Claiming my rogue princess

Chapter 10

The silent grief

As the fire in Alpha Draco’s chamber burned to coals, the smoke curled faintly, carrying the smell of ash. He sat alone in the heavy chair, with his shoulders bent with sorrowful eyes. Everywhere was silent. Outside, the pack slept in uncertain peace, but within the walls, their Alpha wept.

The wine cup in front of him has not been touched. He pressed his hands against his face as if to hold back the grief clawing at his chest. For years he had hidden it and drowned it under his duty, but tonight the feelings broke through.

He reluctantly whispered her name in silence…“Margaret,” but only the stone walls could hear it.

His Luna, his heart, his wife whose laughter once filled this very household. She had been the light where he was a shadow. Her hands had steadied his rage, her wisdom had guided his rule. And whenever she walked into a room, even wolves bowed their heads, although they never understood why. She had been more than just a Luna. She had been something greater.

But she was gone, murdered in cold blood.

The memory of the night it happened made him weep bitterly, even after all these years. He still couldn't embrace the silence, nor the absence. He had searched, hunted, torn down forests and villages, and still there was no trace of her killer. All he was able to gather were just mere rumors and whispers.

Draco gripped his fist, while his own tears burned down his cheek. He had worn the mask of Alpha so long that the pack never saw this side of him. But in the darkness of his chamber, he allowed himself to break.

“If you were here,” he spoke into the silence, “you would have known what to do. You always knew.”

His voice cracked. He pressed his forehead against the wood of the table. The grief twisted, mingled with helplessness.

“You were stronger than me,” he whispered. “Stronger than any of us. Even stronger than Hugo. You would have found a better way out.”

The fire cracked weakly. His breath shook. His heart called for her like it had every night since she left this world. Although the pain was old, it had never decreased.

Now, facing the storm that Hugo brought to his doorstep, Draco felt the weight of her absence more than ever. His daughter stood on the edge of sacrifice, his pack staggered on the edge of ruin. And he… he was just a man drowning without the woman who had always lifted him to the surface.

In the chambers above, Aria lay awake on her narrow bed, sleep had refused to claim her. Her body burned with restless energy, her wolf prowled inside her. Tomorrow, Hugo Blackwell will come and her life will be tied to a man she loathed, to a bond she did not choose.

Her father’s words rang in her ears… “You will do as you are commanded.”

She rolled onto her side, pressing her hand against her racing heart. The walls felt suffocating. The air felt poisoned. She could not stay.

Her wolf whispered to her… run. And for once, she did not fight it.

Quietly, she rose from the bed. The stone floor was cold under her bare feet as she moved toward the window. She had done this before, when she was younger, and wanted to escape the weight of being Draco’s daughter. But tonight was different, she was not running for peace…she was running for survival.

Aria slipped through the window and dropped lightly into the darkness of the courtyard. The guards at the gate were at their post, their eyes were heavy with tiredness, and their heads were turning slowly from side to side. She pressed herself against the wall, waited for the torchlight to shift, then tiptoed across the ground.

The night air was so cool, and her lungs inhaled it in, like a long-awaited freedom.

One of the guards moved and glanced in her direction, she froze immediately to avoid suspicion. His torchlight swept close, but her wolf held her in a stable position. When he finally turned away, she dashed into the woods beyond the gate, as the darkness swallowed her whole.

She tried not to stop, even when she stumbled on a rock, she kept going. Her breathing became intense, but her legs carried her fast enough through the fields. The more she recalled her father's command about becoming Hugo's mate, the deeper she went until her fear twisted into something else…Anger, rage, and fire.

The path she took was a new path no one would know. She had walked it in secret for years, slipping away from the palace when the weight of her name grew too heavy. The track was scattered through rocks and trees, until it reached the caves hidden in the mountain.

The climbing was difficult, sharp stones bit into her palms, and her knees scraped against sawtoothed stones, but Aria refused to give up. Her wolf pushed her forward, urging her to climb higher, and deeper into the cave.

At last, she reached the narrow opening between two boulders. She slid inside, ducking under the stone arch. The cool air of the cave wrapped around her, it was damp and friendly.

This had been her hiding place for years…even Kaden doesn't know about this safe place.

She moved through the winding tunnel, deeper into the mountain. The darkness grew thicker, but she did not need light. Her wolf can see through what her eyes could not.

Finally, the tunnel opened into a small chamber. Against one wall stood the small cabin her mother had built with her own hands, piece by piece before she passed. Rough wood, stone foundation, a roof patched with bark and hide. It was not much, but it was her safe place.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The scent of pine needles and dried herbs filled the space. A simple bed of furs lay in one corner, shelves of jars lined the wall and a small fire pit sat in the center.

The room reminded her of Margaret, she had brought her here when she was four years old declaring it to be their safe place whenever there was war.

Her body sagged against the wall. For the first time that night, she let herself breathe even when her heart still raced, and her thoughts still burned, she believed the stone walls of this cave would shield her.

She sank onto the bed of furs, pulling her knees to her chest. Her wolf settled slowly, growled, and eased into a low hum.

But deep down, she knew that soon, Hugo would come looking for her. And her father would send guards to search for her. Yet as the mountain held her, as the silence wrapped around her, Aria made herself a promise.

She would never bow to Hugo Blackwell. Not in a mating bond or as a slave.

Far below the mountain, in his chamber of ash and silence, Alpha Draco raised his head. His tears had dried, but his grief clung to him like armor. He stared at the door, at the darkness beyond it, and whispered again into the emptiness.

“If you were here,” he murmured, “you would know what to do.”

The fire sputtered weakly, and for a moment, the shadows seemed to shift. But Draco was too tired to notice.

And above him, in the heart of the mountain, his daughter had vanished into the dark, with her path set for freedom, and her fire burning brighter than a furnace.