Chapter 4

Red, pink, and brown were the colors of the day. All around me lay the aftermath of a brutal attack. The scent of blood and death permeated the air, a stark contrast to the usual fragrance of flowers that graced our pack. The sight before me was devastating—my pack's warriors, once fierce and formidable, now lay lifeless, their bodies torn apart by the ferocity of a single assailant. The sheer brutality of the scene painted a vivid picture of the monster we faced. Whoever this adversary was, he moved so swiftly that I couldn't even catch a glimpse of his identity.

A cry escaped my lips as my eyes landed on my father, lying motionless in a pool of his own blood. The weight of despair settled upon me as I dropped to my knees beside him, cradling his lifeless face in my trembling hands.

"Father," I pleaded, my voice choked with anguish, "please, open your eyes, say something, anything!" I shook his body in desperation, but there was no response. Fear gripped me as the reality sank in—my father, my hero, was gone.

Turning my gaze from the tragic scene, I surveyed the chaos surrounding me. The remaining warriors of our pack valiantly fought against our mysterious assailant, but it was clear they were outmatched. Exhaustion had taken its toll, and some of our warriors had resigned themselves to their fate, while others fought on with grim determination. Yet, it seemed futile, for this adversary possessed a lethal skill that made easy work of our best fighters.

Tears streamed down my face as the full weight of grief consumed me. My father, our alpha, had been taken from us, leaving a void that could never be filled. I felt a mixture of anger and helplessness wash over me, but amidst the turmoil, a familiar voice called out my name.

"Valeria!"

Melody, my loyal friend, stood a short distance away, her appearance surprisingly unmarred by the bloodshed. In times like these, she should have been fighting alongside our warriors, protecting our people.

"Valeria!" she yelled again, her urgency evident as she approached and snapped her fingers in front of my face, trying to bring me back from the depths of my sorrow. "Snap out of it!"

The scene shifted abruptly. I found myself in a bed, not my own, surrounded by a faint aroma of honey. Sitting up, I met Melody's concerned gaze. My body felt heavy, and I realized I was still wearing the blood-soaked attire from the battle.

"I had a nightmare," I began, my voice trembling, "I saw my father die, and I held his lifeless body. I fear it may be a revelation of what is to come." I closed my eyes, attempting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

"We will defeat this Mavros god, or whatever he calls himself. Your father will not die, Valeria," Melody reassured me, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"I hope you're right. I don't know what I would do without him," I whispered, clinging to the sliver of hope her words provided.

"No one dies," she said with unwavering conviction, a sentiment that offered a glimmer of solace in our darkest hour.

¶•¶

The following morning, I sat outside in solitude, thinking back to the nightmare I had last night.

That nightmare served as a stark reminder of the depth of my love and reliance on my father. He had always been my unwavering support, shielding me from pain and loneliness. In the absence of a mother figure, he had filled both roles, ensuring my brother and I never felt alone. The mere thought of losing him sent tremors of fear through my soul, threatening to consume me.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly became aware of a presence nearby. I looked up to see a pair of legs, and as my gaze traveled upward, my breath caught in my throat. There, standing before me in all his glory, was my mate. Worry and concern filled his eyes, mirroring the turmoil within me.

"Hey," I managed to say, my voice laced with uncertainty. The situation felt awkward, and I struggled to find the right words.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern etched on his face.

"Yes, I am," I replied, forcing a small smile to mask the inner turmoil. "Why do you ask?"

He tilted his head to the side, taking a seat beside me on the bench. My heart raced, and I clasped my hands tightly, trying to steady myself against the overwhelming emotions coursing through me.

"You don't seem alright. But if you say you are, then I'm glad," he responded, his gaze fixed on me. He made a move to leave, but before he could, I reached out and held his hand, a desperate plea to stop him.

"Don't go," I implored, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not? You've made it clear you didn't want me around, so what's changed?" He pulled his hand free, causing me to release my grip. He met my gaze with a raised eyebrow. "If you want to talk to me, come to me yourself."

I watched him walk away, a mixture of pride and frustration emanating from him. He possessed a pride that intrigued me, one I respected. If we were to rule together, that quality would be essential, though an excess of it could become distasteful.

"Wait," I called after him, determined to bridge the distance between us. "Let's talk." I reached out and took hold of his hand once more.

He turned to face me, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression was guarded, and I struggled to interpret the emotions behind his gaze.

"Talk about what?" he questioned, his voice tinged with skepticism.

"About us... about our situation. I don't even know your name, and yet, we are mates."

His eyes bore into mine, a flicker of curiosity mingling with caution. I held his hands firmly, hoping to convey the sincerity of my words.

"Come with me."

¶•¶

He simply stared at me, whilst my mind raced to process the whirlwind of emotions and revelations. My mate stood at the edge of the bed in my bedroom, his gaze fixed on me, anticipation and uncertainty mingling in his eyes. Words eluded him, it seemed.

"Are you not going to say anything?" I finally broke the silence, my voice laced with both impatience and vulnerability. It was clear that I, too, was grappling with my own emotions.

"I have nothing to say to you. I am only here because you said you want to talk about us. I'm listening."

I inhaled deeply, attempting to regain my composure. "Of course. So, what's your name? Which pack do you come from?"

"One question at a time, mate," he replied, offering a small smile to alleviate the tension. "My name is Layton Hunter, and I am a rogue."

