She Disrespected the Ruthless Alpha King – But Instead of Punishing her, he knelt

The war is over. That is what everyone says. And if the war is over, Annie reasons, then Papa is coming home. He promised. So she waits. Days in the snow, nights with no food. The villagers step around her like she is part of the road. Nobody stops to help. So when a warrior rides in on a great black horse surrounded by guards and wolves and the kind of silence that makes grown men press themselves against walls, Annie does the only thing she can think of.

Please find my papa, she asks him, brandishing her last coin. I can pay. The crowd forgets how to breathe. Because the man Annie has just approached like a common hired hand is Alpha King Fenon. Ruthless conqueror, destroyer of kingdoms, a name used to frighten children into obed.i.ence and sold.i.ers into loyalty.

Everyone expects the child to be punished for her disrespect. Instead, the king kneels. So now the crowd is wondering, why would the most feared ruler in the land stop for one halfrozen child no one else would even look at? Chapter 1. Annie’s toes had stopped hurting 2 hours ago. That was either a good sign or a very bad one.

She couldn’t quite remember which. Papa had taught her about frostbite once, but the lesson felt fuzzy now. She shifted her weight carefully. Her boots were split along the sides, letting snow soak through her stockings. The cold didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered except staying right here.

Wait here, Papa had said 3 years ago, kneeling so his eyes, one brown, one green, just like hers, were level with her face. When the war ends, you wait at the milestone. I’ll always find you there. Annie touched the stone marker with one numb hand. The war was over now. Everyone said so. Papa would be coming home down this very road, and he’d see her waiting just like he’d told her to, and he’d scoop her up and spin her around, and everything would be right again.

She just had to wait a little longer. Her stomach cramped. A sharp twist that made her gasp. The land lady had thrown her out 4 days ago. “Your father’s dead, girl. No coin means no room. Out with you.” But the land lady was wrong. Papa wasn’t dead. He’d promised to come back. Papa never broke his promises. Annie curled her fingers around the single coin in her pocket.

She wasn’t going to spend it on food. She was going to use it to hire someone to find Papa. Papa always said good work deserved fair payment. She’d asked 43 people in 3 days. Someone would know something eventually. That was just mathematics. A horn sounded in the distance and Annie’s head snapped up. But the crowd around her wasn’t gathering to greet returning warriors.

People were scattering, pressing themselves against buildings, yanking children into doorways. Eyes down, a man hissed to his son. Do you want to lose them? Then the wolves came. Massive shapes paced alongside the horses, darker than shadows, eyes gleaming. They moved like violence given form. The villagers pressed themselves flat against the walls, all eyes fixed on the man at the front of the procession.

He rode the biggest warhorse Annie had ever seen. Dark fur draped across his shoulders, armor that looked like it had seen a hundred battles. Scars crossed his face, one along his jaw, another through his eyebrow. The crowd stopped breathing. Annie didn’t understand the fear pulsing through it, but she understood one thing.

This man was powerful, and if he was leading sold.i.ers home from war, he might know where Papa was. She started forward. “How dare you, girl?” A guard’s voice cracked. “Neil.” Annie barely heard him. “You’re in the presence of his majesty, the Alpha King Fenon of House Silverhall.” Annie<unk>s gaze snapped back to the man on the warhorse. “The Alpha King?” Her heart leaped.

If anyone could help, it was him. She walked right up to the massive warhorse and tilted her face up, up, up. “Excuse me, Mr. King?” Annie asked. The silence that followed felt like the moment before lightning struck. His gaze fell upon her, green eyes, deep and dark like forest in shadow. “Have you seen my papa?” Annie asked with a smile.

The sold.i.ers went rigid. One reached for his sword. “Your majesty, shall I dispose of?” The king lifted one hand. The guard stopped mid breath. Annie, encouraged, continued. My papa is a sold.i.er, and he has eyes like mine. She pointed to her own face, to the mismatched eyes she’d inherited.

The king’s face did something strange. His jaw clenched, and he dismounted. The crowd pulled back, but Annie kept smiling. The king was listening. That was more than anyone else had done in 3 days. He knelt. “Have you been a lone long, child?” he asked. 3 days, Annie said. Papa told me to wait here when the war ended. It occurred to her that the war had ended because of this very king.

Thank you for ending the war, Mr. King. She launched herself against him. Her little arms wrapping around his neck. The king froze. The entire crowd froze. Silence rained. “It’s cold, child,” the king said after a beat. “Go back inside.” “I can’t. Papa’s coming home soon. I have to wait here so he can find me. Something in his expression made Annie’s stomach twist.

Mr. Your Majesty, can you please find my papa? Sharp gasps rippled through the crowd. Annie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t foolish. She was prepared. I can pay. She dug the coin from her pocket and held it up proudly. Papa says good work shouldn’t come for free. I can pay good money. Honest.

The crowd’s collective inhale sounded like wind before a storm. A heartbeat passed, then another. All right, the king agreed, extending his hand. He stud.i.ed her trembling hands. Come with me, child. You’ll eat. You’ll be warm. Annie<unk>s heart swelled, but she shook her head. If I leave, Papa won’t find me.

The king looked away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. If your father returns. When he returns, Annie corrected. The king grimaced. When? He said like it cost him. I will leave word. He will know where to find you. Annie stud.i.ed his face, remembering Papa’s most important rule. Kind eyes mean good hearts. The king<unk>s eyes were tired, heavy, like he was carrying something too big to set down.

But not cruel. You promise? Annie asked her voice small. “I am the king,” he said. “My word is law.” “Then I’ll come,” she said. Behind her, the village released a collective breath of pure shock. Chapter 2. Neesa. Princess Neesa had perfected the art of standing like a statue, spine straight, chin lifted.

No one watching would guess that beneath her carefully maintained mask, she was imagining the Alpha King’s fortress crumbling to dust, him buried beneath it. Snow gathered on the black stone. His castle’s courtyard was crowded with nobles and sold.i.ers, all assembled to witness the king’s return. Drums sounded in the distance, a rhythmic thunder that made her jaw clench. He was coming home.

the man who had destroyed her kingdom, the man she was being forced to marry. A noble woman shifted beside her, leaning close enough. “They say he crushed the last rebellion in 3 days,” she said. Nesa didn’t turn her head. “Yes, well, they also say that efficiency is the hallmark of tyranny,” she replied.

The woman fell silent, but Neesa caught her nervous glance and smirked. She was a princess of the southern kingdom, daughter of a proud line. No amount of force could make her forget what had been taken from her, even if she had to stand here and pretend otherwise. The engagement had been arranged 3 months ago after the three-year war that had left her kingdom in ruins.

The terms were simple. Princess Neesa would marry Alpha King Fenan, ensuring peace and her family’s survival. She would become his Luna, his queen, the symbol of the South’s submission to the North. She had met him only once during the official engagement ceremony. The memory still made her stomach twist. He’d stood at the far end of the throne room, and even across that vast space, his presence had been overwhelming.

She tried not to pay him any attention. Their advisers had negotiated the final terms while Neesa stood on her designated mark, but then he’d looked at her. one long assessing look from eyes the color of deep forests, green, but darker than any green had a right to be. Predator’s eyes. Nesa had stared back with all the defiance she could pack into a single glance.

It had infuriated her, that look, the casual way he’d assessed her like she was a horse he was considering purchasing. But what had infuriated her more was the small traitorous part of her that had noticed he was beautiful in the way a blade could be beautiful. Deadly and perfectly and utterly capable of destruction. She’d crushed that thought immediately, refused to let it surface again ever.

