The forest was quiet, too quiet for Leon's liking.
The air smelled of moss, damp soil, and heartbreak. He stood there, staring at the empty space where Mia's voice had echoed only moments ago. Her words still cut through him like a blade.
"I don't love him. I hate him."
Every syllable replayed in his head, cold and sharp, sinking deeper into his chest. His wolf, Xavier, growled restlessly inside him, his voice raw and trembling.
"She didn't mean it, Leon. She couldn't have—"
Leon clenched his jaw, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned pale. "Enough," he muttered aloud, his voice hoarse. "She said it. That's all that matters."
Xavier's growl rose louder, a sound of grief more than anger. "You're lying to yourself. You felt her fear. You know she's not safe."
Leon shut his eyes. His heart thudded painfully, his whole body trembling as he forced the bond down. He had promised himself not to feel. Not to care. He had already made enough mistakes—one kiss, one moment of weakness that had thrown both their worlds into chaos.
And yet, even now, the bond pulsed faintly in his chest. Her scent still lingered — faint lavender and moonlight, drifting with the breeze.
He turned sharply and began walking away. Each step felt heavier than the last.
Raul found him halfway down the path.
"Leon!" Raul's voice echoed. He jogged forward, worry etched on his face. "Where have you been? You look like hell."
Leon didn't answer. His steps didn't slow.
"Leon," Raul said again, grabbing his shoulder. "Don't tell me this has to do with the girl. The council's been—"
Leon's eyes flickered, gold flashing through the blue. Raul immediately let go.
"She's nothing to me," Leon said quietly. His tone was flat, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. "Nothing."
Raul hesitated. He wanted to argue, but he had known Leon long enough to know that sometimes silence was safer. So he only nodded.
"Right," he said softly. "Nothing."
Leon walked on, his expression blank, but inside, Xavier howled in despair. The sound echoed through his mind like thunder.
When he returned to the academy, the halls were empty. The night guards bowed as he passed, their eyes full of fear. Everyone knew not to speak when the Lycan Prince looked like this. He was darkness wearing a crown.
He went straight to the headmistress's office. The door swung open with a push.
Headmistress Orla stood behind her desk, startled.
"Your Highness—"
"Why haven't you sent for her?" Leon demanded. His voice was cold but calm, and that made it worse. "Her suspension was lifted. She should have returned days ago."
Orla swallowed. "I… I sent a message. Two, actually. There was no reply. I assumed—"
"You assumed wrong." His eyes glowed faintly gold. "Send another. Now."
Orla's hands shook as she obeyed. "Yes, Your Highness."
When he turned to leave, his reflection in the window caught his eye — a haunted prince with bloodshot eyes. For the first time in years, Leon didn't recognize himself.
Across the valley, in the small wooden house surrounded by moonflowers, Laura Ashford sat by the window, her hands trembling around a cup of tea she hadn't touched.
Elder Rowan stood near the door, his cloak draped loosely over his shoulders, his silver hair shining in the dim light.
"She's late," Laura whispered. "They said she should've reached by now. Rowan, what if something happened to her?"
Rowan's eyes closed for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought. "The winds are quiet tonight," he murmured. "That's not a good sign."
Laura's grip tightened. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Rowan said slowly, "that the air carries no scent of her. No trace. As if… someone has hidden her completely."
Laura stood, panic rising. "Hidden her? Who would—"
"Calm yourself, Laura," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "Panic won't help us find her."
"I can't calm down!" she snapped, tears filling her eyes. "She's my daughter, Rowan. My baby! I told her she was safe, that everything was fine, and now—"
Her words broke off into sobs. Rowan's face softened. He stepped closer and placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
"She's strong," he said quietly. "And she carries more than you realize. Have faith, Laura."
Laura turned to him, her eyes red and desperate. "Faith won't bring her back."
Rowan didn't argue. Instead, he looked out through the window at the glowing crescent moon. Deep down, even he could feel it — a strange pulse under the earth, as if the moon itself was holding its breath.
Something was happening.
Something ancient.
Mia woke to the sound of dripping water.
