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[ELARA] "Mother, people are getting suspicious. I overheard a guard tell another that he thinks Magnus is dead," Ruelle voices out meekly to Lady Celia, who’s standing beside her with her hands clasped together. "It’s been three days, and no one has seen him." They’re both dressed in pale gray gowns held together by metallic wolf heads at the shoulders. Ruelle resembles her mother, albeit younger and, if I dare say, more beautiful. Beatrice told me that Celia was stripped of her title as ‘Princess’ when it was found that her husband, Magnus’ father, was guilty of treason against the kingdom of Caelondor. While her husband was sent to the guillotine, Celia was shamed for not stopping him from committing the crimes. Magnus was spared because he was only ten at the time, seemingly innocent and unaware of the scheme. I felt bad when I learned of it, as anyone else would. The horror of Magnus’ past hasn’t left my mind since. The image of him being a young boy and witnessing his father's
[ELARA] Minutes pass but I don’t move from Magnus’ side. I know I’m no help to him here, but I can’t bring myself to leave. He stayed by my side when I suffered for days. Even the thought of leaving him feels like betrayal. Magnus is quiet. Too quiet—as if he’s already dead. According to the royal physician who is sworn to secrecy, all we can do is pray and wait for him to recover. These were his words two days ago. Since then the only thing I’ve noticed is the life draining out of him. There’s no improvement. I note Alistair’s tensed face from a distance. He looks like he’s about to cry but somehow he’s holding back, his jaw clenched hard. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder if he wishes to talk. “Alistair,” I begin, but my voice comes out unsure. Regardless, he steps forward at once. “Are you alright?” I question him For a moment, I’m convinced he’s not going to answer me. Even if he does it’ll be something short and submissive, letting me know that he doesn’t want to open
[ELARA]Blood trickles from Magnus’ nostrils and down the sides of his face, staining the blanket beneath him scarlet. No, this can’t be happening. The royal physician had managed to stop his nose bleeding before, but he warned us that if it happened again it’d mean he was beyond saving. That he was close to death. “Magnus,” I whisper his name helplessly as I bring a cloth to his nose. He begins to choke, emitting a guttural noise with his eyes closed. “Hold on, Magnus,” I plead. “I’ll call the royal physician. Just hold on.”The distance between the bed to the exit of the chamber, albeit small, seems to stretch for miles. ‘Magnus can’t die, he just can’t,’ I tell myself repeatedly. I even trip on the length of my gray gown and topple over an urn from a table.Alistair is at the door guarding, but he’s not alone. Morgana is with him, and he’s blocking her way. I ignore her and inform him hurriedly, “Magnus… his nose is bleeding again. We have to call the royal physician at once!”“
[ELARA]A few minutes pass in silence before Alistair walks towards me. “Do you trust her?” he questions me, but there’s an edge to his voice as if he wants to add something more but is holding back.I shake my head but not really in denial. “Morgana confuses me. But she provided the magic we needed to save him. She’s right. He needs her.”There’s a pause where Alistair sighs, thinking deep on something. I gather the ends of my gown and sit myself on the edge of the bed, folding my knees.“Do you think anyone can really barge in and attack us here?” I make myself ask. He shakes his head. “It’ll be too risky if I’m being very honest. A poisoning while indiscreet can still be ambiguous.”“Can you tell me about this garden?” Alistair lowers his head as he explains, “Prince Magnus’ mother was poisoned. Since then he has been very hesitant to readily eat anything. He only eats at banquets or with the queen mother in the grand dining hall. Among crowds, where there’s very little chance of
[ELARA] “Princess Elara, your bath is ready,” Beatrice informs me, bowing. She’s dressed in a dull blue tunic—perhaps that’s the most festive attire she owns. This morning, a raven arrived from King Eldric with a note attached to its feet, which commanded that the palace and the capital residents must flaunt their best garments and welcome him back after his momentous victory against the kingdom of Wyvern. This was taken, as expected, oddly by those at court. We’re merely eight days in the mourning period—which typically lasts for fourteen days here in Caelondor. Wearing gray and observing silence is seen as respect to the dead. But he’s the King. And if that’s his command then that’s what shall be done. I came by the Luna's idol earlier today and it was decorated with bright flowers and wick-lamps. The main hall itself is adorned with garlands, and intricate tapestries—a far cry from its usual plain walls and high torches, and I’m sure I saw a group of dancers preparing in one of
[ELARA] “Magnus!” I call out his name without another thought, catching him mid-turn. Was he trying to run away from me? Avoid me once again and pretend he didn’t see me? I can’t tolerate any more of this. It’s suffocating and beyond annoying. With quick strides, I reach him. Alistair is behind him, of course, like a shadow. “Elara,” he mumbles, his voice coarse. It has been this way since he gained consciousness. His eyes stare intently into mine. His gaze combined with the way he sounds, make me aware of the air touching my arms. “What happened?” “I need to talk to you,” I tell him, my voice faltering as I suddenly realize that this is a bad idea. How do I approach this? ‘Silly, why do you even care?’ Lila taunts me. “I’m occupied right now. The King will arrive shortly. His ship is in view at the coast. I think whatever you have to say can wait,” he responds dismissively. Although he stands firmly, I can see that it's not effortless. Goddess knows what he’s going throug
