Edward: I couldn’t keep the thoughts from swirling in my head as I sat there in my chambers, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. The weight of it all pressed down on me—Ethan’s refusal to marry the Vampire Princess, the looming war, and the uncertainty that gnawed at my very soul. Ethan had always been stubborn, but this… this was something else entirely. I’d done everything to try and make him see reason. We had no choice, I kept telling myself. There was too much at stake. But Ethan didn’t seem to care. All he cared about was the throne, and that was something I wasn’t willing to relinquish. He may have been the first to take the throne, but I had worked for this. I had earned this place. I was the first born Alpha King, and nothing, not even Ethan’s refusal to honor his responsibilities, would take that from me. But the people… they feared a war. They would not tolerate it. Every day felt like a countdown to something catastrophic. I could feel it in my bones—t
Lianna: I sat at the small table by the window, nursing a cup of tea as the soft aroma of the leaves filled the air. Ingrid was seated across from me, her lively chatter cutting through the silence. I could feel the remnants of last night's emotions still tugging at my heart. I couldn't shake off how I had acted at the restaurant. I hated that I had lost control. Edward had been nothing but patient and I hadn't even cared. “I feel so guilty, Ingrid,” I said, pushing my tea cup away and resting my chin in my hands. “I shouldn’t have acted that way to Edward. I was out of line. He’s got so much on his plate, and I added it.” Ingrid, ever the practical one, gave a dismissive wave. “Lianna, you’re overthinking. Edward knows what’s going on. He’ll understand when the time is right for you to apologize. Right now, you’ve got to let him deal with his pack matters. He’s been buried in that stuff ever since last night, so you’re better off letting him be.” I let out a long sigh,
Edward: The elders had left hours ago, and I sat in the grand meeting hall, watching as the firelight cast shadows against the walls. My mind rallied around with everything we had discussed—the war, Ethan's refusal, the impossible choices ahead. Each thought was like a heavy stone pressing against my chest. I leaned back in the chair, running a hand through my hair. Thinking won’t solve anything, I told myself. The answers wouldn’t magically appear no matter how long I sat here and brooded. What I needed was clarity, and perhaps… a distraction. Lianna’s face came to mind almost instantly, the memory of her tears and avoidance from last night made me feel bad. I’d given her space, knowing it was what she needed, but now I wondered if it had been the right thing to do. Decision made, I stood, adjusting my jacket as I strode purposefully out of the hall. The palace corridors were quiet, save for the occasional echo of my boots against the marble floors. When I reached her cha
Lianna: The feeling of freedom and joy coursing through me as I rode the horse today was something I hadn’t felt in ages. It was like I’d reconnected with a part of myself I’d forgotten existed. The wind in my hair, the rhythmic gallop beneath me, and the sheer exhilaration of it all had lifted my spirits in a way nothing else could. Alistair had been unexpectedly good company too, his knowledge of the trails and lighthearted banter making the ride all the more enjoyable. He’d gone out of his way to ensure Ingrid and I were comfortable, and I couldn’t help but notice his attentiveness—his eyes lingering just a second too long, his smile a bit too warm. As we rode back, Ingrid leaned toward me, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “He likes you, you know.” I shot her a sideways glance, feigning indifference. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, come on, Lianna. The man practically lit up every time you looked his way. You must have no
Edward: The days had a peculiar way of stretching and condensing, leaving me caught somewhere between my duties as Alpha King and this strange sense of distraction that Lianna had recently become. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what I told myself. Watching her grow into her role as Luna, seeing her ease into the people’s lives with each passing day, was oddly satisfying. She was finding her footing, though in the most unorthodox ways. It started with horse riding. It seemed like every day now, she was at the stables. I’d hear her laugh echo across the meadow or see her returning with Alistair and Ingrid, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration. I’d watch from my study window, the way her energy seemed infectious. Even the stable hands were more cheerful since her daily visits had become a routine. And she seemed to revel in the attention she was getting. She would show them tricks on the horse, then ride off with pride. Sometimes, she would jump into it with such daun
Lianna: The faint tug at my scalp as the maid removed the last pin from my hair brought me back to the present, but my thoughts remained disturbed with Edward’s words from earlier. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my hair spilling like dark rivers over my shoulders, and wondered for the hundredth time what had caused his brashness. His tone wasn’t just firm—it was biting, almost accusing. I turned the conversation over and over in my mind, but every attempt to make sense of it felt like chasing shadows. Was he jealous of Alistair? The idea was absurd, yet it made slight sense why he would. Or perhaps he didn’t want me spending so much time away from the palace, giving people a reason to gossip. That seemed more like him—calculated, always concerned about appearances and the Pack’s perception. I sighed, brushing my fingers through my loose hair. “Enough of this,” I muttered under my breath. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything, and ho
