THE FORGOTTEN PRINCESS IS NOW THE QUEEN

CHAPTER SIX

I froze at the sight before me. I tried to reach out to my father through our mind link, to call for help, but I couldn't. The scene was too overwhelming; my thoughts were scattered, and I couldn't focus.

Then I heard the sound again.

This time, it was much closer.

Slowly, I pushed myself upright, using the car for support. My hands trembled so badly that I couldn't even pick up my phone.

Without warning, a giant wolf—twice my size—leapt at me. Somehow, with the little strength I had left, I managed to dodge. It crashed into the car and tumbled to the ground, but it was back on its feet almost instantly. Then came more growls. More wolves emerged from the woods, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Rogues.

They were infamous for their violence and defiance. Every rogue bore a permanent red mark on their left ear, a stain that could neither be hidden nor removed. It was less a mark and more a curse.

But rogues weren't supposed to be anywhere near the city. How had they gotten this close? I stumbled backward, barely managing to stay on my feet.

I tried once more to reach my father, but the connection wouldn't form. Panic swirled in my mind until, at last, I brushed against another presence. It wasn't familiar, but it carried the unmistakable strength of an Alpha. Without hesitation, I reached out.

Help me! I'm on the road in the middle of the forest, near White Castle. I won't stay here much longer—I’m heading west through the forest. I know a way home from there. Please, hurry. There are ten rogue wolves surrounding me, and I can't hold them off for long.

There was no reply, but somehow, I felt certain he had heard me.

The rogues moved closer, circling me like predators closing in on wounded prey. With no other choice, I shifted.

The moment they saw my true form, they stopped.

Fear rippled through them.

In our world, white wolves stood at the top of the hierarchy. Brown wolves came next, followed by gray. At the very bottom were omegas, usually light peach in color. I was a white wolf. My father was white, and my mother was brown. I had inherited much of my father's power, but without proper training, that power remained untamed.

For a moment, the rogues hesitated. Then they advanced again. Their fear had faded. They could sense it—despite my rank, I was weak.

As they closed in, I seized my chance. I sprang out of their circle and bolted toward the western side of the forest, just as I had told the mysterious Alpha. The rogues chased after me relentlessly.

Within minutes, exhaustion set in. My breathing grew ragged, each gasp burning in my chest. Pain stabbed through my lungs, but I couldn't stop. I refused to die there.

My legs ached, and soon I smelled blood. Glancing down, I saw my paws torn and bleeding against the rough forest floor. I hadn't shifted in so long that they had grown soft.

At last, I neared the edge of the dense forest. Home was in sight.

But I was too weak to howl.

My vision blurred, and a sharp ringing filled my ears. The world tilted beneath me, and I collapsed.

This is it, I thought.

I closed my eyes.

Then came a chorus of agonized howls.

Forcing my eyes open, I saw the rogues falling one by one. Some fled in terror, while others crumpled where they stood. Standing among them was a wolf unlike any I had ever seen.

A black wolf.

He was enormous—larger even than my father. Power radiated from him in waves. His coat was as dark as midnight, and his eyes gleamed an eerie, luminous white.

He threw back his head and released a howl so fierce it seemed to shake the very ground beneath us.

Then he turned toward me.

But my strength was gone. My eyelids grew too heavy to hold open, and darkness claimed me.

Just before I lost consciousness, his scent reached me.

Warm wood after rain—earthy, rich, and strangely comforting.

Who was he?