•Ace's Office•
[Ace's POV]
The heavy oak door groaned in protest as I pushed it open. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink—my scent—was now layered with the lingering, sweet fragrance of Eliana's perfume. I had breathed that scent for decades. It was the smell of stolen hours, of whispered promises. Now it smelled like a requiem.
She was there, curled in the large chair behind my desk as if trying to anchor herself to the last place that felt like ours. When she saw me, a smile touched her lips, a quick, fleeting thing that vanished before it could truly warm her eyes. My own gaze swept the room. Ray was gone. His absence was a small mercy; I didn't have the strength for his judgment on top of executing my own.
"Eliana," I began, my voice rough with the residue of my father's command. I cleared my throat, but the gravel remained. "Where's Ray?"
She leaned back, the chair creaking softly. Her fingers drummed a silent, restless rhythm on the armrest. "He stepped out. Said he had something to take care of." Her eyes didn't leave my face, scouring my features for the verdict. "So," she breathed out, the word hanging between us, charged and heavy. "What did you and Alpha King Raymond talk about?"
A lead weight settled in my gut. I dragged a hand through my hair, feeling the phantom pull of the crown. "We talked about Ovelia," I admitted. The name was a key turned in a lock deep within me. My wolf didn't just stir; it rose to attention, a low, possessive rumble in my blood that was both thrilling and shaming. It wanted. It had already accepted. I focused on a crack in the stone floor, unable to look at the woman my human soul loved while the beast in my blood betrayed her. "Eliana, I need some time," I said. The words tasted like ash—dry, bitter, and choking.
The silence was a void. I forced myself to look up.
All the color had drained from her face. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with a shock so profound it stole the air from my lungs. "What?" she whispered. Her voice cracked on the syllable, and she pressed her lips together as if holding the rest of her words behind a dam.
The man in me, the one who had built a life with her for decades, wanted to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. But the Prince, the pawn in a political game, and the wolf, tethered to another by a chain of instinct, held me rigid. "I need to… to figure things out," I managed. It was a coward's paraphrase for 'I am being torn in two.'
She stood abruptly, crossing the space between us. Her hand came up, her palm warm and soft against my cheek—a touch that was my definition of solace. It took everything I had not to crumble into it. "Is this about Ovelia?" she asked. Her voice was low, but a core of steel ran beneath the devastation.
"Partly," I confessed, the admission a self-inflicted wound. "But it's more than that. I…" I finally met her gaze, willing her to see the civil war raging in my soul. "I'm not sure what I feel anymore." It was the truth.My heart, my human heart, was hers. It beat for her. But my wolf… my wolf was a stranger wearing my skin. It did not care about decades of friendship and ten years of promises. It only knew Ovelia's scent, and it wanted. It ached.
She searched my eyes, and I saw the tears she refused to shed. Her jaw was tight. "If you need time, take it," she said, her voice impossibly steady. "But don't let that time be spent falling for someone else before you even know what you want." She was drawing a battle line with a general's calm, fighting for a war I was already losing.
She leaned in, and her lips met mine. It was a kiss of memory, of a thousand yesterdays. I kissed her back, my hands trembling as they cupped her face. I kissed her like I was memorizing her—the taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath, the way her eyelashes brushed my cheek. I kissed her like I was saying goodbye to a decade of my life.
When she pulled away, her breath was shallow. "Promise me, Ace." Her voice was low and held the weight of an oath. "If you find yourself falling for Ovelia, you will tell me. Then we will end this properly."
The command was my anchor. It was the one piece of honor I could cling to in the face of this biological mutiny. A promise I could make to the man, not the beast. "I promise," I said. The word felt like a stone dropped into deep water—heavy, final, and sinking. It was a commitment to fight, to resist the pull, to champion my chosen love over my destined bond for as long as I humanly could.
A faint, sorrowful smile touched her lips. "I'll be back later," she whispered. She turned, her spine straight, her shoulders squared against the world, and walked out without looking back.
The door clicked shut. The silence she left behind was a physical pressure.