Trumpet sounded sharp and clear. The gates began to open. Neesa’s fingers tightened. She had survived this long by hiding her hatred behind perfect manners. She could survive this, too. A massive black wolf padded into the courtyard. The Alpha King. The crowd fell silent. This wolf was embodiment of every nightmare that had haunted the southern kingdom for 3 years.

Its shoulders came up to a man’s chest, muscles rippling beneath fur so black it seemed to absorb blight. And it had a child on its back. She was tiny, wrapped in a cloak far too large for her, her face pinched with cold and hunger. Neesa blinked, certain she’d imagined it. A guard stepped forward with a heavy fur cloak. The child climbed down, and the wolf moved away, padding behind a carved screen that had been hastily positioned near the gates, clearly a regular accommodation for the king’s transformations. Moments later, the man

emerged. Alpha King Fenon. Neesa’s breath caught despite herself. He was taller than she’d remembered somehow, and dark hair fell loose around his shoulders now, damp with melted snow, softening nothing, and those eyes, dark green, intense, missing nothing as they swept the assembled crowd. Nesa hated that she noticed.

He walked back to where the child waited, and Neesa’s breath caught, gently lifted her into his arms. The contrast was startling. those large scarred hands that had wielded sword and claw with such devastating effect, now cradling a small child with obvious care. And the girl simply settled against his broad chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Your castle is pretty,” she said, her voice bright and trusting. Nesa gaped, eyeing the dark structure built in within the heart of the mountains. “Pretty is not what she’d called it.” But the king said nothing, and she wondered, “Who was this little girl anyway? An illegitimate daughter, perhaps? A secret child from before the war? That would explain the protectiveness.

But why bring her here? Why now?” The king strode forward, the child still in his arms, and the crowd parted automatically. His eyes swept the assembled nobles, assessing, cataloging threats, noting absences. Then his gaze found Neesa. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other across the courtyard. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her, but something flickered in those dark green eyes.

Something that made her pulse quicken in a way she absolutely refused to acknowledge. Princess Neesa, he greeted, his voice as rough as she remembered. Neesa inclined her head with perfect glacial politeness. She kept her face perfectly neutral, her eyes cold. For just a moment, his expression shifted, disappointment. But then it was gone.

He turned away, carrying the child toward the raised platform where his throne waited, and Neesa found herself watching the way he moved, like a predator who’d never learned to doubt his own power. She looked away sharply, annoyed with herself. Meanwhile, the court murmured, confused and curious. Neesa wasn’t the only one staring at the child.

Up close, Neesa could see how thin she was, how her clothes hung off her small frame. A cord.i.er leaned toward another, whispering loud enough for Neesa to hear, “Who is she?” Neesa expected the king to explain, to announce her as his daughter perhaps, or ward. Instead, he simply said, “She is under my protection.” The child beamed up at him.

His majesty is very kind,” she announced. Neesa’s eyes narrowed. “Kind? The Alpha King?” She held back a laugh. “He took me in to wait for my papa because now that he ended the war, he’s going to help everyone.” The child continued, “Uterly sincere, utterly trusting.” “Everyone,” someone laughed, catching themselves when the king sent them a cold glare. “Yes,” Annie beamed.

He said, “More hungry children and hurt sold.i.ers can come here. The king takes care of people.” Silence crashed across the courtyard like a physical force. Neesa felt the shock ripple through the crowd because everyone in this courtyard knew one simple fact. 3 months ago, a council member had proposed opening the fortress to refugees from the war.

The king had refused. Everyone knew that. And now this child, this strange thin little girl, was proclaiming to the entire court that the king had promised the exact opposite. Nesa leaned forward slightly, fascinated despite herself. The king’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticked in his cheek. Then he exhaled slowly. “Prepare the guest halls.

” His voice was controlled, careful. “Any wounded sold.i.ers or displaced children who seek refuge will be admitted.” Neesa felt her own eyes widen. The queen mother stiffened visibly. “Your majesty,” the queen said, her voice low and sharp. “This was not. It is now,” the king interrupted. The court began to dismiss, nobles and sold.i.ers filing out in small groups, their whispers creating a low buzz of speculation.

Neesa remained where she was, mind racing. What had she just witnessed? Chapter 3. Annie. Annie woke up on her third morning in the palace and stared at the ceiling. It was painted, little gold stars against dark blue, like the night sky, but prettier. At home, the ceiling had been plain wood with a crack shaped like a rabbit’s ear. She missed Papa.

Not in the sad way that made her chest hurt, just the normal way, where she wanted to tell him about the painted ceiling and how the fireplace kept going all night without anyone adding wood. And she wanted to ask the king if anyone had seen him yet. Annie slipped out of bed, got dressed in one of the simple dresses someone had left for her, and went looking.

The hallways were huge and echoey. She peaked into rooms as she passed. Most had people doing boring grown-up things. She kept walking and then she almost crashed into the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. “Oh,” the woman was wearing a dress the color of deep water and her face looked like something from one of Papa’s fairy tales.

“I’m so sorry,” Annie said quickly. “I wasn’t watching where.” “It’s quite all right.” The woman’s voice was smooth and a little surprised. “Are you lost, child?” a little bit. I’m looking for the king. Do you know where he might be? Something flickered across the woman’s face. The king is likely in the council chambers or the training grounds.

Why do you need to see him? I wanted to ask if there’s news about my papa, Annie said, then remembering her manners. I’m Annie. I know who you are. The woman smiled. I am Princess Neesa. Annie<unk>s whole face went hot with excitement. The princess? The one who’s marrying the king? Yes, that one. Oh. Annie clasped her hands together.

You’re so beautiful, princess. You’re the most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen. I can see exactly why the king is so in love with you. The princess’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, I wouldn’t say he is in love.” “Of course he is,” Annie interrupted. “And you must love him very much, too, to be marrying him.” The princess’s mouth got tight, and she looked away.

But then she just said quietly, “Come, I’ll walk with you.” They walked together, Annie taking two steps for every one of the princesses. This was perfect. The king was a hero and he was marrying a beautiful, kind princess. And soon Papa would come home and they’d probably all live here together, like a family. The corridor opened into a courtyard.

Cold air hit Annie’s face. Then she heard a cracking noise and jumped. What’s that? Princess Neesa’s hand touched her shoulder. Annie, perhaps we should, but Annie had already seen a boy tied to a post, older than her, but not by much. His shirt was gone, and there were red marks on his back and a man with a whip.

And the boy jerked, but didn’t scream. “Stop!” Annie screamed. Everyone turned to look at her. “Why are you hurting him?” Annie asked. He failed his duty,” the guard replied. Princess Neesa’s hand tightened on Annie’s shoulder. Annie, come. This is just This is how things are done here. There’s nothing you can do.

Annie shook her head. Papa had taught her that hurting people was wrong. She pulled away from the princess and stepped forward, fists clenched at her sides. “The king would not stand for this.” The guards looked at each other and laughed. You don’t know the king, little girl. Annie<unk>s whole chest got hot. Of course I do, and I know he helps people because he’s a hero.

The guard hesitated. Not because of what Annie said. Princess Neesa had stepped up beside her. “Leave the boy alone,” she said, her voice cool and commanding. “He’s had enough.” The guards lowered their whips. But then, “What is this interruption?” came a voice sharp and cold. the queen mother, tall and elegant, and everyone straightened immediately. She looked at Annie.

