<i>Zephyrine </i>


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    “You are a Lycan. Only a few even know about my father outside this Kingdom. How did you know?”


    Instead of responding, he merely looked me over, then asked again.


    “Is your elder brother, the war strategist who vanished from battle five years ago? Varyn Ashmere?”


    That question twisted me inside. He knew about the battle five years ago.


    “Lycan…” I began, but he had already left the bath chamber, moving out with deliberate steps.


    For a few heartbeats, I stood frozen, my pulse hammering. Then I rushed after him, down the stairs, bursting into the dining hall.


    Swiftly, I blocked his path, desperate to know where he was going.


    “Lycannar,” I called, my voice quiet but urgent. “Tell me how do you know about my family?”


    For the first time, I saw true horror flicker across his face, as if he couldn’tprehend it.


    “You… you are the warrior who cut the dark spell away. You defeated Xyrrha in battle? Is that…,” he muttered incredulously, stepping closer to lock eyes with me. “If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”


    With that, he walked past me, disappearing into a shadowed hall.


    My heart plummeted. Zyrrha? Who was that? Why did he speak of a battle as though he had been there? Or… was he there?


    “Lycan…” I called again, moving to follow him, but a voice stopped me.


    The Lycan Princesses entered the dining hall, and my chest heaved. They knew something. They always


    knew.


    I approached them, questions spilling from me, directed at no one in particr. I needed answers.


    “Tell me everything. How does my identity as an Ashmere connect to the Blood?”


    No answer came, only heightening my frustration. The weakness from breaking my bond with Nyroth Hue still lingered, and now… dizziness washed over me, forcing me to sway.


    “Zephyrine,” Princess Mearez said, her concern wrapping around me as she came to steady me but I held out a hand to stop her.


    Gritting my jaw, I lowered myself onto a chair at the dining table, head bowed.


    “I have never lied to you, and all my feelings for Lycannar are true. Every moment of my journey, I thought of him. I loved him, and I still do. I respect you both above all and yet, you won’t speak to me?”


    “Zephyrine…”


    I turned away, trying to steady my racing thoughts.


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    “Five years ago, my brother vanished in battle. Overnight, I became an orphan with no blood. Around me were onlyrades, maids, pack members and rtives I could not trust. My parents‘ deaths were confirmed. They died in battle, and everyone who fought with them saw it. But my brother…. vanished like smoke in the wind. He is the next Alpha of my pack, but since he is nowhere… I was called to ascend the sacred seat. That’s it. I… I don’t understand. Does Lycannar know my parents? Or my brother? Or all of them?”


    Princess Mearez approached, pulling a chair to sit/gently before me. Her hand came to mine, soft and grounding. She studied me quietly before sighing.


    “I think it’s better to wait for Lycannar. Only he can make it clear… and vivid.”


    I stayed silent, feeling her soft touch linger. Then I swallowed and I pulled my hand away, turning toward the stairs with a heavy heart.


    The hallway greeted me with that same lingering dark energy. I moved carefully into Lycannar’s bed chamber and paused at the doorway.


    The space had been transformed. The living room arrangement stole my breath and I found myself walk towards the bed chamber.


    His bed, once stark and masculine, now radiated warmth and elegance. Long curtains in deep crimson and gold swirled gently with the draft. Candles flickered in sconces, casting yful shadows on the polished floor.


    A low divan and a small writing desk had been arranged neatly, while hand–carved shelves disyed delicate ornaments and vases with fresh flowers.


    I stepped in, heart thrumming. There was a section clearly meant for someone… me, no doubt. Gowns of silk and satin hung on a rack, nightgowns and elegant shoes lined up neatly, each piece exuding sensuality and care.


    My gaze shifted to the bed a soft white canopy curtain swirling gently, the sheets pristine, inviting, yet intimate.


    A mirror, framed in carved obsidian, caught my attention. Lycannar had never used one, yet here it stood, partially veiled with a curtain. I stared at it, pulse quickening. Every detail spoke of him preparing for… someone. For me.


    The familiar dark energy I had felt earlier whjch I couldn’t pinpoint where I have perceived it came to swirled again. Memories came rushing. The battlefield five years ago, the sh of steel, the aura of a demon war general. Xyrrha. Could that be her? The same Lycannar had just named? My thoughts scrambled, trying to piece it together.


    I swallowed hard, drawing in the warm, scented air of the bed chamber, and the question that had been gnawing at me pressed to the forefront.


    How much did he know?