I was alone.
The conflict did not quiet; it roared. My heart throbbed with a raw, human agony for Eliana. But beneath it, my wolf pushed forward, impatient and single-minded. It was not confused. It was certain. The lingering trace of Ovelia's scent on my clothes was not a memory; to my wolf, it was a claim. It was a pull toward a possession I never asked for, a connection that felt less like love and more like fate's shackle.
I had made a promise to Eliana. A promise of honesty. But as I stood there, a terrifying thought uncoiled in the depths of my mind, a thought that belonged to neither the man nor the wolf entirely, but to the desperate space between them:
Could Ovelia make me fall for her?
The question wasn't about love. It was about surrender. Could her simple presence, the fact of her being my fated mate, erode a decade of devotion? Was my love for Eliana a fortress, or was it just a sandcastle before the inevitable tide of my nature?
My duty had married me to a symbol of peace. My wolf had claimed a possession. And I was trapped in the middle, a king's son, a lover, and a beast, watching the woman I loved walk away while silently fearing that the woman I was bound to wouldn't even have to fight to win. She just had to be. And that terrified me more than anything.
The two halves of my soul still tearing each other apart, I knew the battle was just beginning. And I was terrified of which side would win.
•Palace hallway•
[Eliana's POV]
The cool, dim silence of the hallway closed around me like a shroud. The moment the office door shut, the breath I had been holding rushed out in a shaky gasp. I leaned my back against the cold stone wall, its unyielding solidity the only thing holding me up.
I knew this day would come. I had known it when his wolf rejected my scent. I had just refused to see it.
Both of us understood our love was a forbidden thing, a secret kept in shadows. Alpha King Raymond had said it. Ray had sneered it. But we pushed on anyway. We were reckless, convinced our bond was stronger than tradition, stronger than the will our wolf.
We made promises in the dark, vows that we didn't care about destined mates as long as we had each other. But now… now I see it. The conflict in his eyes. His wolf accepted Ovelia. It recognizes her. And how can I fight a pull written in his very blood?
The thought of him falling for her—really falling for her—sends a sharp, physical pain through my chest, so acute I have to press a hand over my heart. My eyes burn, but the tears won't fall. They're trapped behind a wall of grim acceptance.
And yet… beneath the ache, something inside me—something ancient and unforgiving—was still. It was not relief; it was acceptance. My wolf knew what my heart refused to accept: the bond was sacred. And I had been fighting a war that fate had already won. The greater consequences of being selfish.
I push myself away from the wall, forcing my feet to move. Each step is an effort. I want to trust him. I have to believe that the man I love, the man who promised me a future, will keep his word. But the fear is a cold knot in my stomach. Can I really let him go if he asks? Can I give him up without shattering into a thousand pieces?
The hallway seems to stretch on forever, a stone path leading away from the man I love and toward an uncertain, lonely future. I wrap my arms around myself, but no amount of pressure can ease the ache.
I just have to wait. And hope that his promise is stronger than fate.
[Afternoon]
•Ovelia's Room•
[Ovelia's POV]
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling like leaves in a storm. Lunch had been hours ago, and the quiet of the afternoon left too much room for my mind to wander. A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
"Lady Ovelia, it's time to tend to your wounds," Ann said as she entered, her voice gentle and reassuring. She carried a tray of bandages and salves, her movements calm and precise.
I sat up slowly, wincing as the movement tugged at the gashes on my left arm. Ann approached, her hands steady as she began to clean the wounds. Her touch was firm yet soothing, and I felt a wave of comfort wash over me.
I watched Ann's hands move with quiet precision. The silence was comfortable, but my mind was not. "Ann," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "What is love?"
Her hands stilled. For a moment, she didn't speak. Then she looked up at me, something unreadable flickering in her dark eyes. "For me, love is like a blade in the dark." Her voice was quiet, deliberate. "It cuts through the shadows. It can wound you—but it can also carve a path where there was none." She paused, tilting her head slightly. "Love can also be like moonlight. It illuminates your path, even when everything seems unclear."