Her eyes were cold. “Why is this child in my yard?” “Ma’am, they’re hurting him,” Annie said, pointing at the boy. The queen mother would help. “She was the king’s mother. Papa always said mothers had the softest hearts.” Princess Neesa spoke up. “The child has been whipped enough, your majesty.

” The queen mother smiled. You wouldn’t know what’s enough, princess. Your army lost wars. She looked at the guards. Continue. Annie<unk>s stomach dropped. But the king wouldn’t, she began. Child, the king allows what must be done. The queen mother waved her hand. The whip rose. Annie<unk>s whole body went cold and then hot. No, the king had saved her.

Promised to help hungry children and hurt sold.i.ers. Heroes didn’t let children get hurt. She ran straight at the post, arms out, putting herself between the whip and the boy. “No!” Princess Neesa screamed. Annie heard running behind her, but she was already there, arms spread wide. The whip stopped. Everything went quiet.

Then footsteps, heavy ones. King Fenan was here. Relief flooded through her whole body, warm and bright. He walked in like thunder, tall and powerful, his face dark, but Annie wasn’t scared because she knew he wasn’t mad at her. His green eyes looked at everything. Explain, he said. The guard dropped to his knee.

Discipline, your majesty. The boy failed to, but the king was looking at Annie now. She smiled. She couldn’t help it. Mr. the King, you came. He walked closer and stopped right in front of her. She had to tilt her head way back to see his face. “You wouldn’t let them hurt him, would you?” Annie asked.

She knew it like she knew the sun came up. The queen mother stepped forward. Weakness breeds chaos, my son. The king didn’t even look at her. I will be the judge of that. Release him. The queen mother’s face got tight. This undermines order, she said as a guard untied the ropes and the boy fell. Another guard caught him.

Your Majesty. Annie took his hand and squeezed. Perhaps you should explain to the guard that whipping is simply not acceptable. I don’t think they understand because if they had, they’d never have whipped the poor boy in the first place. He looked at all the guards and breathed out slow. No one in this fortress will be whipped again.

Annie’s smile got so big it hurt. Thank you, your majesty. And then she hugged him, threw her arms around his waist, and squeezed as hard as she could, pressing her face against his coat. He went completely still like he’d turned into a statue, but Annie didn’t let go. “You’re a hero,” she said.

His hand came down on her head just for a second. “Chapter 4. Neesa.” Neesa stood outside the king’s war chamber with her hands clasped behind her back, forcing her spine straight, her chin level, the perfect picture of a composed princess. Inside, her heart beat too fast. She’d requested this meeting 3 days ago, had prepared her arguments, rehearsed her requests until the words felt smooth and controlled.

The marriage contract had been negotiated by advisers and signed by her father. But there were details, critical details, that could mean the difference between her people keeping their sacred spaces or losing the last remnants of their identity. The door opened. A guard gestured her inside.

The war chamber hit her immediately. Smoke and steel, old leather, and something sharper. Wolf. Maps covered a massive table in the center, marked with territories and troop movements. Weapons lined the walls in deliberate arrangement. This was the room where wars were planned, where kingdoms fell, where hers had fallen. Fenon stood at the table reviewing documents, his back to her, even without armor he was imposing.

Broad shoulders, the kind of build that came from actual combat. Dark hair slightly disheveled, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms corded with muscle and marked with old scars. He looked up when she entered and those green eyes found hers. Neesa’s breath caught despite herself. Predatory in a way that made her wolf instincts flare.

Half warning, half something she refused to name. “Princess,” he said. His voice was rough, controlled. “Your Majesty,” she kept her tone neutral, even as her pulse jumped. He gestured to the chairs near the fireplace. They sat and immediately Neesa was aware of how close they were. She could see the details she’d tried to ignore in the courtyard.

The scar through his eyebrow, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hands moved with controlled precision as he pushed the marriage contract toward her. Neesa looked down at the document quickly before her thoughts could wander further. “You had concerns about the terms?” he asked. Clarifications, Neesa corrected, pleased that her voice came out steady.

Article 7 addresses the treatment of southern kingdom customs and religious sites. It’s vague. Be specific about what you need. The temple of the moon. It must remain accessible to my people for worship, for ceremonies. It’s mentioned in the territories list, but not explicitly protected. Finnen watched her carefully. The temple matters to your people, he observed.

Neesa’s throat tightened. Our customs do not interfere with yours. It’s simply a place of princess. His voice cut through her deflection. I never said I didn’t agree. Neesa stopped mid-sentence. The temple will be kept for your people, Fenon continued. I see no objection to that.

She’d prepared arguments, and he was just agreeing. In exchange for what? The words came out sharper than she’d intended. “I’m sorry,” the king frowned. “Don’t play dumb.” Heat rose in her chest. “We both know you’re not the type to give anything for free, your majesty.” Silence fell between them, heavy and charged. Fenon leaned back in his chair.

“You’re really unhappy about our upcoming union, aren’t you?” he asked finally. The question felt like a hand closing around her throat. “You didn’t choose this.” No, Neesa said quietly. I did not. Guilt stirred in her chest, small and uncomfortable. He was being reasonable, almost kind in his gruff, awkward way. And here she was throwing his concessions back in his face.

Though I suppose, she said carefully, “I’m reassured to see that innocent children will not be whipped to d.e.a.t.h anymore.” Finnen’s eyes snapped to hers. “Right,” he said, looking away. that uncertainty again. “It was good of you,” she added. “To change it.” He made a sound, half snort, half exhale, but said nothing.

His gaze drifted to the fire, and Neesa found herself watching the way the light played across his features. “Tired, conflicted, human.” “The girl,” Neesa said, her curiosity overriding caution. Finnen’s gaze shifted back. What of her? Who is she to you? Neesa leaned forward slightly, drawn in despite herself. Something flickered across his face.

Pain quickly suppressed. An orphan girl. She says she’s waiting for her papa, Neesa said. Her papa is dead, flat. Final. How do you know? Neesa pressed. Fenon tensed. Every line of his body went rigid. If he weren’t, Fenon said slowly, each word seeming to cost him. He would have come for her by now. Wouldn’t you say, there was more to this? Something he wasn’t saying.

Something that caused him actual pain. Fine, she said. An orphan girl. There are plenty of those around the kingdom. So why her? She is my responsibility, Fenon said. Finally. Neesa’s wolf rose. the instinct to scent, to read what words wouldn’t reveal. She breathed in carefully. His scent hit her fully, masculine and complex, so distinctly wolf, it made her own nature respond in ways she absolutely didn’t want.

But beneath all of that, no trace of the child. Wolves always carried their parents’ scent. Always. Annie had none of his scent on her. Nesa realized she’d leaned closer without meaning to, and their eyes met. Those dark green eyes, intense and burning, watching her with an expression she couldn’t name. Heat flooded her face.

She pulled back sharply. “This was the man who’ destroyed her home. The fact that he smelled good meant absolutely nothing.” “How do I make her feel safe?” Fenon said quietly. “Annie, I mean.” He shifted in his chair, that uncertainty creeping back. You seem observant, princess. Any advice? Of all the things she had expected from this meeting, the conquering Alpha King asking her for parenting advice was not one of them.