Her head throbbed. Her wrists ached where the ropes dug into her skin. The room was cold, lit only by the faint glow of a single torch on the wall.
She tried to move, but her legs were bound too.
Her throat felt dry, her lips cracked.
Footsteps echoed outside.
Then the door creaked open.
Alpha Darius stepped in, followed by Yaqut — tall, sharp-eyed, his face expressionless. Darius's eyes gleamed like molten amber in the dim light.
"So," he said, his deep voice rumbling through the silence. "This is the girl who caused all this trouble."
Mia lifted her head, glaring through the pain. "Why am I here?"
Darius smiled slightly, though it never reached his eyes. "Because, little human, some debts need to be settled."
Yaqut said nothing, only folded his arms and stood by the door. His gaze was cold, unreadable.
Darius circled her slowly. "You know, my daughter was supposed to be Luna. But then you appeared. Weak, fragile, unwanted—and yet somehow, the prince looked your way. Strange, isn't it?"
Mia's jaw tightened. "I never asked for any of this."
He chuckled. "That's what makes it so entertaining."
The door opened again.
Rachel entered, her blonde hair loose over her shoulders, her eyes bright with triumph. She was dressed neatly, like she hadn't done anything wrong.
"Father," she said sweetly. "I see she's awake."
"Rachel…" Mia whispered, her voice breaking. "Why? What did I ever do to you?"
Rachel's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You existed," she said simply. "You existed and made him see you."
Mia's heart sank. "Leon doesn't—"
"Oh, he does," Rachel cut in, her tone sharp. "He might deny it, but his wolf can't. That bond you share is ruining everything. Do you know what that means for me? For my family?"
Mia shook her head, tears welling. "I never wanted to come between anyone."
"Then you shouldn't have been born," Rachel hissed.
Darius lifted a hand, signaling her to stop. "Enough. She'll get what she deserves soon."
Yaqut stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Alpha, should we keep her here for the night?"
"Yes," Darius said, his tone final. "We'll decide what to do in the morning."
They turned and left, Rachel giving Mia one last look — a mix of hatred and satisfaction.
The door shut, and silence fell again.
Mia leaned back against the cold wall, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her chest hurt, not just from fear, but from Leon's words echoing in her mind.
It was a mistake.
She's nothing to me.
She closed her eyes tightly, wishing she could turn everything off — the pain, the fear, the bond that refused to die.
A low creak made her eyes open.
One of the guards — a bulky man with cruel eyes — stepped forward from the shadows.
"Pretty thing like you shouldn't cry," he said with a smirk. "You might make me feel sorry for you."
Mia tensed. "Stay away from me."
He chuckled. "What? You think you're special because of that prince? He won't come for you. No one will."
He took a step closer. Mia's heartbeat quickened.
He reached out and grabbed her chin roughly. "You know, I could make you beg for mercy—"
"Don't," she whispered, her voice shaking.
The guard laughed and pulled harder on her hair. "What will you do? Cry? Humans are all the same—"
Suddenly, a faint glow filled the room.
The guard froze.
Mia's eyes flickered silver. The air grew colder, the light brighter. The ropes around her wrists began to smoke.
The moonlight from the crack above her widened, spilling onto her like a spotlight.
The guard stepped back, terrified. "W-What—what are you—"
Mia's breathing grew uneven, her fear replaced by something else — power. Ancient and wild. The walls seemed to hum. Her pulse matched the rhythm of the moonlight.
"Don't touch me," she said, her voice echoing strangely, layered with something not quite human.
The ropes burst into ash. The guard screamed as his feet lifted slightly from the ground, trapped in a sudden wave of shimmering light.
Mia stood slowly, her eyes glowing like the moon itself. Her hair floated slightly as if lifted by wind, though the air was still.
"W-what are you?" the guard stammered, trembling.
Mia's voice was soft, almost calm. "I don't know," she whispered, "but I think you should run."
The last thing he saw before everything went white was her raised hand and the mark on her shoulder blazing like fire.
The room exploded in silver light.
And somewhere far away, under the same moon, Leon's eyes snapped open — his heart pounding, his wolf roaring inside him.
"She's awake."