Lianna: "I'm surprised to see her here," someone whispered. "Isn't she supposed to be doing something else? Like looking pretty for him in bed? I heard she's really good with bed sports." A laugh followed and I blocked out the voices. I wasn't going to let them get to me. The way they stared at me was almost suffocating, but I refused to let it show. My chin remained high, my expression neutral, though every fiber of my being felt the reluctant acknowledgment the people offered me. They bowed, stiffly and without warmth, their respect given not to me, but to my title—Luna of the Pack. I told myself I didn’t care. They could stare, whisper, and judge all they wanted. It wouldn’t change the fact that I stood here, beside Edward, where I intended to remain for a very long time. This was my place, whether they liked it or not. Still, the coldness in their gazes pricked at my resolve. I noticed the subtle way they avoided meeting my eyes, how their murmurs seemed to quiet whene
Edward: The memory of her smile haunted me well into the night. How she had gone from sharp-edged and defensive to bright-eyed and teasing during dinner was something I couldn’t unravel. Lianna was becoming unpredictable in ways I couldn’t predict or control, and the realization left me restless. Throughout dinner, she kept the conversation lively, steering away from anything remotely serious. Her jokes had been sharp and well-timed, pulling laughter from me even when I’d planned to remain stoic. She had a way of disarming me, of peeling back the discomfort I didn’t realize I was holding. I wanted to apologize for how brash I’d been hours ago at the court and how I should have spoken to her with respect. I wanted to apologise for what I said about her riding with Alistair, but just as I was gathering the courage to broach the subject, she’d risen from her seat, her chair scraping softly against the floor. “It’s been a long day,” she said, yawning and offering me a polite s
Lianna: The morning light was shy, barely bleeding through the velvet curtains when I cracked my eyes open. I didn’t need a clock to know what day it was. My chest already felt like it was caving in. The air hung heavy, saturated with that stale chill that often preceded sorrow. A mourning fog rolled outside our window like some prophetic omen, brushing ghostlike tendrils across the glass. Edward hadn’t moved beside me. His breath rose and fell in shallow waves, his hand still loosely curled around mine like he feared I’d disappear in my sleep. I shifted slowly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. We were going to banish his brother. I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, the fabric swishing softly against my bare skin. My toes hit the floor with a shiver, the marble tiles beneath me as merciless as the decisions we had to make today. My robe hung at the edge of the armchair, still draped from the night before. I sl
Freya: The night felt too loud for how quiet it was. Crickets whined in the grass like tiny, angry violins, and the wind kept slipping through the cracked wooden shutters, brushing cool air against my bare arms like an unwelcome ghost. I was lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers I’d been chasing in circles. My bed creaked with the slightest shift, the old mattress groaning beneath the weight of my body. I shouldn't have come back here. I shouldn’t have returned to this house. I shouldn’t have ever listened to her. My chest ached. That tight, slow burn of regret that started somewhere beneath my ribs and dragged itself up to my throat like it had claws. I reached up and rubbed the heel of my palm against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that had already found their way to my pillow. My face was warm, wet. I could taste salt. My breath shuddered on the exhale. “I didn’t want this,” I whispered into the room, voice barely audible over
Edward: The eggs Tarantino made were, as he warned me, an absolute disaster. But the bread was warm, and it was good enough to make me forget about the burnt rubber taste of the eggs. We ate in silence, only the scraping of silverware and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air. My mind wasn’t exactly on the food anyway; it was stuck on the conversation we’d had earlier. Tarantino was right, of course. Everything happens for a reason. I could hear the words repeating in my head, like a stubborn echo bouncing off the walls. But as much as I wanted to believe him, that sentiment did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. Nothing could change the fact that I was sending my brother into exile, to a life without the Pack, without me, without any of the privileges that came with being a royal. But I couldn’t just let the sorrow flood over me, not in front of Tarantino. Not in front of the only person who still seemed to see me for more than just my title. So I swallowe