Children don’t trust proclamations, she said slowly. They trust presence. He was listening. Really listening. If you wish her to feel safe, you must be the one who makes her so. Not servants, not guards. You. I brought her here, Fenon said, something defensive in his tone. And then vanished for days, Neesa countered, her voice gentler now despite herself. He didn’t deny it.

You command armies, Neesa continued. Yet you fear a child’s expectations. She believes I’m good, he said, looking lost. But you don’t agree? Neesa asked softly. Fenon’s gaze met hers, and the intensity of it stole her breath. You tell me, princess, should I? The question hung between them, honest and vulnerable in a way that made Neesa’s chest ache.

A week ago, the answer would have been simple. Absolute. Now, sitting here in the firelight, watching conflict play across his scarred face. I think,” she said carefully, her voice barely above a whisper, “that you could be, if you chose to be.” Something passed between them in the silence that followed, fragile and terrifying.

Understanding maybe, or the beginning of it. Chapter 5. Neesa. A month had passed. Neesa stood at the corridor balcony overlooking the inner courtyard, telling herself she was simply taking air. She was not watching the king. She was simply standing here looking at the courtyard which happened to contain the king.

Below, Fenon knelt in the dirt beside Annie, dark hair falling forward as he bent to the child’s level. Breathe, he said. Do not force it. Tell that to her, Annie muttered. My wolf is being very shy. Your wolf isn’t a different person, little one, Fenon said. She is part of you. Shifting just takes time, that’s all.

Annie considered this with the grave seriousness she applied to most things. Maybe I’m shy then, she said. And there it was. A sound Neesa had never heard from the Alpha King. Low and brief and real. A laugh. You didn’t seem particularly shy, Fenon said. When you hired me to find your father. Annie giggled and the sound floated up through the cold air like something warm.

Neesa’s chest tightened strangely. “Kings do not kneel to children.” The queen mother’s voice cut through the courtyard like a blade. She stood at the far edge, wrapped in dark fur. Fenon didn’t even look at her. Beats bending double and ruining my back. Don’t you think? Annie laughed again. The Queen Mother’s eyes went to Annie, and the look on her face made Neesa’s blood cool.

Not displeasure, not irritation, something calculating. Nesa filed it away and stepped back from the railing. She was almost back to her apartments when the small figure appeared at the corridor junction, planting herself directly in Neesa’s path with both hands on her hips. “There you are,” Annie announced. “Here I am,” Neesa repeated. Fenan is free for dinner and papa always says families eat together.

We are not, Neesa attempted. But Annie had already taken her hand and was tugging and Neesa was following. She found herself seated at the royal dining table before she entirely understood how she’d gotten there. The private chamber was smaller than the great hall, fire light instead of chandeliers. Fenon sat at the head of the table wearing that particular expression he reserved for situations Annie had engineered somewhere between resigned and something softer.

The queen mother sat to his right. Neesa sat across from Fenon and reached for her wine. “The first minutes passed in waited silence, but Annie decided silence was unnecessary and began to fill it. The new refugees who came today weren’t scared,” she said, helping herself to bread with both hands. Not even the little ones.

She looked at Fenon with shining eyes. I told him, “You’re a very kind king.” Fenon said nothing, but something moved through his expression. Across the table, the queen mother’s hand tightened around her goblet. Neesa watched her. The cold, deliberate way she tracked Annie’s every word, the way her jaw worked when Fenon smiled slightly.

not merely disapproval, something territorial. The wine was poured. Fennon drank his quickly, more quickly than Neesa expected. Annie was chattering about a late bloomer child who’d managed a partial shift that morning when the queen mother set down her silverware. “I find I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, her gaze moving over Annie with a restraint somehow worse than open hostility. “Good night,” she rose.

Fenon didn’t stand. didn’t acknowledge her departure beyond a slight tension in his jaw. When the doors closed behind her, the room breathed differently. Annie immediately reached for more bread. Fenon leaned back slightly. Even the fire seemed to settle. “She’s very grumpy,” Annie observed, completely unbothered.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Fenon replied. Annie swallowed obed.i.ently. “Didn’t she seem grumpy to you?” “Not particularly.” No, Fenon replied. She’s always like this. Annie considered this, her expression solemn. That’s sad, she said. Yes, Fenon said. It is. There was something in his voice, old and tired, that made Neesa look at him properly.

He was staring at his goblet, turning it slowly, and in this light, he looked exhausted. “More wine?” Nesa asked. He looked up. something shifting in his expression, brief and unguarded. “Yes, thank you,” Fenon said. She reached across and poured, and their eyes held for just a moment before she looked away.

Annie was telling them about another late bloomer child, and Fenon was listening, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. Neesa was reaching for her own wine when she noticed his hand, pressed flat against the table, fingers spled, knuckles white. Something wasn’t right. The quality of his stillness had changed. “Your Majesty,” Neesa said carefully.

“Are you all right?” He didn’t answer. When he looked up, his eyes were wrong. Darker than they should be in the fire light, breathing slowly through his nose. “Are you tired?” Annie asked. “You’ve been training everyone very hard. You should probably sleep more.” Fenon pushed back from the table suddenly, making Annie startle.

He stood too quickly, his hand catching the goblet. Wine spread across the white tablecloth like blood. You both need to leave, he said, strained, forcing the words through something. Now, please. What’s wrong? Annie cried, starting to rise. Annie, Nea moved around the table fast, reaching for the child. Come with me now.

But she was watching Fenon as she moved. His jaw clenched, unclenched. A tremor ran through his hands, visible, violent. His breathing came in harsh pulls, his eyes gone almost entirely dark. “Go,” he managed. “I’m not. I can’t.” His body bent forward, hands slamming onto the table. Then the transformation took him. Nothing like the graceful shifts she’d seen from wolves in full control.

This was violent. bones cracking and reshaping too fast, muscle tearing and reforming, his body fighting itself. Annie screamed, short, sharp. The wolf crashed onto the stone floor, knocking the table sideways, plates shattering across the stone. Neesa pulled Annie behind her. The wolf paced, wrong, jerky movements no healthy shifter made.

Claws leaving deep grooves in the stone. Breath coming in harsh snarls. Eyes wild, unseeing like something trapped. This was not controlled aggression. This wasn’t normal. “Come away,” Neesa told Annie, stepping back slowly. Quickly, and quietly. “He needs help,” Annie said. “Maybe,” Neesa said. “But there’s nothing we can do right now.

” The wolf snarled and its gaze fixed on Annie. Neesa put herself fully in front of the child on pure instinct. “Annie, don’t move.” But Annie moved. She stepped out from behind Neesa and walked toward the wolf with steady, unhurried steps. “No,” Neesa started forward. “It’s all right,” Annie said softly, not looking back.

The wolf froze. Annie kept walking, arms loose at her sides, impossibly small in that room. in front of that creature. Neesa didn’t breathe. The snarl faded. The wolf’s chest heaved once, twice, then the breathing began to slow. The wildness in those dark eyes flickered and dimmed. The great body lowered itself to the ground.

Annie kept her hand against his muzzle, stroking slowly and said nothing else. Neesa stood motionless, staring. Chapter 6. Neesa. The room was quiet now. Annie had fallen asleep by the fire, curled against the wolf’s warm flank. The wolf slept, too, his great chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths.

Nesa stood in the wrecked dining chamber alone with her thoughts. He’d been fine. That was what she couldn’t stop turning over. Sitting at the table, talking entirely himself, and then within seconds, gone. Like a man drowning inside his own body. She crossed to the overturned table and crouched beside the spilled wine, breathing it in carefully, red, spiced, slightly acidic.

