The Prince and His Girl

The Priory part 1

Tobi’s POV

I stared down at my phone long after the screen dimmed, her message still glowing in my mind. Lila wasn’t ready to talk about the dream—not really—but even her careful deflection confirmed what I already suspected. She remembered the clearing. She remembered me.

We weren’t just dreaming about each other.

We were sharing the dream.

I’d heard whispers about it before. Among bonded mates, especially those with powerful bloodlines, it was said that dreams could become shared spaces—places beyond time and distance. But never like this. Never with a human. And certainly never before the bond had been completed.

It was supposed to be impossible. And yet… there she was. Night after night, finding me in that forest clearing like it was a sacred place only we could enter.

The old stories called it dream-walking. Some believed it was myth. Others, like Mother, might argue it was divine fate. But the truth was, I didn’t understand it—and that terrified me more than I wanted to admit.

If Lila could feel me this strongly already… what would happen when she discovered what I really was? What I was capable of?

What if this dream connection was just the beginning—and it destroyed her?

I couldn’t risk waiting. I needed answers. Real ones. Not the half-truths passed down around campfires or the embellished tales in court.

There was only one place to go.

Mauros.

A town older than any map, hidden in the shadow of a forgotten mountain range. There, nestled in stone and silence, lived the monks of the Priory. They were keepers of the first histories—records written long before the kingdoms of men or wolves. No one knew how much truth they hoarded, only that they guarded it with their lives. If anyone could explain what was happening between Lila and me, it was them.

But going meant leaving her behind. And with him still in town… the risk twisted my stomach in knots.

Oscar De Silva.

The man was a living weapon—hulking, merciless, loyal to no one but himself. And yet Mother had struck a deal with the devil. She thought he could coax me back to Aruyios. Maybe she even believed he’d do it gently. But I wasn’t so sure. The longer he stayed near Lila, the more likely it became that he’d sniff out what she meant to me. And then?

He’d use her. He wouldn’t hesitate.

I paced the apartment, heart pounding. I needed to get Oscar off my scent. If I made it look like I was running—really running—he’d follow. That’s what he did. Like a predator on blood, he couldn’t resist a good hunt.

And while he chased shadows, I’d be in Mauros getting the truth.

I moved quickly, grabbing my backpack and stuffing it with two changes of clothes, a burner phone, my father’s old hunting knife, and a small pouch of coins that would pass as currency if needed. Most importantly, I packed the gold locket Lila once wore. A keepsake, yes—but more than that. A reminder. Of why I couldn’t give up.

On the kitchen counter, I spread out a map and traced the least obvious route—one that twisted through river crossings, gravel roads, and towns so small they didn’t appear on GPS. It was absurdly complicated. But that was the point.

I’d promised her Monday. A coffee date. I’d be back by then or not at all.

After one last glance at the window—toward the town where Lila was likely just finishing breakfast—I grabbed the car keys and made my way to the garage.

The black Range Rover sat quietly in the corner, its paint shining like obsidian in the dim light. The key fob read “Range Rover” in silver letters—one of Wren’s many indulgences, no doubt. I unlocked it with a chirp and tossed my bag in the passenger seat.

As I pulled out of the garage, tires crunching over gravel, a surge of guilt hit me square in the chest. She’d be alone. And even if she didn’t feel it yet, I would.

I checked my phone again. No new messages.

I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

Still, I pressed the pedal harder, slipping onto the open road just as the morning sun bled over the horizon. Behind me, Oscar would find an empty apartment and a trail grown cold. Ahead, hopefully, were answers. Answers that might save us both.

Oscar’s POV

Sitting alone in this cramped hotel room was beginning to drive me mad. Sure, it was miles better than the castle prison cell I’d been rotting in for the past three years, but freedom in theory was not the same as freedom in practice. I was still trapped—by a mission, by the promise of a future, by a leash held firmly in Queen Catherine’s hands.

The prince was a fool.

A charming one, maybe. One with good hair and better instincts than most gave him credit for—but still a fool. He had no idea how to disappear properly, no understanding of how to move without leaving crumbs behind. The only trick he’d figured out was that cash was king when you wanted to go undetected. And sure, he hadn’t used his credit cards since arriving in Lenweil… but he’d made the fatal mistake of keeping the same damn phone.

And phones? Phones were goldmines.

Using a few old contacts—ones who owed me more than just favors—I got a hit list of every town and city Tobias had visited during his eighteen-month "sojourn." The list was extensive, but within minutes, patterns began to emerge. The prince had bounced around like a leaf on the wind, rarely staying in one place more than four days. A bored runaway, sampling life on the outskirts of his title. Probably tearing through local women and bars before moving on.

But then... a deviation. Eight months in, he stopped. Forreston. A dusty, unremarkable little blip of a town. And there, he stayed. Ten months.

Ten.

What was in Forreston that kept a royal blooded wolf grounded?

If I were a betting man—and I often was—I’d put every coin I had on a girl. Maybe a certain girl named Lila.

It didn’t take long to cross-reference Forreston’s council records and scrape through public databases. Population: under ten thousand. Mostly farmers and small business owners. Internet security? Laughable. Within an hour I had every registered resident named Lila—or close enough. Four candidates stood out:

Lilly O’Shea — Maybe. But a stretch.

Lilac Moonbeam — Sounded like she lived in a yurt and sold kombucha at markets.

Delila Alden — Now that had potential.

And an 86-year-old widow named Lila Jenkins, who I hoped wasn’t the one he was calling "dream girl."

Delila Alden.

Eighteen and a half. Born and raised in Forreston. Only child of Sandi and Greg Alden—Greg owned a construction company. Sandi was a stay-at-home mother.

Known to friends, family, and the internet as simply Lila.

I found her social media profiles easily enough. Too easily, really. People had no idea how much of their lives they handed over to strangers. Scroll after scroll, image after image. Pretty. Human. Soft around the edges, with kind eyes and a face the Prince might have loved. But she didn’t strike me as extraordinary. There were photos of her with friends, hiking, eating ice cream, dancing in someone’s backyard. A few solemn selfies, too—moody and artsy. I snorted to myself. What did she have to be solemn about?

I nearly gave up. Nearly tossed the burner phone across the room.

But then, I clicked on a link buried on her profile—her father’s business: Alden Construction.

The website was barebones and unimpressive. A family-run company with a long-standing history in Forreston. I idly clicked through a gallery labeled “Meet the Team” and—

Bingo.

There he was. Right in the center of a team photo: Prince Tobias. Dressed down in a T-shirt and work boots, dust smudged across his cheek, grinning wide as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

He had embedded himself in her world. Played the role of the common man. And for ten months, he'd stuck around. That meant something. A man like Tobias didn't commit to anything—except her, it seemed.

I leaned back in the stiff hotel chair, a slow smile spreading across my face. I picked up the burner phone and dialed the encrypted line Catherine had given me. It went straight to voicemail.

Typical.

When the tone beeped, I said calmly, “Ma’am, not only have I found him… I’ve found her. Your boy didn’t just run—he built a life. And I think I’ve just found the ticket to bring him back… willingly.”

Click.

I stared out the small hotel window. Rain was beginning to streak down the glass, dull and grey. Lenweil was a quiet town—but not for long. Not with the pieces moving now. Tobi wouldn’t run forever. And if he did? Well, every man had his weakness.

Now I knew the Prince’s.

Her name was Lila Alden.