The Alpha King's Mate Is An Ancient

FOUR

Beautiful. She breathed as her face caught the silver glow.

The full moon shone brightly at its peak, but like every other full moon, the ache began.

It started deep within her bones; a slow, crawling soreness that spread through her body. The dull but consistent pressure in her mind until her head began to throb. Sounds sharpened until they blurred together, scents grew overwhelming, layered atop one another until her chest tightened, and her breaths came shallow. The moonlight felt invasive, almost cruel.

She never felt connected to the moon, she felt exposed, yet like every other full moon, she called it beautiful.

Tonight, however, something felt… wrong.

An unease crept through her, cold and insistent. A sudden sadness rose without warning, so sharp her eyes stung, and her throat constricted painfully. It was too much. Too heavy. A grief she hadn’t invited, yet one that settled deep in her chest as if it had always been waiting.

Perhaps, it was a reminder of how unfortunate she was to have been born. Her eyes dimmed as a sad smile settled on her lips.

But that thought barely settled before a loud howl broke through the night. It was raw, agonizing, and worst of all, it was familiar.

Pete.

Her breath caught violently, and her eyes went wide and wild. His every emotion crashing into her at once—fear, pain, desperation and guilt; so strong, it nearly buckled her knees. The bond between them screamed, pulling her with a force she couldn’t resist.

She ran.

Blinded by confusion and over-heightened senses, she followed the sound, followed the bond, until her lungs burned, and her vision swarmed, until she was met with an already gathering crowd.

She shoved through them desperately, heart pounding, slowing only, when Pete came into view. On his knees was a body collapsed against him.

Her world collapsed with it.

“Pa—”

The word broke apart in her mouth, strangled by sobs. Her hands shook violently as she reached for him, fingers brushing skin that was now cold, too cold. His chest was still. The sight of her father, broken and lifeless, forced a scream up her throat until it ripped free.

Lillia shot upright with a gasp, the sound ripping from her throat as if she had just survived suffocation.

Sweat soaked her body, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. Her hands instinctively flew to her chest, fingers digging into fabric, as she fought for breath.

It took several moments before the room came back into focus. It was still a bedroom fit for royalty. Only this time, the lights were dimmed, and the curtains had been drawn to hide the tall windows, allowing little moonlight into the room.

It was just a dream.

Her vision blurred as tears spilled freely. She curled inward, shoulders shaking as the grief she had held at bay finally crashed through her defenses.

“Father, what happened to you out there?” Lillia’s voice broke. "I—I couldn’t save him.”

You were never meant to. Fenris’ voice stirred within her, low and steady, wrapping around her fractured thoughts like an anchor.

But his death was wrong. He was all alone. I couldn't... I couldn't say goodbye. Lillia squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing hard as her deep throaty sobs echoed. “He couldn’t have just… died like that,” she whispered. “Not when the threat was strong enough to warrant the elders' presence. Not when he was the only one who fell.”

Memories surfaced unbidden; how vague the elders had been when they spoke of it. How quickly they had ushered her away. How the healers had tried to block her from seeing him. Pete's guilt. She had felt his guilt strongly, out of all his emotions, until he rejected her and their bond broke.

She had also seen them—her father's wounds. They were large and brutal, almost intentional. They were like nothing she recognised, and Pete had the exact same. She remembered he had tried to hide when she confronted him.

Why was he guilty if he fought by my father's side? What really happened that night?

Fenris growled softly. You felt it then. You feel it now. Something was wrong.

Lillia wiped her tears away, jaw tightening as resolve hardened in her chest. “Then I will right the wrong,” she said quietly. “Whatever the truth is, I will uncover it.”

But first, I will become stronger.

A sudden memory flashed at that thought—deep dark eyes, heat, a hand clamped around her wrist, his scent, her words—

Then train me, I will prove it to you.

Lillia’s pulse quickened, just as a soft knock sounded from behind the door, followed by the head-maiden’s voice.

“My lady.”

Lillia stiffened. She had almost forgotten this was her life now, comfort and luxury, a sharp contrast to her life in Clearwater, despite being the Alpha’s daughter. She adjusted her position and exhaled softly, calming her senses before she responded.

“Come.”

“Good morning, my lady. I hope your night was restful. We have come to prepare you for the day.” The head-maiden greeted, bowing briefly, as the assistant continued.

“Today, you will host a tea ceremony for visiting nobles. At noon, you will visit the healers’ hall, after which you will offer blessings and participate in moon pray—”

Lillia cut her off instantly with a raise of her hand. For a brief moment, she watched them silently, then spoke.

“Come closer.”

The maidens shared a glance, hesitating only a fraction, but obeyed.

“I don’t know your names,” Lillia said evenly.

Surprise flickered across their faces. The head-maiden coughed, then bowed her head quickly. “Forgive me, my lady. I am Maera, your head-maiden,” she said. “They are, Kyra…” gesturing to the assistant, and then a new face, “and Selene. Selene is a new addition to better serve you.”

More like an added pair of eyes to observe you. Fenris hissed.

“Maera, Kyra and Selene.” Lillia nodded once. “Where’s Regaleon?”

Maera’s expression tightened at Lillia’s sudden question change.

“His Majesty trains at this hour.” She answered with her head still bowed.

“Take me to him.”