She held the scent in her lungs and searched it for bitterness underneath the sweetness for the sharp chemical edge that didn’t belong. Nothing she could name. She moved to the food, smelling everything in turn. Still nothing, which meant nothing necessarily. She was no alchemist. She went to the door. Sent for Lady Dena now. Dena arrived within 10 minutes.

The one servant in this fortress Neesa had come to trust. Neesa pulled her close and kept her voice barely above a breath. Collect samples from everything on that table, every dish, every goblet. Take them to the castle alchemist tonight by order of the king. Tell him to test for anything that should not be there and to send word to me privately.

How privately? Dena asked. To no one else, Nesa said. No one. Dena nodded and moved to the table without another word. Neesa turned back to Annie. The child was deeply asleep, face slack and peaceful against the wolf’s warm side. Neesa crouched and slid her arms carefully underneath her. Annie stirred, made a soft sound, then went slack.

She stood holding her, looked toward the door. Behind her, the wolf shifted. It happened fast. Nesa turned her face sharply away. She heard Dena finish and slip out the door without being asked. Good woman. Neesa carried Annie to the large carved chair in the far corner, lowered her carefully, then turned back.

She immediately wished she hadn’t. Fenon lay on his side by the fire, deeply unconscious, and the fire light was doing absolutely nothing to help her situation. Broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist, muscle carved from years of actual warfare, fire light moving across his skin in warm gold.

Nesa looked at the ceiling, then at the door, then against her better judgment, back at him. Her cheeks were burning. If a guard walked in and found the king like this, unconscious on the floor, the room in ruins. By morning, the entire fortress would believe he’d drunk himself into a stouper, which was probably exactly what someone wanted people to think.

She found his cloak near the door and walked back, crouched beside him and began draping it across him, keeping her eyes fixed on her own hands. She was doing well until she made the mistake of breathing in. His scent enveloped her. Pine, smoke, warm skin, and her wolf went embarrassingly still inside her chest, the way it only did when it wanted something badly enough to stop pretending otherwise.

She made the further mistake of glancing at his face. His eyes were open, green and heavy-litted and very close to hers. He looked at her the way people looked at things they wanted, soft and unguarded and without a single wall up, and Neesa’s heart stopped completely. Then he lifted his hand and tucked a loose strand of hair back from her face.

Slowly, “Nesa,” he smiled. Every coherent thought she possessed evaporated simultaneously. She cleared her throat, sat back. “Your Majesty,” she said. He blinked. She watched awareness return, the warmth retreating, recognition arriving, then the full weight of memory landing all at once. His eyes swept the ruined room.

His face went pale. “Where is Annie?” “Safe,” Neesa said, nodding toward the corner with her chin. He found the small figure in the chair and the breath left him in a long broken exhale. I apologize, he said finally, for earlier I What happened? Neesa interrupted. Shame crossed his face. The last thing she’d expected from him.

It happens to me sometimes, he said, looking away. What does? Neesa asked. Bursts of I can’t control them. He looked at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. Ever since I was little, Neesa stared at him. It didn’t fit. She’d spent months watching this man. His control over his own body in the training yard was extraordinary.

This was not the portrait of a man who lost control. The fighting helps, Fenon said quietly. It canalyzes it. Gives it somewhere to go. It nest said the violence, my outbursts. He was ashamed in the way someone was ashamed of something they believed was a fundamental flaw in their own nature, something they’d been told was theirs to carry.

She had no proof yet, but she was becoming increasingly certain this wasn’t temperament. So all these wars, Neesa said carefully, they were your way of managing your temperament. No. His eyes came up sharply. No, not exactly. I He turned away. Maybe it felt good knowing there was a way to stop everything while while Neesa said. He met her eyes.

While being useful, he said quietly. She felt the sharp response rise in her. The names of cities, the faces of her people. Three years of war. She saw him register it in her expression, jaw tightening as he braced himself. She stopped because she saw it suddenly. A boy who’d been told there was something broken in him, who’d found one story that made the brokenness feel like purpose, and who had never been given a reason to question any of it.

I would think, she said sternly, but not angrily, that there might be other ways, better ways, he nodded slow and heavy, like something long refused finally being acknowledged. Wars cannot last forever, Nesa added. No, he said, I suppose they can’t. The fire settled softly. The room felt very small, very warm, and very far away from everything outside it.

She became aware of how close they were. Him on the floor. She crouched beside him, barely a foot of space between them. The scent of him enveloped her, pine, smoke, warm skin, and her wolf went embarrassingly still inside her chest. “Did I scare you?” he asked earlier. “Yes,” she said, his face tightened. He looked away.

“You didn’t scare her, though,” Neesa said quickly. “Annie, she was scared, but not of you. She was scared for you.” She found herself smiling slightly. “She walked right up to you and put her hand on your face, and you just stopped.” Fenon looked at Annie, sleeping in the corner. other ways,” he murmured almost to himself.

“Children have a way of changing things,” Neesa agreed. He turned to look at her, and she thought about the fact that someday she would be expected to bear his children. “Heat rushed up her neck.” “Or so I hear,” she said, looking away quickly. “He didn’t notice. His gaze had drifted back to Annie, the warmth giving way to something heavier.

” “What will you do?” Neesa asked. When her father comes back, he tensed immediately. He won’t. He might. He’s her father. From everything she says about him, he loves her very much. So when he comes back, her father is dead, Fenon said, meeting her eyes. She went still. Because that was not the language of probability.

During the war, Fenin said, his voice dropping. Commanding troops is difficult when everyone around you has been trained into total obed.i.ence. They say yes to everything. It’s efficient, useful. A pause. But there are moments when you need someone to tell you what they actually think, not what they calculate you want to hear.

There was a sold.i.er, Fenon said. Gerald, he said the name carefully. Common man. Nothing remarkable on paper. He was the only person in my entire army who told me exactly what he thought every time without checking whether it would cost him. He wasn’t afraid of you, Neesa said. No. Fenon seemed to find this both baffling and genuinely precious.

He’d look me dead in the eye and say, “I think that’s wrong, your majesty. And here’s why. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. I started seeking him out. It was nice to discuss things I might have otherwise missed. You became friends,” Neesa said softly. Fenon was quiet. I wouldn’t know how to recognize that,” he said finally.

“I’ve never really had friends.” He said it simply. “No self-pity, just a fact.” He talked about his daughter every spare moment. He talked about her like she was everything else was just the thing he was doing until he could get back to her. The fire crackled quietly. It made me realize there was no one waiting for me. No reason to come home.

Neesa looked at his profile and felt something ache behind her ribs. One day there was yet another battle, Fenon said, his voice going careful. In the southern pass above the Ardan Valley, late autumn, the ground already frozen hard. I’d moved our supply lines through the pass 3 days running.

I thought we’d established it as secured. Neesa held very still. The Ardan Valley. She knew that pass. She had spent two weeks with her father’s best military mind designing what would happen there. The false signal fires on the ridge, the decoy wagon tracks leading north. Gerald had been watching the ridge line for 2 days.

Fenon continued, “He told me the morning before that something was wrong. He asked me to change the route.” Fenon’s jaw tightened. I told him he was reading shadows. Neesa said nothing. We were halfway through the pass when the first wave came down. They’d been waiting above us, completely invisible. The second wave cut off the rear before anyone could turn.

