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Zion kept reminding himself to stay patient. With one arm supporting the princess and the other free, he was at least able to open doors or defend against any sudden attacks. But time was running out–the magic of the cloak was beginning to fade, and he had no choice but to retreat for now. Holding her tightly, he retraced his steps, moving swiftly and silently through
the castle.
How did he know she was truly the princess?
It went back years ago, when he was just a boy. His father had brought him to the palace, and that was when he first saw her–the little girl who had captivated everyone’s attention. She had long, wavy golden hair, and when sunlight touched it, it shimmered like strands of molten gold. She looked almost angelic. That was the moment Zion learned what it meant to have a crush.
He had watched her play in the palace gardens, chasing butterflies with such innocent joy, neve
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trying to catch them, only following them gently. Then their eyes met. Her golden gaze sparkled like starlight bright and warm, and for the first time in his young
life, his heart had pounded so hard he thought it might burst.
Then she smiled at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners, making her chubby cheeks stand out adorably. A soft pink blush bloomed on her porcelain–white skin, smooth and flawless like polished jade. That moment etched itself into his memory, vivid and unforgettable. He never got the chance to ask for her name–just as he was about to, the Queen had called her away. That was when he realized… she must have been the princess.
But now, seeing her again, everything felt different.
“Of course you’d feel differently,” Shura suddenly cut into Zion’s reminiscing. “Back then, you were just a brat, drawn in by a pretty face. But now? You should know better. You’re only meant to feel a pull toward our fated mate. Everything else was just a distraction.” Zion rolled his eyes in exasperation, but he couldn’t
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argue. Shura was right. And strangely, he felt relieved. The same spark, the same youthful attraction he once felt toward the princess–it wasn’t there anymore. Not pull. No bond. Just the distant echo of a childhood
memory.
‘Well, I can only say I’m loyal to my mate,‘ he thought firmly–but the thought barely settled before his mind betrayed him, drifting back to Addison. Again.
How many times had it happened this week? Four? Maybe more. And the most peaceful sleep he’d had lately was the one filled with vivid dreams of him mating with Addison–wildly, endlessly, as if no amount of her could satisfy the hunger burning inside
him.
Her soft whimpers, the way she moaned his name–it haunted him in the best and worst ways. Every time he remembered her voice, that dream, that heat… his body reacted before he could stop it and his cock is going hard.
‘Damn it.‘
“Look who’s getting horny,” Shura snorted, his vice
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laced with amusement. But deep down, even he was stirred. He hadn’t mated with Addison either, and the frustration was starting to boil over–especially during
rut.
For mated male werewolves, rut was an excruciating experience, a biological cycle meant to increase the chance of impregnating their mate during knotting. It mirrored a she–wolf’s heat. During this time, their instincts took over–they craved, ached, needed.
The cycle could last for days, sometimes more, until their physical needs were met. Releasing their knot usually ended it. But if they didn’t, the pain would grow unbearable. They’d go nearly feral, desperate to reach their mate.
Zion and Addison had never consummated their bond. So when his rut and her heat struck–always around the same time–they couldn’t do anything but suffer. Other mated wolves became inseparable during this cycle, locked away in each other for days.
But Zion?
- He could only curl up in agony, every inch of l…n
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feeling like he might explode from the inside out.
Meanwhile, Addison had to hide herself deep in the forest whenever her heat came. Her pheromones were overwhelming–so potent that every unmated male in the pack would be drawn to her like mindless beasts, desperate to claim her.
To suppress it, she would retreat to the lake nestled far from the main grounds, submerging herself in the cool water up to her neck. Sometimes, even dunking her entire head under just to keep the heat from reaching her scalp and triggering her body further. It was the only way she could bear the cycle without endangering anyone–or herself.
Zion’s thoughts derailed again, spiraling out of control. Just remembering Addison in heat stirred something in him he didn’t want to acknowledge. He was supposed to hate her–detest her.
Not crave her.
Not feel this… pull.
If he gave in, everything he worked so hard t
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suppress would unravel.
Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus as he exited the palace.
Outside, Greg and the others were already waiting. Greg’s eyes widened when he saw the woman in Zion’s arms, his brows drawing into a skeptical frown. He immediately mind–linked Zion. “Alpha Zion, who is
this?”
Zion didn’t waste time. “The missing princess. I found her captive inside.”
Greg’s expression shifted in an instant–from suspicion to reverence–as realization hit him. Zion saw the
gears turning behind his eyes, but cut the thoughts short.
“What about the gate?” he asked, his voice sharp with urgency.
“It’s fully open, Alpha Zion. We can fire the flare now,” Greg replied, almost immediately.
Zion nodded once, and a werewolf standing at the side ` quickly pulled the string at the bottom of the are
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stick. A spark ignited, followed by a burst of red light shooting into the sky. For a brief moment, the flare hung in the air before it exploded in a brilliant flash, visible to everyone–the vampires outside and those still in the palace.
There was no time to waste. The werewolves, fueled by urgency, immediately shifted into their wolf forms, charging toward the now–open gate. They raced through it, eager to breach the palace and take control.
While this was happening, Zion and his team quietly made their way out of the hole once again. Working together, they carefully pulled Claire out, as she lacked the strength to crawl on her own. However, despite her weakness, she refused to let anyone touch her except Zion.
Zion’s instincts screamed with repulsion and disdain, but he fought to keep his temper in check–especially with Shura, whose frustration mirrored his own. They couldn’t afford to offend the royal family, not under these circumstances.
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So, Zion swallowed his discomfort, offering her a patient smile. His goal was simple: if he remained composed and gentle, she wouldn’t have reason to complain to the Alpha King or punish him or his pack members.
After escaping, Zion led Claire back to their camp. He fed her, since she refused to move or do anything for herself, clearly expecting to be served. Gritting his teeth, Zion complied, suppressing his irritation. But when he asked her who the father of her pup was, she stayed silent.
Zion remembered she’d been kidnapped during her coming–of–age ceremony–before she ever had a mate. So how did she end up pregnant? Had she somehow met her fated/mate during captivity? The possibility nagged at him. One thing he was certain of: it was highly unlikely her child belonged to a vampire.