Lila's paws pound against the earth, her muscles flexing with each powerful stride. The forest drowns her in a symphony of scents and sounds—the rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, the earthy aroma of damp soil. It is a familiar melody, one she has missed dearly during her time confined within the walls of the palace inside the mind of her human counterpart. As she races through the dense foliage, the cool breeze brushes against her fur, sending shivers of exhilaration down her spine. The sensation of freedom surges through her veins, lifting her spirits higher with every bound. She is alive, truly alive, in a way that only the wild can offer.Emerging from the shadows of the forest, Lila reaches the cliff's edge, overlooking the vastness of the Cursed Gulf. The sight takes her breath away—the rolling waves crashing against jagged rocks, the salty tang of the sea mingling with the crisp air.In the distance, a ship appears on the horizon, its sails billowing in the wind as it app
[ELARA]As soon as I can feel my hands again, I begin to wipe the blood that is smeared on my face. As the last of Lila’s fur disappears from my body, and I’m left naked, I can hear my heart once again—it’s pounding furiously. The taste of blood is still evident on my tongue as I reach to the grass-covered ground and pick up the scarlet fabric that Lila just tore off of the dead man’s hand. The man… I know him. He’s a minister at court. I saw him this morning with Magnus in the hallways… and now he’s dead. Murdered. Brutally. And this fabric—as much as I wish it weren’t true—belongs to one of Morgana’s gowns. Which implies that she killed him. Or is clear evidence of her involvement. It’s hard to believe that a plain wish to shift into my wolf form would lead to such a horrifying revelation. I have to tell Magnus about this as soon as I can. I shrug into my silk lilac gown, and brush off the dry leaves that are stuck in my lace sleeves. I comb my fingers through my hair, trying my
[MAGNUS]“Stay with me.”It’s a plea more than anything. I can’t bear the thought of losing Elara. The thought of her dying because I began to care for her. There’s no way to draw out the silver faster. It can take days… weeks.Silver. The most potent weapon to kill our kind. An silver tipped arrow lodged into her chest, just inches away from her heart. She could’ve been dead. But she isn’t. There has to be some purpose to this, right? Another cruel fate woven by the Moon Goddess?The healers know nothing. Rather, they know little of this. Their abilities are limited to what is approved by nature. What is permitted to be done within the confines of Caelondor. But Morgana? She can dive into alchemy, drawn upon dark magic — magic that saved Elara from becoming a rogue. She can take my blood again. Goddess, she can take my life if it means saving Elara’s.I’m about to go looking for Morgana when she appears at the edge of the bed. Not as herself, but as Talisa. But the glimmer of red in
[MAGNUS]“To the Royal Annoyance (my beloved brother), Magnus,Summer in Qaiven is brutal. I don’t know why I thought coming here was a good idea… Hold on, I’m only jesting! I have almost made up my mind to never leave. This place is wonderful just as you described from your varied visits for the Grand Conclave. And no, I’m not talking of the observatories of alchemists, or the quiet art galleries you love! The port of Vynov is certainly the grandest — the one in Caelondor pales shamefully in comparison. The streets are filled with people from all over the continent! Can you believe, I’ve already made friends with a High Lady who runs a brothel? Oh, Magnus. Unsaddle your horse. Of course, that is a jest, too. Your goons are keeping me perfectly safe from any danger that could be lurking. Frankly, the idea of never coming back to Caelondor is tempting. But so is the urge to bring you a barrel of blueberries only to see you scowl. Can you please start liking them? They’re the loveliest
[MAGNUS]Every single pair of eyes in the council room is fixed on me. This isn’t the first time I’ve been a subject of their collective gazes, but this is clearly the first time I’ve cowered under it. I keep my head bowed low, projecting the emotion I feel — heartbreak for Ruelle’s betrayal and disappointment in my inability to find her. But this won’t support my claim — the claim I’ve put forward in front of the council. “They were attacked in the woods, and Ruelle was taken away.”I should be angry, aggravated, thrashing anything and everything in my way. I should be making statements of how I’ll make those who took her suffer. Anything to make my words more believable. Anything for Eldric to believe that Ruelle didn’t run away to escape her marriage. But I fail. I fail to grasp control of my own actions, of my movements. The mate bond pulls strongly at me, and I grit my teeth, holding back the pain Elara is suffering that I now experience too. The questions that trickle into m