He looked at Neesa quietly. It was wellconceived that ambush. The timing, the terrain, the way it prevented retreat. He glanced at her, and she saw the recognition in his eyes, quiet, carrying no accusation, simply knowing. Her heart beat very hard. I would have d.i.ed. Gerald was 10 ft away. He had no reason to be watching me at that particular second. But he was.

He looked at his hands. He moved before the arrow did. The decision he made in that moment. He must have understood exactly what he was choosing. And he chose it anyway. He paused. He wasn’t afraid. I sat with him while he was dying. And he wasn’t afraid. He was concerned about whether I was injured.

He said I had to live because I would do more good than he could. Neesa closed her eyes. And then he asked me to find his daughter, Fenon said, his voice barely above nothing. He told me her name, where she’d be waiting, the milestone on the north road, and he said she had eyes like his, one brown, one green, so I’d know her. The silence was absolute.

Neesa looked at the small figure under the tapestry in the corner. Oh,” Neesa whispered. “You asked who she is to me,” Fenon said. “She is the guilt I carry. If it weren’t for me, she would still have a father.” Neesa reached out and placed her hand on his arm. He looked down at her hand, then slowly up at her face, raw and unguarded and entirely without armor.

A small sound came from the corner. They both turned. Annie sat upright in the chair, her mismatched eyes wide and fixed on Fenon. Annie, Fenon said carefully. He’s dead. Annie whispered. Papa is dead. Fenon held her gaze and nodded once. Because of you. He nodded again. Her small face moved through it, grief and shock and confusion breaking across her features.

Then it crumpled entirely, and she burst into tears and ran for the door. Fenon was on his feet instantly. Stop. Neesa caught his arm. She looked at the cloak barely held around him. You cannot chase a child through the corridors of your own palace like this. And she needs a moment. He stood very still, staring at the closed door.

Let her breathe, Neesa said softly. It won’t help her if you go after her right now. You know that. Fenon turned away from the door slowly like it cost him something physical and sat back down in front of the fire. Neesa sat beside him close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Neither of them spoke. Chapter 7. Annie.

Annie didn’t understand. That was the part that kept her curled behind the curtain on the third floor, knees pulled to her chest. She’d been sitting here since before the sun came up, and she still didn’t understand. Papa was dead. Except Except Papa couldn’t be dead because Papa was Papa. Papa was the one who fixed things.

Who fixed the wobbly chair leg in their room and fixed the way she felt when she was scared by putting his big warm hand on top of her head. But dead people couldn’t do that. Dead people couldn’t come home. So Papa couldn’t be dead because he’d promised he was coming home. He’d said it. He’d knelt down right in front of her and he’d said, “I will come home to you.

” Papa wouldn’t break a promise. So, he had to be coming home. Except Fenon had said. Annie pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Fenon had said it like he knew. He’d nodded twice. Annie didn’t understand how both things could be true. How papa could have promised and Fenon could have nodded. She kept trying to find the piece she was missing.

Like when you had a puzzle and there was one piece that didn’t seem to go anywhere and you kept turning it over. There had to be a place where this fit. Papa was coming home. The war was over. The war being over meant the sold.i.ers came home. That was how wars worked. That was the whole point of wars ending.

She pressed her forehead harder against the glass. Outside the garden was very still. Papa would have hated it here in winter, she thought suddenly. She wanted to tell him about the palace. She wanted to tell him about the painted ceiling and the soft bed and the boots that fit and the king who was secretly a hero even though everyone thought he was scary.

A sound came out of her that she hadn’t meant to make. Small and broken and embarrassing. She pressed her fist against her mouth. Don’t, she told herself. Papa says crying doesn’t fix anything. Annie folded forward over her knees and cried as quietly as she could. She didn’t understand.

She didn’t understand and it wasn’t fair and she wanted her papa. Child, came a voice. Annie<unk>s head came up. The curtain had been pulled aside and the queen mother was crouching there, which was also completely unexpected because the queen mother did not crouch. But right now, she was crouched at Annie’s level and her face her face was kind.

Annie blinked, confused, her cheeks wet. The queen mother’s eyes were soft, warm, even. Poor little thing, she said quietly. Annie wiped her nose on her sleeve. I know, the queen mother said gently. I know what they told you last night. Annie swallowed. I’ve been looking for you, the queen mother said. I wanted to find you because she paused and her expression did something soft.

Because I have something to tell you, Annie. Your father is not dead. The words went into Annie’s ears and then just stopped. “What?” she whispered. “He is alive.” The queen mother’s mouth curved into a warm smile. “He lives, little one, and I know exactly where he is.” Something happened in Annie’s chest.

It was like It was like when you’d been holding your breath for a very long time and someone finally told you that you could breathe. Papa is alive. Her voice came out tiny and trembling. Yes. The Queen Mother reached out and cupped Annie’s wet cheek. And he misses you terribly. Annie<unk>s eyes filled again immediately. The good kind now.

The overwhelmed kind. I knew it. She breathed. The words tumbled out before she could even think them. Straight from somewhere deep and certain. I knew it. I knew Papa wouldn’t. He promised. He promised he’d come back and papa never breaks promises. I knew. I kept saying he wouldn’t, but nobody believed me and I knew.

Would you like to go to him? The queen mother interrupted. Annie was already climbing out from behind the curtain. She was halfway down the back stairs when the thought hit her and she stopped dead on the step. Fenon. First, let’s go tell Fenon. Annie said he’ll be so relieved. The queen mother turned to look at her, patient and warm. Annie.

The queen mother’s voice was gentle, patient. The king loves you very much. You know that. Yes, Annie said. He wants to keep you here. The queen mother’s expression shifted into something careful. He told you your father had d.i.ed so that you would stay with him. Annie stood on the step and looked at the queen mother’s kind face and tried to make those words fit inside the shape of fenon she kept in her chest. They didn’t fit.

“He wouldn’t lie to me,” she said. “He loves you,” the queen mother said simply. “People do foolish things when they’re afraid of losing someone they love.” Annie thought about Fenon’s face last night, the pain in it. “If you want to see your father,” the queen mother said gently, “We must go now and quietly.

If the king knows you’re leaving, he will stop you.” Annie’s whole heart resisted this. But if I just disappear without saying anything, he’ll think I’m angry with him. I’m not angry with him. He’ll be sad. And what about the princess? Your father, the queen mother said softly, is sitting somewhere cold and alone right now, believing he will never see you again.

Annie thought about Papa waiting. Once you’re with him again, the queen mother added gently. You can send word. Explain. Annie looked back up the stairs toward Fenon’s rooms somewhere above her. She thought about Papa’s face. She took the Queen Mother’s hand. “All right,” she whispered. “But I’ll come back later.

” “Of course,” the Queen Mother said warmly. “Of course you will.” They went through the garden first. Annie glanced back at the palace as they passed through the outer gate. “I’ll be back,” she thought. She turned and followed the queen mother. The grounds beyond the gate were frost hardened, the tended paths giving way to scrubby low shrubs and then gradually to trees.

Annie had to take quick steps to keep up with the queen. “Is it far?” Annie asked. “Not terribly,” the queen mother said pleasantly. “The path narrowed, then narrowed further, then became something more like a deer track, a gap between trees where animals had passed rather than people. They left the castle’s gardens down the forest path and into the forest.

They walked on long enough that Annie lost all sense of the palace behind her. No distant bells, no guards, nothing. Long enough that the excited fluttering in her chest had settled into patient certainty. Just ahead, nearly there, Papa was waiting. The trees opened. Annie looked around. The path had narrowed to something more like a deer track. She slowed slightly.

