The torches flickered against the stone walls of the throne room. King Matei slammed his fist onto the armrest, making the gold inlay rattle.
"You said she was dead!" he roared. His gaze cut to Sage, his son. "Why is she still alive!"
Sage swallowed, his hands clenched at his sides. "I… I saw the mother and the baby fall off the cliff, Father. Nobody ever survives that place."
"I should've chosen Stefan instead. He wouldn't have failed."
Sage's head snapped up, his hands curled slowly at his sides.
"We can't only be blaming Sage when Stefan was literally there and doing nothing as well." Sage's mom said, stepping between them.
Matei's eyes glinted with cold fury. "Find her at once. She must be eliminated. Nothing can stop me from ruling all three mystics. If you dare fail this time, I'll forget that youre my son and have you executed. "
"I'll... make sure it's done," Sage said. His words came out tight.
Sage stepped into the corridor, his shoulders stiff as he walked.
"Stop." He halted at the sound of his mother's voice.
She walked up to him, adjusting the sleeve of his coat like nothing had happened.
"You let him get under your skin," she said quietly.
Sage scoffed. "He compared me to Stefan."
"Stefan is nothing!!"
Sage glanced at her. "That's not what Father thinks."
A faint smile touched her lips, cold and controlled.
"Your father thinks with fear. That's his weakness." She leaned closer.
"Do not fail again," she whispered. "Or you will prove him right."
Sage's jaw tightened.
"I won't."
"Good." She smiled, "Because when you take that throne, there must be no doubt that you're unfit for it."
Sage found Stefan in the eastern garden, kneeling among night-blooming specimens. He hummed under his breath as he lifted a loose vine and tied it gently to a stake.
"Still pretending to be alive?" Sage's lip curled as he looked at the plant. He tore off a leaf and let it fall between his fingers.
"You're unliving as well," Stefan
"I might have a dead cell but my brain still works perfectly. Once Dad hands over the throne to me, you'll regret wasting your time on flowers." Sage sneered.
Stefan finally looked up from the plant, "Good luck with that," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Then he turned back to the seedlings, adjusting a leaf as if his brother wasn't even there.
Sage let out a sharp breath, his gaze lingering on Stefan for a second too long.
"Unbelievable," he muttered.
He turned on his heel and walked off.
---
Back in the Nightshade pack
The morning air felt cool against Romilda's skin as she walked beside her mother. The narrow path stretched ahead, lined with small houses and early traders setting up their stalls.
Her mother adjusted the cloth bag on her arm while Romilda walked quietly for a while, her thoughts circling back to the book.
She hesitated, then spoke.
"Mom… have you ever heard of the Heiress of the three mystics?"
Her mother glanced at her, then looked ahead again. "That's an old myth."
They stepped past a woman arranging vegetables on a wooden table.
"Centuries ago," her mother continued, "People said a girl was born with the power of a wolf, a vampire, and a magician. She caused chaos wherever she went. No one even knows how she died."
Romilda slowed a little, her gaze dropping.
"But the book said she could protect the whole realm," she said.
Her mother gave a small shrug. "Power like that never ends well. It always leads to destruction."
Romilda stayed quiet for a moment, then asked, "Is it always one girl? What if the moon goddess chooses someone new each time?"
Her mother stopped walking.
She turned and looked at Romilda, her brows drawn together. "Why are you asking about this?"
Romilda forced a small smile. "I'm just curious."
"Stories are stories," she said. "Don't get lost in them."
Romilda nodded, but her thoughts refused to settle.
If the legend was real, what did it mean for her?
They walked deeper into the market.
The noise grew louder with traders calling out prices. The smell of fresh herbs and fruit filled the air.
Romilda stayed close to her mother, as she priced groceries she needed at home.
At a flower stall nearby, a group of girls leaned in close, fingers brushing over bright blooms.
"These are perfect for Lisa's wedding." one of them said, picking up a cluster of white flowers.
Another laughed. "I'm certain she's going to be the best Luna we've ever had."
Romilda's chest tightened at their words.She kept a still face, pretending their words never reached her.
Her mother noticed. She reached out and took Romilda's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"You don't need a mate like Martin," she said softly. "I'm certain the moon goddess will give you something better."
Romilda forced a small nod, but the ache stayed.
Silence stretched between them as they walked.
Romilda glanced at her and began to ask. "Why don't you have a mate?"
Her mother stopped walking.
For a second, she said nothing.
Romilda looked up at her, studying her face.
"I don't need a mate," her mother hesitated "because I have you and that's enough for me."
Her voice sounded calm, but Romilda knew it was not the truth.
Maybe her mother had been rejected or maybe her mate had died.
The questions pressed against her lips but she swallowed them.
Her mother would speak when she was ready.
A chill crept up her spine.
Romilda slowed. She scanned the crowd but found no-one.
She frowned.
"What's wrong?" her mother asked, her voice tight.
Romilda shook her head and forced a small smile. "It's nothing."
She nudged her mother forward, urging her to keep walking.
Still, she glanced over her shoulder once more.
The feeling didn't leave.l