Edward: The drive was long, and Harvey wouldn’t stop humming that off-key tune under his breath like he was trying to win some invisible award for irritation. I didn’t say anything because well, silence stretching between us felt safer than opening my mouth and letting all the tangled thoughts spill out. My jaw ached from clenching it too tight. My nails had dug half-moons into my palm by the time we pulled into the small, quiet Pack territory that felt like the world had forgotten it. “I remember this place being a dusty excuse of a town,” I muttered, eyes flicking over the paved roads and fresh buildings. “Now look at it. They have actual sidewalks. I should’ve sent Ethan here for humility training.” Harvey chuckled but didn’t comment. Smart choice. It’d been years since I last came here. I was just a boy, clinging to my father’s hand while he laughed and pointed at the bakery with the awful scones and the house with the broken weather vane that somehow never got
Lianna: The palace had never been this quiet. Not even during the former Alpha's father’s funeral, when the halls were draped in black silk and everyone spoke in whispers like mourning had a volume limit. No. This silence was different. It hung in the air like a mist, curling around the columns, sliding under doors, seeping into my skin like cold. I sat on the balcony, elbows on the marble balustrade, chin resting against the back of my hand. My eyes drifted somewhere beyond the courtyard, past the rustling hedges and the guards stationed like statues, to a place I couldn’t name. The sky was pale and slow today, the clouds dragging their feet like even they couldn’t be bothered to hurry. A soft breeze combed through my hair, lifting strands across my face, and I didn’t bother to tuck them behind my ear. Ingrid was beside me, her legs propped up on the ornate table, scrolling through her phone like it held the cure to this numbness
Ethan: The moment Edward’s footsteps faded from the dungeon, I felt my chest constrict. I was alone. And not in the usual way where I sought solitude; this time, I felt like I was suffocating. I collapsed to my knees, the cold, damp floor seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My tears came in torrents, hot and bitter, an unforgiving reminder of everything I had lost, everything I had thrown away. There was no one left to blame but myself. I didn’t even care how pathetic I looked at this moment. All I wanted was the sting of reality to fade, even if only for a second so I could catch a sense of monetary relief. The memories of my life before all this pain before Freya, before Lianna, before the twisted path I had walked flashed through my mind like a parade of ghosts. I remembered how everything had been so simple back then. It was supposed to be me and Lianna, always. We had a bond, a bond that nothing could break, or so
Edward: The echo of my boots against the marble hallway was all I could hear as I stepped out of the study, my hand still clenched from how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the desk moments ago. My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I told myself I wasn’t going to interfere. I promised Lianna I wouldn’t. But promises made in the eye of a storm rarely stand when the wind changes. And gods, it changed. The moment the elders started screaming over each other like a pack of senile hounds, all clamoring for blood, I had to shut them up. I didn’t even remember raising my voice until the silence hit. Until they all turned to me, and I, like a damn fool, spoke the decree. Now my baby brother would be banished to the Drekavac Hollow, and somehow, my voice had sealed it. The air grew colder the deeper I went, but I barely noticed. My fingers brushed the stone walls out of
Edward: My journey from the courtroom to my study was a tumultuous one. I fought back tears I hadn't shed in years. Hell, I fought the urge to turn on my feed and go back to the court to change my mind over what I had said concerning Ethan, but that was futile. The judgement had been made and as bad as it made me feel, I had to be rational. I had to embrace reality and see Ethan for who he really was beyond my brother. I slammed the door behind me harder than I meant to. The sound echoed off the tall bookshelves like a gavel dropped by the gods. I’d always found comfort in this room. In its silence and its order, but today it felt more like a cage than a sanctuary. I could easily just step back out and take a walk or even go horse riding, but I knew it wasn't going to take away that terrible misery that was keeping me company right now. Which meant running away from whatever I was feeling wasn't the cure to my pain. I ran a hand through my hair, pacing a
Lianna: The air in the hall was suffocating, tight, pressing against every corner of my skin like the heat of a blacksmith's forge. The walls of the courtroom seemed to close in the moment I stepped in, hand in hand with Edward. I could feel his grip tighten slightly, almost imperceptibly, as our eyes fell on the man seated at the center of the gathering. Ethan. His gaze landed on us and didn’t waver. But I saw it. That subtle shift in his posture. The way his spine straightened, like the presence of our united front had finally forced him to understand that his days of immunity were over. Good. I wanted him to feel that fear. I wanted him to sit with it. We took our seats as murmurs spread through the chamber. Some voices were hushed, others hissed outright with emotion. The elders looked especially tense. Some wwr already whispering amongst themselves, robes rustling as they fidgeted, eyes darting between one another. An elder rose. He was tall and lean, his