?Chapter 1003:
I found myself at a loss for words, my thoughts in disarray.
“I’ve never considered that,” I murmured, my voiceced with uncertainty.
Jett rose abruptly, his face set with determination. “Makenna, you need to think about it, n for it. That throne is yours by right; you can’t just ignore it.”
His intense look sent a shiver through me.
I turned my head away, avoiding his piercing stare, and murmured,
“I’ll take things step by step. No use in overthinking it right now.”
“Makenna.”
Jett’s tone was urgent as he moved closer and ced his hands on my shoulders firmly.
Even through the fabric, the heat of his touch was palpable, causing my heart to beat faster and my body to quiver slightly, as though trying to flee the overwhelming pressure.
“You don’t have much time to keep avoiding this.”
He bent his head. His gaze burned as he looked at me, and his breath was warm against my face. “This country is yours, and yours alone. I know you feel lost because of those three princes, but they aren’t meant to rule the werewolf n.”
I clenched my teeth, struggling with my swirling emotions. After taking a deep breath, I finally mustered the courage to look back at him. “I know, I just… don’t know how to confront them.”
I gently pushed his hands off my shoulders and pleaded, “Jett, give me some time to sort this out, okay?”
Jett stared at me quietly for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
“Alright, take the time you need.”
The rest on g???????ν?????????????
A wave of relief washed over me at his words.
Jett understood that pressing the issue would only wear us both out. He turned and walked away reluctantly. His footsteps echoed heavily as he exited, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the quiet room.
Makenna’s POV:
After Jett left, I copsed onto the bed, my body and mindpletely drained.
Every muscle ached while my thoughts refused to quiet, spinning like leaves.
Jett’s words echoed relentlessly, chasing away any chance of sleep.
Unexpectedly, Alden’s face drifted into my consciousness.
We shared the same blood—both members of the white wolf n, both with a deep hatred for the current Lycan royalty.
Yet he possessed something special: a natural insight that cut through confusion like moonlight through fog.
The question formed slowly: What would Alden make of all this?
What actions would he take?
Once nted, the thought wouldn’t leave me. I needed his perspective, his rity.
With renewed purpose, I pushed myself up from the bed, straightened my rumpled clothes, and set off toward the prison.
The guards nced at Dominic’s token before stepping aside with respectful nods.
I tiptoed down the dim corridor toward Alden’s cell.
Through the bars, I could see him lying peacefully asleep.
A mischievous impulse seized me, and I couldn’t resist.
.
.
.