I frowned, trying to shape her words into something I could hold onto. "A blade? That sounds… dangerous." I hesitated. "And moonlight? How can something so intangible be so powerful?"
Ann resumed her work, her fingers gentle as she applied salve to my wounds. "That's the first thing you need to understand. A blade doesn't care if you're ready for it. It cuts through the shadows—through the lies you tell yourself, through the walls you've built." Her voice softened, carrying a warmth that surprised me. "It finds you, whether you want it to or not. And moonlight?" She glanced up, meeting my eyes. "It's more than a feeling. It's a connection. An instinct. Like the bond within a pack. It draws you close to others and weaves something unbreakable between you."
Her gaze held mine. "Loving deeply means opening yourself up to pain. It's like a storm—it can leave chaos in its wake, but it also brings growth."
I swallowed, my voice barely a whisper. "So why take the risk?"
"Because the joy that comes after the storm is unmatched." Her conviction was unwavering. "Love fills your heart, makes you feel alive. It's worth every vulnerability, every scar."
I furrowed my brows, still unsure. "How do you know when you love someone?"
"It's in the little things," Ann replied, her gaze steady and warm. "Wanting to protect them, sharing your secrets, feeling their happiness like it's your own. It's instinctual."
I thought of Ace. The way he made me feel. I hadn't felt those things with him—not in that way. Which meant I probably didn't love him. The realization landed somewhere between relief and unease.
"But what if they don't love you back?" I asked. My mind drifted to Ace—to the way he had kissed Eliana, the way he had looked at her across the breakfast table. What if he never looked at me that way?
"That's a possibility," Ann acknowledged, her tone softening. "But love is selfless. Sometimes, just caring for someone deeply is enough. We learn, even from heartache."
Her words settled over me, heavy and warm. "It sounds… overwhelming," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"It can be," she said, a gentle smile curving her lips. "Like transforming under the full moon—exhilarating yet terrifying. But without it, life feels hollow, empty."
I nodded slowly, her words resonating deep within me. "So love is both chaos and beauty?"
"Exactly," Her eyes lit up. "It teaches us about ourselves—our strengths, our weaknesses. It's the most vital part of being alive."
I sighed, the weight of it all pressing against my chest. "I think I understand… but it sounds so complicated."
"It is," Her voice carried no apology. "But that's what makes it real. The chaos, the fear, the wondering. It's not a journey you plan—it's a storm you survive. And when you come out the other side, you know what you're made of." She finished bandaging my arm and stepped back, brushing her hands together. "By the way, it's done."
"Thank you, Ann," I said, standing and wrapping my arms around her in a grateful hug. As I held her, I felt a bittersweet ache in my arm, but I could move it a little more now. Maybe understanding love was the first step to healing my heart, too.
"Lady Ovelia, aren't we going to bake a snack for Sir Ace?" Ann asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
I hesitated, then shook my head. "Not just yet. But, Ann, could I request a mini fridge in this room? Since you're not allowed to join me in the dining area, I thought it might be nice to enjoy snacks here together when we bake. Plus, any leftovers can be stored in the fridge."
Ann's face lit up with excitement. "Really, Lady Ovelia? Of course! I'll tell the head maid right away."
"And if it's just the two of us, could you call me Ovelia instead of Lady? It feels more friendly that way," I added, hoping to bridge the gap between us.
Ann hesitated, concern flickering in her eyes. "But, Lady…"
"Maybe you won't mind if I say it's an order?" I replied, my tone playful yet sincere. "I want you to see me as a friend, not just your mistress, "
In truth, I had never had a friend in my life, but I had always longed for that connection, a feeling nurtured by the tales I read as a child.
She smiled a warm, genuine smile at me before wrapping her arms around me in a brief embrace, saying, "Okay, Ovelia, but only in this room."
I hugged her back, the warmth of the moment enveloping us. After a few seconds, we reluctantly pulled away from each other.
"Ovelia, I'm going to the maid's office to speak with the head maid about your request," Ann said, her tone tinged with urgency and happiness.