[MAGNUS]Everything happens in a haze. One moment I’m standing too confused on all fours wondering what odd twist of fate has occurred and how I find myself with a mate once again — the mate being Elara, of all people. And the next, all the air has been emptied from my lungs as I watch the arrow hiss through the air and lodge into her wolf form’s neck. As she collapses to the ground, her body shifts back into her human form. When I reach her, I’m human once again — not even realizing when the command reverberated through my mind. Blood trickles down her skin, pooling at her collarbone, as I hold her up in my lap. Creed howls at the pain his mate is experiencing but I’m too shocked, too numb to do anything. “Elara,” her name finally escapes my lips in a choked whisper. “Elara, please…”My hand hovers over the wound, but I’m not even sure what to do. She’s dying, I think as I press down gently, desperate to stop the flow, but it only seeps through my fingers.I try to breathe, but th
[LILA]Lila races through the dense forest, her paws striking the earth with relentless speed. The world around her is a blur, the scents of moss and bark barely registering as she focuses solely on the chase. Ahead, the blue-eyed wolf’s scent grows fainter, but Lila pushes herself harder, determined to close the distance. Her instincts scream at her to catch up, to protect, to keep the young wolf within her reach.The beat of the wolf’s paws pounds through the earth, faint yet distinct, and Lila’s muscles tense with every stride. She tries reaching out to the wolf through the mind-link, calling her despite not knowing her name, but the distance makes it impossible to connect. Her human’s panic flickers through their shared consciousness, tightening in her mind, urging Lila not to slow, not to give up. But Lila’s resolve is unwavering. She won’t fail.Suddenly, her pace falters. She skids to a stop, frozen mid-stride, as something strange washes over her — a powerful, magnetic pull tha
[MAGNUS]As I add the final strokes to the canvas, Alistair steps forward, his voice cutting through the quiet air of the gallery. “Lady Celia has arrived,” he informs me in his usual calm tone.I pause, setting the brush down with care. I step back, my gaze fixed on the painting in front of me, trying to soak in what I’ve just done. It feels strange — almost foreign — to stand here and look at something I’ve created with my own hands after all these years. A heavy sigh escapes me as I take in the finished piece. It is perfect, almost a replica.I can already picture Elara’s reaction. She will be pleased. She’ll smile — a smile I’ve rarely seen directed toward me, but one I’ve longed for more than I care to admit. And the thought of that smile, of seeing her light up with joy, stirs something inside me that I’ve kept buried for far too long.Happiness.It’s been so long since I’ve dared to pursue it. But now… now it feels like something I’m ready to bet on. Something I’m willing to ri
[ELARA]Ruelle insists on taking the horses instead of a palanquin, much to the distaste of Lady Celia. Despite all of her mother’s efforts to persuade her, Ruelle remains stubbornly set on her wish to ride into the forest, claiming, “I’ve grown up now, and I can make my own choices!”Lady Celia passes her a glare, but it dissolves as soon as Ruelle wraps her in an embrace. “You must let me make decisions now, mother. But that’s not to say my love or respect for you has diminished in any way. I will always love you and hold you in the highest regard.”For a moment, I hold my breath, expecting my mother-in-law to break out into tears. Her lower lip twitches and then she swallows hard, easing into the hug for a brief moment before letting go. “You’ll always be my little girl, Rue,” she manages to speak in a thick voice before clearing her throat and regaining the sharp edge in her tone. “Don’t flatter me now. It’s your night. Do what you wish.” As Ruelle hops onto the horse that the gua
[MAGNUS]The words I spoke to Elara this morning play over and over in my mind, like a song that refuses to stop, growing louder with each passing hour. They were true, every word, but now I wish I had kept my mouth shut. I should have turned around the moment I realized she was bathing. Creed, my wolf, growls in agreement, though he’s as conflicted as I am.But my heart didn’t listen to reason. I stayed. And for the first time in a long while, I let myself be completely vulnerable.I spoke. I gave voice to everything I’ve been holding back, and now I can’t stop thinking about how foolish it was to break the silence I’ve kept so carefully guarded. I let my walls down — walls I’ve built and reinforced over the years, since the day I lost Nyra. Nyra.Creed howls her name in my mind, stirring the old grief that I’ve learned to keep buried. I promised myself I would never forget her. She was my mate, my first and only love. How could I let myself think, even for a moment, that Elara coul
[ELARA] The royal gallery looms ahead of us, its grand doors slightly ajar, waiting to swallow us into its quiet, forgotten world — it’s a place where the very history of Caelondor is etched into the walls, immortalized in paintings and tapestries. And yet it is quiet. I’ve never understood why the residents of the palace don’t seem to appreciate this place more. Perhaps they’ve all been here too many times, their eyes no longer able to see its beauty. But for me, every visit feels like a discovery — a journey into the heart of the past. The sunlight through the window sends the colors of the stained glass dancing across the marble floor, but the gallery remains utterly still, devoid of life beyond us.Ruelle paces slowly in front of the stained-glass wall, her hands clasped in front of her as if holding herself together. She looks incredibly beautiful today, her features sharper, her eyes bluer despite the frown that doesn’t seem to fade. The stained glass wall paints her silhouet