Something felt different. She couldn’t name it, just a change in the air. The quality of the quiet. “Papa’s waiting,” she told herself. “He’s right ahead.” Annie hopped over a tree route and kept going. Papa was alive, and in a few minutes, she’d see him, and he’d pick her up and spin her around.

The path had disappeared entirely. They were just walking through forest. Annie had never been this far from the palace. Something moved through her. Not quite worry, not quite fear. “Are we nearly there?” she asked. “Nearly there,” the queen mother said. The trees opened suddenly into a clearing. Annie looked around eagerly.

A small space, snow still lying in the shadows at the edges where the sun hadn’t reached. Bare earth in the center, frozen hard. Empty. “Papa,” Annie called. She frowned. The clearing was empty. The snow at the edges was undisturbed. Nobody had been here. Annie turned to the queen mother. She was standing completely still.

“Where is my papa?” Annie asked carefully. The queen mother reached behind her and lifted a bow. Annie looked at it. Her mind felt strange. Slow and fast at once. Where is Annie took a step back. You said he was here. The queen mother said nothing. She knocked an arrow with practiced ease. The shaft was black.

The tip was darker still, coated. Annie’s back found a tree. History remembers victory, the queen mother said quietly. It never remembers mercy. Annie shook her head. She didn’t understand what that meant. Papa, she called out, looking around because she was growing scared and she wanted to find him. Did you know, little one? the queen mother said, tilting the arrow to examine it.

That this arrow bears the mark of the southern kingdom. Annie shook her head again. Your d.e.a.t.h will restart the war, the queen mother said pleasantly. And restore order. Why would you restart the war? Annie whispered, her chin was wobbling. It hurts people. War makes this kingdom strong, the queen mother said. It makes my son’s reign powerful.

And I will not have a foolish little girl and a conquered princess dismantle what I have spent his entire life building. Annie<unk>s eyes were filling. “Please,” she whispered. “I want my papa.” The queen mother shook her head slowly. “You’ll be with him soon, child,” she said gently. “And something in the way she said it made Annie<unk>s heart lift for just one small, terrible second.

You’ll join him, the queen mother said softly. in d.e.a.t.h . She drew the bow back. The string pulled taut. Annie pressed herself against the tree trunk and she did the only thing she had left. Papa, she screamed. The word tore out of her. He’ll come, she thought, frantic. He promised. He said he’d always find me.

Papa, please, she screamed. Her voice came back from the trees. Just her voice. Nothing else. The silence settled around her like snow settling on stone. And something in Annie’s chest that had been holding on let go. Suddenly she knew Papa wasn’t coming. She was alone in a forest and the queen mother had an arrow aimed at her heart and nobody knew where she was. And Fenon, she yelled.

The scream ripped out of her just as the queen mother released the arrow. It didn’t touch her. Something hit Annie sideways first. enormous and solid. She flew sideways and hit the snow at the clearing’s edge and laid there for a moment, stunned. Then she heard it. She had heard it once before in the dining room, a cry that started as a snarl and broke apart in the middle, raw and ragged.

The massive black wolf stood in the center of the clearing. The black arrow was buried deep in his shoulder. “No!” Annie breathed. She was across the clearing before she decided to move, throwing herself against his neck. “You’re fine,” she said into his fur. His legs shook beneath him. She could feel them shaking. Those enormous legs, and then they buckled.

He went down slowly. First the front legs, then the back. Annie went down with him. His breathing was wrong. Too slow, too far apart. Stand up, she said. It came out barely sound at all. Stand up, please. He didn’t stand. “Please,” Annie said, and the forest erupted. Neesa came through the trees behind her boots on frozen ground.

Sold.i.ers, many of them, fast and purposeful. The guards spread across the clearing while Neesa’s eyes swept everything in one second. The queen mother, the bow, the fallen wolf. “Guards,” Neesa called, her voice controlled. “I am only going to say this once. Seize her.” They did. The guards restrained the queen mother instantly. Unhand me? The queen mother cried.

Unhand you? Neesa scoffed. After you tried to murder a child under the king’s protection after you’ve poisoned your own son. It was an accident, the queen mother said. Was it an accident? Neesa said, “That you’ve been drugging him his entire life to make him think he had uncontrollable bursts of violence when it isn’t true.

” Fury flashed in the queen mother’s eyes. You can’t prove it, she said. Oh yes, I can. Neesa replied. Venon will not believe it, the queen mother argued. He will, Neesa said. You tried to hurt Annie. He’ll never forgive you. The guards dragged her back. Mercy weakens kings, the queen mother screamed. Weakens empires.

You will all thank me someday. Her screaming was swallowed by the trees. Nesa crouched in the snow beside Annie. It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly. Annie<unk>s hands tightened in the black fur. She thought about Papa teaching her about trust, about kind eyes meaning good hearts, about how you could tell the ones worth trusting because they kept showing up.

She pressed her face into Fenon’s fur. “You showed up,” she thought. “We need to move him,” Neesa said, already rising, voice shifting into the tone that meant things were going to happen now, quickly and properly. The healer. Someone go now. Fetch the healer now. Guards moved. Annie didn’t. Her tears fell against his wound. Chapter 8. Neesa.

Fenon had been unconscious for 3 days, and Neesa had filled every hour of them with tasks, because tasks were the only thing standing between her and the particular kind of fear she refused to examine too closely. She’d met with the council every morning, overseen the queen mother’s confinement, and still in the quiet moments she couldn’t fill.

She found herself thinking about green eyes and a voice saying her name in the dark. She pushed the thought away every time until on the fourth morning she went to his chambers. She told herself she was checking on Annie. The child was curled in the chair beside Fenan’s bed, her small face pale and still in a way that worried Neesa more than crying would have.

Beside her, Fenon lay motionless under heavy blankets, his breathing slow and shallow. The healers had been cautiously worried, which was the worst kind of worried. Neesa settled into the chair beside Annie without speaking. “He’s going to be fine,” she said. Annie said nothing. “Annie,” Neesa insisted. It’s my fault,” Annie murmured.

“I went with her.” “Everyone trusted her,” Neesa argued. Annie looked up. “You didn’t,” she said quietly. Neesa opened her mouth. “No, but I trust no one.” The ghost of something crossed Annie’s face. “Not even me,” she asked. Nesa put her arm around the child. “All right,” she said. “Perhaps I trust you a little bit.

” Annie leaned into her and Fenon stirred. His brow creased like a man fighting his way up from somewhere deep and dark. Annie was out of the chair before Neesa could breathe. Fenon. She stopped herself just short of throwing herself at him. He looked at her and smiled, small and tired and entirely real. Neesa felt something loosen in her chest. Annie couldn’t stop herself then.

She threw her arms around his neck, making him wse. Neesa was already moving forward, but Fenon caught her eye and shook his head. His arms came up slow and clearly painful and wrapped around Annie. Anyway, Annie pulled back, eyes wet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have told you I was leaving.

” “No, it was my fault,” Annie, Fenon said, his voice rough but steady. “I should have seen what my mother was doing long before.” His eyes moved briefly to Neesa, warm and grateful. Thanks to the princess’s investigation, when they told me you’d left with her, I knew immediately something was wrong. Neesa said nothing.

