Gone

Lancelot and Draco stood face to face, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The weight of disbelief settled heavily upon the Alpha King, a new emotion that he struggled to process. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced before, and it made him question his own memories.

"Who told you this?" Lancelot demanded, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

"The clan's wizard," Draco blurted out hurriedly, sensing the impatience in his brother's tone.

Lancelot couldn't help but chuckle, though it was tinged with a hint of bitterness. "That he-goat? How many times have I warned you not to trust his words? He's a dim wit!"

Draco sighed, his voice trembling slightly. "Our father had a connection with a widow many years ago. He banished her to protect his secret, and she placed a curse on him. The same curse hangs over you as well."

Lancelot's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a wave of solemnity. This was serious, not some jest or prank. How could he be paying for his father's mistakes? Even when he hates his father with every fibre of his being?

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Lancelot considered what this revelation meant for him. He turned his gaze back to Draco, searching for any signs of deception. But Draco's eyes reflected nothing but sincerity and concern.

"Let's assume for a moment that I am cursed," Lancelot said, his voice steady.

"Cursed, indeed," Draco affirmed.

Lancelot's anger rose once again, his mind clouded by the weight of his own ignorance. "And this widow, is she still alive?"

Draco shook his head. "We have done our research. She is no longer among the living."

A surge of frustration swept over Lancelot. "How can we find a solution if she's dead?!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the room.

Frustration began to boil over for Draco as well. "Can't you see beyond your anger?!" he shouted, the veins on his forehead bulging. The Alpha King's rage was tangible, and Draco found himself caught in its grip as Lancelot grabbed him by the neck, lifting him off the ground.

"I am the Alpha! Your ruler! How dare you?!" Lancelot growled, his voice dripping with fury.

Struggling to speak, Draco gasped for air. "Victoria is your fated Luna, and now you have sent her away, thanks to your arrogance."

Lancelot's grip loosened, and he dropped Draco to the ground suddenly, his own strength abandoning him. Collapsing onto the marble floor, he felt as if a fog had lifted from his mind, allowing the clarity of realization to flood in. Memories resurfaced, memories of a night spent with Victoria, memories he had chosen to ignore and suppress.

"You knew about this all along, and you didn't tell me," Lancelot whispered, his voice tinged with accusation.

"I didn't think it was necessary," Draco responded quietly, nursing his bruised throat. "I only wanted to help you."

"At least you could have told me she is my Luna. The clan's true Luna! Now I have lost her." The pain in Lancelot's voice was palpable, a mixture of regret and longing.

"No, you pushed her away," Draco countered, his tone harsh. "I believed that once the child was born, you could sacrifice her and break the curse. Then you could have Victoria all to yourself. Forever. But that chance is gone now, isn't it?"

Lancelot struggled to process everything he had just learned. Victoria. His Luna. He realized he no longer cared about the child; it was a girl, and therefore, useless to him. But his daughter held the key to breaking the curse, and if that was true, he needed to find them both.

"No matter where she runs, I will bring her back," Lancelot growled, determination etched in his voice. Draco chuckled, rising from the floor.

"Do not expect her to be the same," Draco warned, his voice filled with resignation.

Before Lancelot could respond, the door swung open, and Draco left the room, leaving the Alpha King alone with his thoughts.

* * *

As Lancelot gathered his subjects in the Grand Hall, murmurs and whispers filled the air. Draco stood beside Baron, surprise flickering across his face at Draco's unexpected actions. Lancelot approached him, guiding him to a secluded corner of the room.

"I have addressed the royals and my subjects," Lancelot began, his eyes tired and weary. "You are in charge now. I will venture out of our territory, in search of Victoria. I will bring her back and find a way to break this curse."

Draco watched his brother, unfazed by the weight of his responsibilities. Lancelot had expected this response, and a brief nod of understanding was all that passed between them. As Lancelot exited the palace, a silent self-blame settled over him. If only he had been less arrogant with Victoria. If only he had known.

Draco remained behind in the palace, his gaze following Lancelot until he disappeared from sight. Baron approached him, a sinister smile playing on his face.

"So, my Alpha, where do we begin?" Baron asked, his voice dripping with anticipation.

* * *

The harsh wind whipped around Lancelot as he navigated through the icy landscape. He prayed to catch a whiff of Victoria's scent, but luck seemed to elude him. As he traveled farther away from the borders of his clan, he stumbled upon blood-stained footprints. His heart raced, hoping against hope that they belonged to Victoria. But to his disappointment, none matched her scent. Frustrated, he tried to etch her fragrance into his memory, the lone wolf braving the biting cold with ease. He decided to take a momentary pause in his journey, allowing himself a chance to camouflage and regather his strength.

As he settled down, a stealthy movement caught his attention. He knew it was the rogues, and a smile tugged at his lips. They had come, just as he had expected.

He needed this confrontation, it'll bring him the much needed relief.