The Royal Palace

- Alpha King Alfroid's POV -

I was deep into a board game of strategy with my Royal Guard, a man whose skill in tactics was unmatched, when a deafening bang on the door shattered the stillness of the night.

“Your Majesty!” A servant’s frantic voice followed the pounding knock.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Past three in the morning. I hadn’t realized how quickly the hours had slipped away.

The sound of hurried footsteps came from outside.

“Let him enter,” I commanded, my voice low but edged with authority. The Royal Guard by the door obeyed at once.

The servant stumbled in, his face pale and trembling. He bowed quickly, his words tumbling over themselves. “Your Majesty, we have found Princess Helena in the river! She was unconscious and wounded!”

The air left my lungs. His panicked declaration was enough to hurl me from my chair. Without hesitation, I rushed down the corridors toward my daughter’s quarters.

Impossible. My Helena... my daughter who was fierce, unyielding, and untouchable. She would never fall prey to an enemy, and she would never allow anyone to lay a hand on her. The thought of her lying broken was unthinkable. And yet the pounding of my heart betrayed me.

When I burst into her chambers, the sight rooted me in horror.

Servants crowded the bedside, stripping away blood-soaked garments I did not recognize. My daughter’s body lay still, her pale skin smeared with streaks of red. Her gown... torn and shredded, spoke of violence I could hardly fathom.

“Alfroid, what is happening?” My wife’s voice met me, full of confusion as she turned from her chair and rushed forward.

I could barely find my own voice. “Helena… was found wounded.”

She pushed past me to the bed, her hands trembling as she searched the girl’s face. Disbelief clouded her features. “That is not possible. I was just with Helena.” Her voice cracked, breaking into confusion and fear.

I frowned, the weight of her words sinking into me. My wife was right... Our daughter, the real Helena, would never allow this. She's ruthless and indomitable. Who, then, is this girl unconscious before us?

I could feel the bond of my wolf tugging violently within me. Blood calls to blood. No matter the doubt, I knew. My instincts screamed the truth.

This is our daughter.

Before I could speak, the air in the room shifted. A chilling aura filled the space.

“Mom. Dad. What are you doing in my room?”

Helena entered with her usual icy grace, her expression void of warmth. The coldness of her eyes, the emptiness in her voice, yes, this is the daughter I had raised... my Helena.

Then who…?

My wife gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as tears spilled over her cheeks. “H-Heminica.”

The name struck the air like lightning. My knees weakened, my breath caught in my throat. My long-lost daughter. The one we had mourned for a decade.

My wife sobbed openly now, torn between joy and sorrow. “Alfroid…” She looked at me with trembling lips, relief and anguish mingling in her eyes.

I nodded stiffly, though my heart thundered as wildly as hers. “It is her.” My wolf howled within me, fierce and certain. The girl lying bloodied before us was no stranger. She is ours.

Helena stepped closer, her mask of indifference faltering for the first time in years. Her eyes widened as they landed on her twin, and I watched disbelief crumble into raw emotion. For once, my cold, untouchable daughter trembled.

She raised a hand and brushed her sister’s bruised cheek with shaking fingers. Her voice, though soft, carried a dangerous edge. “She looks exactly like me.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with fury and grief. Whoever had dared harm my daughter would pay with their life.

“Bring in the physician!” My voice thundered across the chamber, sharper than I intended.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” a servant rushed out.

My wife clung to Heminica’s limp hand, tears dripping onto the sheets. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered brokenly. The weight of her longing, the years of grief, was in every syllable.

Helena stood frozen at the bedside, her expression unreadable. But I saw it... the flicker of relief, the spark of rage, the undeniable bond of blood that no cruelty of fate could sever.

“We are finally complete,” I murmured, though my heart was heavy with the sight of Heminica’s fragile, battered frame.

- Princess Helena’s POV -

My chest tightened painfully as I stood over the bed. My twin sister—the sister I thought I had lost forever... is here. Bruised. Bloodied. Broken.

“How is she?” My voice cut across the room like steel.

The physician flinched, his hands shaking as he bowed. “Th-there are signs of internal bleeding, Your Highness. I managed to stop it, but she will need weeks to recover. She suffered heavily from the fall and the current of the river.” His voice wavered with fear.

My jaw clenched. My fist curled until my nails bit into my palm. The urge to kill burned beneath my skin. Whoever dared inflict this suffering on her would not live to see another dawn.

“How long until she wakes?” I forced myself to lower the chill in my tone, though the cold fury still bled through.

“P-perhaps a day or two, Your Highness,” he stammered. “She is gravely malnourished. I have administered nutrients through her veins to restore her strength.”

The words slammed into me like a blade. Malnourished. She had suffered all these years... alone, starved, and neglected while I lived in privilege. My vision darkened, rage suffocating me.

“Helena.” Father’s voice sounded behind me, breaking through my fury.

“The hermit has arrived in the kingdom.”

I frowned. The hermit, the old man who claimed he could unravel a person’s past with nothing but sight. I never trusted his riddles, but Father’s eyes gleamed with determination.

“Let him see Heminica,” he said firmly. “Let us uncover the life she lived away from us. I will know who did this. I will know who dared hurt my daughter.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until she wakes and tells us herself?” My voice was flat, though anger still rippled beneath it.

“We have already waited ten long years,” Father said, his voice heavy with unshakable resolve. “I will not wait a moment longer.”

I turned my gaze back to Heminica, her fragile body swallowed by the sheets, her chest rising weakly with each breath. My cold façade cracked as pain twisted inside me. For the first time in years, I felt fear. Not for myself, but for her.

Who had she become in those lost years? And who had made her suffer this way?