"Alright, thank you, Ann," I replied, feeling grateful.
With one last beaming smile, Ann exited my room. As soon as she left, I also stepped out, making my way to the palace terrace. I needed to breathe in the fresh air; I'd been cooped up in my room for too long.
As I walked, memories flooded my mind, bringing the familiarity of Ace's office closer with each step.
Eliana approached. When her eyes met mine, a sun-bright smile spread across her face—a stark contrast to the coldness in her eyes. She leaned in close, her voice a whisper that cut like a knife: "Loser." A soft, mocking laugh followed. The word stung, but I brushed it off without breaking stride, continuing toward the terrace.
•Palace Terrace•
The view from the terrace took my breath away. From this height, I could see almost the entire expanse of the Silverhowl Kingdom. The small houses and shops looked like tiny specks in the distance, and the figures moving below were indistinguishable—human or werewolf, it didn't matter. They all seemed to live in harmony, their lives intertwined in ways I couldn't fully understand.
I leaned against the railing, the warm glow of the afternoon sun bathing the kingdom in golden light. For the first time, I felt a longing to step outside, to explore the world beyond the palace walls. But fear gripped me—what if another werewolf was waiting to harm me?
I looked up at the clouds, my mind drifting back to the events of last night. It felt like a second life, as if I had been given another chance after narrowly escaping death at the hands of that black werewolf. I had run from the pain inflicted by my so-called family, only to find myself in a palace, married to a man who loved someone else. But maybe it was time to accept that this was my life now.
Even though my husband didn't love me and I had almost died, living in this palace wasn't so bad. They protected me because I was one of the humans who symbolized peace between humans and werewolves. I had Ann as my personal maid and friend, I ate delicious food, and I had expensive clothes and accessories. As for Ace… I wondered if we could just be friends. A part of me didn't want to compete with Eliana, but Ace was my husband. It didn't feel right to give up on him so easily. My head hurt just thinking about it.
I reached my hand toward the sky, as if trying to grasp the clouds. Maybe I should just go with the flow and let fate guide me.
"What are you doing here?"
I turned at the unexpected voice and found Ace standing near me, his expression a mixture of surprise and… something else. A hint of something softer than I'd seen before.
He reached for my hair, but I instinctively stepped back, a reaction that caught him off guard.
He sighed deeply as if the world's weight rested on his shoulders. "This morning, father spoke to me. He reprimanded me for what happened to you."
The weight of his words pressed down between us. I could see the conflict churning behind his eyes—the guilt, the frustration, the quiet self-blame he was trying so hard to hide.
I turned away, letting my gaze drift over the rooftops and streets beyond the palace walls. The silence stretched, filled with everything we weren't saying.
He stepped closer, his hand settling gently on my shoulder. Not possessive. Not demanding. Just… warm. A quiet anchor. "Why didn't you bring me snacks?" His tone was teasing, but his eyes held a softness that caught me off guard.
"My left arm hurts," I said, a small excuse wrapped in truth.
He studied my face for a moment. "You've been staring at the kingdom for a while. Want to get out of the palace?" His voice dropped, almost hesitant, as if he wasn't sure I'd say yes.
I turned to face him fully, searching his eyes. "Really?" My heart quickened. "But I don't have any money…"
A smile spread across his face—real, unguarded, reaching his eyes. "It's on me." He gently cupped my face. "Isn't that how it should be? The guy pays for the date."
I blinked, warmth creeping up my neck. "Date? I think you mean a friendly date." I tugged at his hand, teasing.
"A friendly date," he agreed, his voice laced with a hint of something deeper. The uncertainty remained, but for the first time, a flicker of hope ignited within me.
I led him out of the palace, his hand warm in mine.
"That's not the way," he chuckled, tugging me gently in the right direction.
I stopped, my face burning as I realized my mistake. I glanced at him, letting a small, genuine smile slip through. His cheeks flushed a soft pink I hadn't seen before. He looked away, then back, as if he was not sure which direction to face.