits us at the settlement's edge—three people positioned deliberately to assess newcomers before they fully enter the community. The central figure steps forward as we dismount—a gray-haired man with the weathered face of someone accustomed to harsh conditions and hard decisions."What brings the Lycan crown to Blackstone Ridge?" he asks without preamble, confirming they've somehow recognized Alexander despite our lack of royal insignia."We seek Healer Karina," Alexander replies with careful respect. "On a matter of mutual concern regarding her aunt."The man's expression doesn't change, but tension ripples through the
LyraTwo days on horseback through increasingly rugged terrain has taught me several things: palace saddles are surprisingly comfortable, Alexander knows every hidden trail in his kingdom, and watching two grown men try to out-stubborn each other about the best route is both frustrating and oddly entertaining."The eastern path follows the riverbed," Kieran argues, pointing to the fork ahead. "Easier terrain for the horses.""The western route is more direct," Alexander counters, "and less exposed if Vega's agents are watching main thoroughfares."I sigh loudly enough for both to hear. "Maybe I should just flip a coin while you two continue this fascinating debate?"They turn to me with identical expressions of mild offense that make me bite back a laugh. For all their differences, they share a remarkable stubborn streak neither seems willing to acknowledge."The western route is faster," Alexander reiterates, "which means less time exposed to potential—""I get it," I interrupt. "Sec
KieranRather than engaging with the royal physician’s attitude, I turn my attention to Elise. "May I?" I ask, gesturing toward her rounded belly.She nods, and I kneel before her, placing my hands gently on her abdomen.Closing my eyes, I extend my senses to assess the baby's position and Elise's overall condition. The child is indeed awkwardly turned, pressing against her spine in a way that causes significant discomfort without presenting any real danger."The baby's healthy," I assure her, opening my eyes. "Just a bit stubborn about positioning, like its mother."This earns a small laugh from Elise, some tension leaving her shoulders. "Can you help?""A specific stretching routine twice daily and some herbal tea to relax the muscles should encourage proper positioning," I explain. "Plus a firmer sleeping surface—this bed is like trying to rest on a cloud."The palace physician clears his throat. "I recommended complete bed rest to avoid complications.""Which would actually increas
Kieran"Hold still or I'll accidentally stab you with this pin."I glance down at the tailor kneeling by my legs, his mouth full of pins as he adjusts the formal tunic that supposedly makes me look like a respectable court representative instead of a forest healer way out of his depth."How much longer is this torture going to last?" I ask, resisting the urge to scratch where the stiff fabric chafes against my neck."Beauty requires suffering," the tailor mumbles around his pins."I'm aiming for 'not embarrassing' rather than beauty," I correct him, which earns me a dismissive snort."The prince was most specific about the quality of your attire," he replies, expertly pinning a seam. "Royal blue with silver accents to complement Lady Lyra's ensemble while marking you as an official representative of the healing community."The thought of Alexander personally selecting my outfit for tonight's dinner is equal parts amusing and unsettling. Twenty-four hours ago, I'd have bet good money th
Alexander A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. "Enter," I call, expecting another messenger or council member.Instead, Kieran stands in the doorway, hesitating at the threshold as if unsure of his welcome. "Your Highness," he greets formally. "I was told you wanted to see me?"I blink in surprise. "I hadn't sent for you yet, but your timing is perfect. Please, come in."He enters cautiously, his posture suggesting he's bracing for confrontation. I realize with sudden clarity how rarely we've interacted without Lyra present, how much tension still exists beneath our carefully maintained civility."The moonflower essence is secure in the reliquary," he says, clearly assuming this is about the ritual. "Queen Sage confirmed the potency exceeds expectations.""Good," I nod, "but that's not why I wanted to speak with you." I gesture to the chair Dominic recently vacated. "I have a proposition that requires your particular expertise."Curiosity overcomes wariness as he takes the offe
Alexander"They found her, but she's not exactly rolling out the welcome mat."Dominic drops a report on my desk, interrupting my third attempt to write a diplomatic response to the Northern territories. I've been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes, my mind constantly drifting back to last night with Lyra."Vega's niece?" I ask, pushing aside the draft to read the new report."Karina," he confirms, dropping into the chair across from me. "Lives in a tiny settlement called Blackstone Ridge at the edge of the Northern territories. Our messengers found her, but she told them—and I'm quoting directly here—'to go fuck themselves and the royal horses they rode in on.'"I can't help but laugh. "Sounds like she inherited her aunt's charming personality, if not her politics.""She's a healer," Dominic continues, "which makes her refusal more complicated. She's not just rejecting royal authority; she's rejecting what she sees as interference in healer business."I lean back in my c
Lyra "I'm glad," I tell Kieran, meaning it despite the complex emotions churning beneath. "That you have someone to talk to."He looks surprised, then grateful for my response. "It helps," he admits. "Figuring out my place here, now that everything's..." he gestures vaguely, "different."The word encompasses so much—our relationship, our community's situation, our very identities shifting in this new context. I reach across the table to touch his hand briefly."Some things aren't different," I tell him. "You're still important to me, Kieran. That hasn't changed."His eyes meet mine, conflict evident in their green depths. "Just important in a different way now."I can't deny the truth of this observation. Before I can respond, a palace page appears in the doorway, bowing slightly when he spots me."Healer Lyra, Prince Alexander requests your presence in the royal study. He says it's regarding tonight's ritual."Kieran withdraws his hand from beneath mine, the moment broken. "You shoul
Lyra The royal sanctuary glows with morning light filtering through its glass walls, illuminating Queen Sage as she tends to rare plants with her own hands rather than delegating the task to servants. She looks up as I enter, a knowing smile touching her lips."Lyra," she greets warmly. "You look well this morning."Something in her tone tells me she's perfectly aware of why I might look "well," and I feel heat rise to my cheeks again. "Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty.""Sage, please," she corrects, setting aside her gardening tools. "At least when we're alone. We're family now, after all."The casual acknowledgment of my place in her son's life—in the royal family—leaves me momentarily speechless. I've been so focused on the complications of court politics that I hadn't fully considered the simpler truth: I've gained not just a mate but a family connection.I kneel beside the spiral pattern of silver-blue blooms she’s tending, assessing their condition with a healer's eye. "T
Lyra Sunlight streams through the curtains, painting warm patterns across the tangled sheets. I wake slowly, momentarily disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings before memories of the night flood back. The weight of Alexander's arm draped across my waist anchors me to both the present moment and the significance of what passed between us.I study his sleeping face, softer in repose than his usual royal mask allows. Dark lashes rest against cheeks still bearing faint marks where power surges manifested during our separation. The bond between us pulses with contented warmth, stronger and more stable than it's been since the temporary healing at the Cave of Whispers."You're staring," he murmurs without opening his eyes, a smile curving his lips."Just making sure you're real," I reply, surprised by the vulnerability in my own voice.His eyes open then, violet depths focusing on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "Very real," he assures me, pulling me closer. "And not going