His Queen by Choice

PROLOGUE

At ten years old, Princess Maeve Ardenne believed the safest place in the world was home.

She had never questioned the warmth that filled the palace halls or the smiles that greeted her wherever she went. To her, Veradelle was not a kingdom divided by noble houses and ancient bloodlines. It was simply the place where she had learned to read under the shade of the palace gardens, where she chased butterflies through blooming flowers, and where her parents always found time for her, no matter how busy they were.

That afternoon was no different.

The palace was alive with preparations for the royal banquet. Servants moved from one hall to another carrying flowers, polished silverware, and trays of freshly baked pastries. Noble families from neighboring kingdoms had been invited to celebrate another year of peace, and every corner of the castle reflected the excitement that came with the occasion.

Maeve paid little attention to any of it.

She spent most of the day wandering through the gardens with a book in her hands before returning to the palace just in time to find her parents together. The Alpha King had set aside the endless scrolls that demanded his attention the moment he saw his daughter, while the queen, elegant as always, smiled at the sight of her ink-stained fingers and grass-covered slippers.

Moments like that were common in the royal household.

Despite the weight of the crown they carried, her parents never allowed duty to steal the little joys of family. They laughed with her, teased her whenever she escaped her lessons, and reminded her that no title would ever matter more than the kindness she showed others.

Before leaving to welcome their guests, the queen fastened a silver pendant around Maeve's neck.

It was a simple crescent moon, delicate enough to disappear under the folds of her dress, yet precious enough to have been passed down through generations of queens. Maeve admired it with the innocent excitement only a child could possess, unaware that it would become the last gift she would ever receive from her mother.

The palace remained lively as the afternoon slowly gave way to evening. Guests continued to arrive, servants moved quickly from one room to another, and the kitchens were filled with the rich smell of freshly prepared food.

It was in the middle of that ordinary bustle that the first warning horn sounded.

At first, few paid it any attention. The palace was crowded, and noise was expected on a day like that. But when the horn sounded again, longer and louder than before, every servant stopped where they stood. The guards were the first to react.

Within moments, hurried footsteps echoed through the corridors as soldiers rushed toward the palace gates. The laughter gradually died away as people looked around in confusion. One by one, conversations stopped, and uneasy glances were exchanged before anyone understood what was happening.

By the time the truth reached the royal family, it was already too late.

The palace had been breached.

The celebration ended before it had even begun.

Maeve couldn't make sense of what was happening around her. Only moments earlier, the palace had been filled with music and laughter. Now servants hurried through the corridors, some calling for their loved ones while others simply ran without knowing where to go. Guards rushed past with drawn swords as smoke slowly crept into the halls, carrying the sharp smell of burning wood.

Through it all, her parents never let go of her hand.

Then she looked up at them.

For the first time in her life, she saw fear on their faces. It wasn't fear of the people attacking the palace or of the battle taking place beyond its walls. It was the fear of two parents who knew their daughter was in danger.

Hidden passages that had remained secret for generations were finally opened. Her mother led her through corridors she had never known existed, holding tightly to her hand as though letting go, even for a second, would mean losing her forever.

Maeve didn't understand why they were running.

She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting her father to follow them as he always had. She believed the danger would pass, that the palace guards would protect them, and that everything would return to normal before morning.

Children often believed the world could not change in a single day.

They were wrong.

Separated from her parents, Maeve was led into one of the palace's hidden passages. She kept looking over her shoulder, waiting to see her mother following behind, but the entrance closed before she got the chance. Believing they would find her once it was safe, she continued through the narrow tunnel until it finally opened into the forest beyond the palace grounds.

By then, the sun had almost disappeared, leaving only the last light of evening between the trees. Maeve had never been in the forest alone before. She didn't know where she was going, only that she had been told to keep moving. Every unfamiliar sound made her flinch, but she was too frightened to stop.

She hadn't gone very far when she came across a boy a few years older than her. He looked no older than fourteen and had clearly been running himself. The moment he noticed the frightened little girl standing alone in the middle of the forest, he knew something was wrong. He didn't ask who she was or why she was there. Instead, he took her hand and led her farther away from the palace.

They had barely made it any distance before another loud crash echoed through the forest. A burning tree gave way and came down in front of them. The boy reacted without thinking, pushing Maeve out of the way. They escaped the worst of it, but not without injuries. A large branch struck them both before they could get clear, leaving matching scars that neither of them would ever lose.

By the time they found a place to rest, the sounds from the palace had become distant. The little girl sat quietly, still trying to understand everything that had happened, unaware that something else was changing inside her.

Her wolf had already made its decision.

The attack on the palace had not only destroyed her home, but it had also placed a target on the last surviving member of the royal bloodline. If Maeve remembered who she was, the people responsible would never stop searching for her.

To protect her, her wolf willingly sealed herself away.

With her went every memory they had shared.

The faces of her parents faded first. Then the palace, the gardens, and the happy moments of her childhood slowly disappeared until nothing remained. By the time her wolf fell into a deep sleep, even the name Princess Maeve Ardenne no longer meant anything to the little girl.

When morning came, Veradelle believed its royal bloodline had been wiped out.

No one knew that the last princess had survived.

Not even the princess herself.