(Lucian’s POV)
The seven brothers were too quiet. Trees were still, no wind, no birds. Just the rhythm of my paws hitting the forest floor as I kept low beneath the brush.
I stayed in wolf form to avoid attention. My human body caused too much of a stir these days; royal blood had a way of announcing itself even when you didn’t want it to.
But I wasn’t here to impress anyone.
I was here for her.
Angel.
My wolf snarled every time I tried to calm him. He wanted her safe, whole, protected. Our child, too, I could feel it, deep in my bones:
She was in danger, close danger.
The prophecy whispered through my skull like smoke:
The only hope remains within the last King.
I was choosing her; she was my last hope. I was the last King.
A twig snapped behind me.
I didn’t spin, no need. The
