<i>Zephyrine </i>
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I refused her help, silent and cold. I bathed myself and dressed up, my eyes fixed on my reflection in the mirror until it choked me up. The truth and the cruel reality of what is happening.
Lycannar will not remain weak or tamed for long. He might lose control soon, and when he does, he will be a ravaging beast, one who could ughter even his beloved people.
Dessyn had betrayed me. If she hadn’t… then Varyn wouldn’t have had the audacity to order our warriors to march into the Lycan Kingdom to seize the princesses.
He knew the king who would save them was weak, but he had forgotten that Chantel still stands.
My gaze slowly moved from my reflection to my hand. The ring around my finger, which I had begun to wear with pride, gleamed faintly. <fnb0c2> Official source is fι?dnοvel</fnb0c2>
The runes over my skin still pulsed faintly, hidden beneath my clothes. Perhaps soon, I would stop hiding them altogether.
But not yet. Not now. I had to face what awaited me in the meeting chamber, where even the Council members had gathered.
I rose from the chair and left the room, ignoring Isolde, who bowed as I passed. She had brought the tea that made me pass out. If she cannot be trusted, then she does not deserve to
serve me.
Stepping into the open corridor, I turned toward the hallway and entered the chamber. The door opened before me, and I paused in the doorway.
They were all there, seated, everyone except my brother, who was pacing with a deep frown carved into his face. The seat at the head of the table awaited me, and I walked to it, settling down without a word.
“The armies from Moonveil Fortress, more than half a thousand, will march into the Lycan Kingdom in a few days to end the Cursed King,” said Lady Sylvara, her voice echoing through the hall. Silence followed.
“They have to pay for what they did to your father, Zephyr,” Lord Osmir began, his voice. rising. “The King must answer for…”
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“And we should answer for what we did to his armies on the battlefield,” I cut in sharply. My eyes lifted to meet theirs, three council members who had fanned the fire of this empire from the beginning, and the elders of Ash Pack who refused to help when I needed them most.
The same people who spat on the name Ashmere.
“Zephyr…”
“No one is marching into the Lycan Kingdom,” I said firmly, my tone calm but unyielding. “I won’t allow it. The civilians there are innocent. The princesses are innocent…”
“Are you sure they are?” Varyn stopped pacing and turned to me. His eyes were sharp, watching. “Last night, when the five Ashmeres went to retrieve the princesses, something happened.”
“They paid with their lives as they should,” I said, chin lifted.
He smiled darkly.
“Chantel. Does that name sound familiar, little sister?”
My heart dropped. I said nothing.
“They said he’s a demon,” Varyn continued. “He shifted before everyone’s eyes to save the princesses. A man with wings and horns, living in the Lycan Kingdom, beside the same king you’re so madly in love with. Tell me, Zephyr… did you know this?”
The words hit me like a de. I stared at him in stunned silence, the ache spreading through my chest.
“I should have known,” he went on,ughing bitterly. “He didn’t tell you, did he? Just like he didn’t tell you he killed our father. A man who hides this much from you, do you truly think he loves you?”
Goosebumps raced across my skin. I lowered my gaze as the burn of tears blurred my vision. Lycannar, after everything… still kept such a secret from me.
“We need to kill the Lycan King,” Lord Eryndor said grimly. “He’s cursed, and soon he’ll be unstoppable if we don’t act. That’s what his father feared too.”
Tears threaten to trickled down my cheeks, soundless.
“We should have known he’d be a problem,” another elder murmured. “When the prophecy first came, we thought it was just a tale. But now it makes sense. If demons walk among us, they’ll bring imbnce. We no longer know who’s demon and who’s not. Even the King
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himself might be… a full–blooded demon.”
A cold wave swept through me.
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Lycannar once said his stepfather had gifted him Chantel and Ravana, the talking raven so he wouldn’t be lonely.
If his stepfather could gift him a demon, then who was he?
Dizziness struck. I rose to my feet, emotions too heavy to contain, and nearly stumbled. Varyn caught me, steadying me.
Our eyes met. His hand was warm over mine.
“Maybe you should sit this war out, Zephyr,” he said softly. “Just as Jurrek has done.”
Jurrek. Jurrek Bane.
At once I realized why I haven’t seen him around recently.
That exined his absence these past days. He, <i>too</i>, had withdrawn… for the love of Princess Mearez.
I looked at my brother’s hand on mine, then gently pulled free. Without a word, I turned and walked out, my heart splintering into a thousand pieces as I went straight to the carraige.
I won’t believe their words. Not theirs.
Only his.
And I still believe he is a Lycan. Entirely Lycan.
He’s never kept secrets from me. He never would.
As I made my way toward the carriage, a rush of memory struck me.
Morwen, Dessyn’s mother.
She had been against my rtionship with Lycannar months ago.
Her words echoed in my mind now, sharper than before. She had spoken as if she knew something, something I refused to see.
She warned me about how he bes under the full moon, dropping hints I had ignored for the sake of love.
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Swallowing hard, I turned away from the carriage and back toward my chambers.
Perhaps instead of going to the Lycan Kingdom for answers, I should find Morwen first and ask questions.