Her chest did an inconvenient thing. Fennon’s expression darkened. She remembered those three days from the other side. The look on his face when they’d told him Annie was gone. That split second before the king reassembled. pure terror, raw and absolute. He’d shifted before she’d finished speaking, the massive black wolf tearing through the palace doors.

Neesa had run after him with every sold.i.er she could gather. “It is up to me to protect you,” Fenon said to Annie. “That is my responsibility, not yours.” Annie looked at him with eyes full of gratitude. “But you did,” she said. “You came.” Fennin’s expression softened and saddened at once. I should have protected you better.

He paused. I should have told you about your father. Annie<unk>s eyes filled immediately. Why didn’t you? She whispered. Because I didn’t want you to be sad, Fenon said. And because when you talked about him, it was like he really was still alive. Like I might see my friend again. Annie’s eyes went wide.

It was selfish of me. Fenon said. “Your friend?” Annie whispered. “You were friends?” Neesa went still. The night by the fire, Annie had woken to the end of the story. She hadn’t heard the beginning. “Yes,” Fenon said. “He was. He looked at his hands, then up at Annie. He showed up for me in battle when there was an arrow meant for me.” He paused.

And he did the only thing a man who is brave could do. He stepped before it. The room held still. The arrow hit him instead. And he he saved my life. Silence. Then barely above nothing. I wish he’d saved himself instead. Neesa felt it settle in her chest like a stone finding still water. I wish I could bring him back to you, Fenon said.

Annie had gone completely still. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks, and she pressed her hand over her mouth. “Papa,” she whispered, small and breaking. “Annie didn’t look at Fenon with anger. Not a trace of it. Only sadness and something working its way toward the surface. He said, “Helping people makes the world better,” Annie said through her tears.

She looked at Fenon. “That must be why he saved you, king. So you could help everyone.” Her voice was soft and certain. Don’t you see? He chose you. Fennin’s hand reached toward her, jaw ticking. Sounds like something your father would do, he said quietly. He cupuffed her cheek gently. He asked me to come looking for you, Annie.

So, I did. Annie smiled bright and trembling and real through all the tears. If you will let me, Fenon said slowly. I will never stop looking out for you. Annie frowned slightly. You won’t?” she asked, confused. “If you will accept it, Annie,” he paused. “I would have you as my daughter.

” Annie blinked, tears still falling, her face very still and very young. “I would not be replacing your father,” Fenon said quickly, and Neesa could hear the worry in it. “This man who commanded armies, anxious about the answer a child would give him.” “Not ever. But I would like to be the next best thing to you.

To adopt you, to care for you as my own. Silence, then softly, barely a breath. Truly, truly, Fenon said, “I love you like you are my own, Annie.” She burst into tears and flung herself at him. He made a sound. Pain definitely. But his arms came around her completely and held on, face pressed into the top of her head.

Neesa smiled and stood. She slipped out quietly, pulling the door closed behind her and stood for a moment in the corridor with her back against the cool stone wall. He had destroyed her world. That was true and would always be true. But the tyrant she’d hated felt very far away, and whatever had replaced him, she decided, was something she would examine at a later date. Probably never.

She walked back toward her apartments, her heart doing something complicated against her will. Epilogue. Neesa stood beneath the archway, watching Annie chase a butterfly across the courtyard. Blue dress already grass stained, silver cirlet worn a skew. Princess Annie, no longer waiting at a milestone in the snow, no longer alone.

Across the courtyard, Fenan stood with his advisers. Free from his mother’s influence, the woman currently rotting in a cell where she belonged. Fenon had become someone Neesa hadn’t anticipated. A man rebuilding his kingdom with the same determination he’d once used to conquer others.

He’d declared the peace unconditional. She didn’t have to marry him. Her people were safe. She should feel nothing but relief. She looked at Fenon, who had stopped listening to his adviser entirely, and was watching Annie with an expression of profound, helpless fondness. Neesa looked away. She didn’t understand why she felt so untethered.

“I hope you have a safe journey home, princess,” Fenon said, approaching. “Thank you, your majesty,” she smiled. “My escort has been well briefed.” “I would hope so. It is a king’s duty, after all, to see his guests return home safely.” Neesa felt the corner of her mouth pull upward despite herself. You’ve expanded that definition recently.

A flicker of humor crossed his face, then faded. Silence stretched between them. Peace certainly does suit your kingdom, she said. It suits yours as well, he replied. Another pause. I apologize, Fenon said quietly. For the pain I have caused you. Neesa met his gaze. You must be eager to get back,” he murmured. “I,” Neesa cleared her throat.

“The past is in the past. From now on, we enter an era of peace.” They looked at each other. His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Will you?” He stopped, started again. “Will you miss it here?” Neesa’s heart skipped a beat. “More than I expected,” she said softly. His expression caught fire briefly, hope flaring in his eyes.

He opened his mouth, closed it. It was never my place to keep you here, he sighed, resigned. But I am happy that you stayed as long as you have. It was an honor to have you. Neesa felt the disappointment land in her chest. Yes, well, she said and looked away. Princess Neesa, what are you doing? Annie arrived breathless, hair loose, cheeks flushed.

I am going home, Annie, Neesa said. Annie<unk>s face scrunched into a frown. But you are home. Neesa’s throat closed entirely. Annie looked between them. Why is no one saying anything? Neither answered. So Annie did what Annie always did. She solved it. A families don’t walk away from each other, she said firmly.

Little one, things are not always so simple. Yes, they are. They are when you love someone, she pointed at Fenan. And I know that you love her. Fenon stiffened slightly. Annie, you watch her like you are afraid she’ll disappear. She turned to Neesa. And I know you love him. You stare at him when he’s not looking.

A pause. Only a blind person would not see this. It is a good thing I have eyes. She took Neesa’s hand, warm, tiny, sure, and placed it in Fenon’s. The contact was electric. “Is it true?” Fenon murmured. Neesa looked at him. this man who had been her enemy, her captor, her reluctant ally, and now something else entirely.

She couldn’t find a single word adequate enough. “But he must have seen something in her face.” “Maybe it is a very good thing Annie has eyes,” he said quietly. “Because I am just now starting to see things clearly,” he straightened. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your loyalty. And I know you owe me nothing.

But if you choose to remain, Neesa, I promise you will not regret it. You are a part of this home, and it needs you. I think I need it as well, she said shily. Something broke open in his expression, warm and real and unguarded. He stepped closer patiently, giving her every opportunity to step back. “Good,” he said softly. Because I need you.

You do? I can’t seem to live without you. Are you asking me to stay?” she whispered. He cupped her cheek gently. “I’m begging you to, princess.” She heard Annie squeal. And then Fenon was kissing her, and she forgot everything else entirely. The carriage waiting below, the journey home, all the carefully maintained distance she’d built up over months.

She forgot all of it. When they broke apart, Annie was beaming with the satisfaction of someone whose plan had worked exactly as intended. “Perfect,” she announced. “Now I have both parents.” Fenon laughed, warm and real and completely unguarded. Nesa laughed too, still in his arms, her face against his shoulder.

“There it is,” she thought. That sound she’d been collecting for months without meaning to. She was going to be hearing it for a very long time. she found. She didn’t mind at all. Thank you for listening. I hope you enjoyed this story. These stories only exist because of you. Because you listen, you comment, you share, and that means more to me than you know.

If you’d ever like to go deeper with bonus chapters and exclusive full stories, you can join me on Patreon. You can also simply follow along for free and stay connected. Either way, I’m so grateful you’re here, Lily.