I was taken aback, my brows furrowing in confusion. "That doesn't make sense. How can you be in my pack and yet not be a member of the pack?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You wouldn't turn me in now, would you?"

"I... I guess not," I stammered, my uncertainty evident. I pondered the situation for a moment before reaching a decision.

My eyes wandered around the room, and he sensed my hesitation.

"I thought it would be best for us to talk here, but you seem uncomfortable. I don't think anyone would appreciate seeing me in your room, so why don't I take you somewhere else?"

I contemplated his offer, appreciating his concern for appearances and the potential consequences. After all, I was a princess, and I didn't want to bring unnecessary trouble upon myself and him as well.

"Okay," I agreed, deciding to follow him. If getting to know him better required a change of scenery, I was willing to oblige.

As we made our way toward the door, it swung open, revealing two unexpected visitors. Zayne and Melody. They stood in the doorway. Zayne's gaze fell upon Layton, and a low growl rumbled deep within him. Although he lacked the ability to shift into a wolf, his territorial instincts were evident.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his eyes never leaving Layton's figure.

"Zayne, please," I interjected, stepping forward and attempting to diffuse the tension. "He's Layton, my mate."

Zayne's gaze snapped to his me, disbelief etched on his face. "Mate? When did you find your mate? And why is he in your room?"

My voice wavered as I tried to explain, my words filled with a mix of regret and urgency. "I know I shouldn't have let him into my room without speaking to Father first, but I wanted to get to know him. Please, don't tell Father."

Zayne's expression hardened, disappointment evident in his eyes. "Rules are rules," he stated resolutely, turning his back and exiting the room.

My attention shifted to Melody, who wore an apologetic expression. "I actually came to tell you that Aphrodite is here. She's waiting in the study with your father," Melody informed me.

Aphrodite, a close friend and a powerful witch, had been sought to aid in the battle against Mavros. The situation had just become more complicated, and I would soon face the wrath of my father. Time seemed to be working against me, with everything happening at once.

"I'll be there," I replied with a sigh, accepting the weight of the impending confrontation. I turned my gaze back to Layton, my eyes filled with remorse. "I'm sorry," I began, my voice laced with sincerity. "I've gotten you into so much trouble."

He shook his head, refusing to place blame on me. "It's not your fault. I knew the risks, and I still chose to be here. You have nothing to be sorry for. Let's go see your father." He took a step forward and halted. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," I replied, "This is something I must face on my own."

As we exited the room, a guard approached, addressing me. "Princess Valeria, the king requests your presence in his study, along with your mate."

I turned to Layton, fear evident in my eyes. The implications of the guard's words sent a wave of panic through me. "We... We'll be there shortly," I replied, my voice wavering with uncertainty. I turned to him. "You have to come with me."

A sense of foreboding gripped me when he nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

"Gladly."

¶•¶

Sitting across from my father was a woman who bore a striking resemblance to my late mother. Her brunette hair cascaded around her face, and her green eyes held a familiar warmth. Father had shown me photographs of my mother before, and this woman embodied her essence. Standing beside me, Layton wore a confident smirk, seemingly undeterred by the gravity of the situation. Father, however, appeared shaken, his fists clenched tightly as he glared at my mate.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Layton greeted, bowing respectfully.

"Why are you here?" Father demanded, his voice laced with a mix of suspicion and concern.

"I believe I made my purpose clear to you many years ago. I always keep my promises, Alpha," Layton replied calmly.

Years ago? Promises? My mind raced to comprehend the meaning behind Layton's words. I turned to face him, finding a steely determination in his eyes as he locked gazes with my father. The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. Layton possessed red eyes—the telltale sign of a Lycan.

"You're him," Father stated, his voice heavy with both recognition and apprehension. Aphrodite, who had been sitting nearby, swiftly rose to her feet, understanding dawning upon her.

"No, no," Layton countered, shaking his head vehemently. "This body does not belong to me. Layton Hunter is your true mate, but I, Mavros, am the embodiment of your destruction. I want to witness you kill the one destined for you, and believe me, I will make your life a living nightmare."

The room fell into a stunned silence as the weight of his words settled upon us. Confusion and disbelief filled the air. My mind struggled to grasp the magnitude of the revelation unfolding before me.

"What?" I finally managed to utter, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Do not attempt to alter your fate," Mavros continued, his voice dripping with malice. "No one can defy the divine decree set forth by the gods."

Layton closed his eyes and staggered backwards, but I held on to him. I looked at Layton, searching for answers in his eyes that had returned to their normal color. There was a fire burning within him, a determination to protect and defy the darkness that threatened to engulf us. The choice I had to make was clear.

"I refuse to believe in a predetermined destiny," I declared, "No matter what the gods have decreed, I choose my own path."

Aphrodite stepped forward, her presence emanating strength and wisdom. "Valeria is right," she asserted, her voice unwavering. "We have the power to shape our own futures, to challenge the very fabric of destiny."

Father, still grappling with the revelation, spoke, "Valeria, please be cautious. We do not yet fully understand the depths of this danger."

I nodded, acknowledging his concern. "I will tread carefully, Father, but I cannot stand idly by while darkness threatens our lives and the bond I share with Layton. We will face this together."

Layton took my hand in his. "I am here to protect you, Valeria, no matter the cost. Mavros may be a formidable adversary, but we will find a way to overcome him."