Luna Helena

8

It was Milo who had left the cream on her nightstand, so she could apply it to the wound her husband had left.

Since she no longer had her wolf, Helena couldn’t heal with the regenerative abilities her kind possessed—abilities that were even faster in those of Alpha nature. So, no matter how refined the cream gifted by the Beta or how carefully she applied it, the Luna understood that the lycan had noticed, especially when he asked that uncomfortable question.

"It’s not what it looks like," Helena said, lowering her head and touching the spot on her face where Manson had left his mark the previous afternoon. "I know what it looks like, but it isn’t. I fell off a stool while arranging decorations. That’s all."

Leofrik growled under his breath.

What Helena had just told him didn’t convince him. And by the way she said it, the prince was certain that her husband—that arrogant, foolish Alpha who bragged about his rifles—was behind that bruise. But then, why hadn’t she done anything to defend herself from the abuse, if she looked like she was made of fire, forged in steel?

Was it a habit of her husband to strike her? Had she been subdued?

He had to dig deeper, claw at the truth, but first, he needed to earn his mate’s trust.

With barely contained anger, Leofrik took Helena’s chin between his fingers and gently lifted her face so their eyes could meet.

"I trust what you say is the truth, Luna. I couldn’t bear to know you’ve been hurt by anyone."

Leofrik’s words unsettled Helena—not because they hinted at the truth he might suspect, but because of the strange interest he seemed to have in her.

Why? Wasn’t this the same man who, just the day before, had told her he didn’t care about her case in the slightest, claiming it was a domestic matter she had to resolve on her own? Why now, after seeing her, did he seem so concerned with her well-being?

Helena lowered her gaze so he wouldn’t see the contradiction on her face. But she wasn’t willing to remain silent either. That wasn’t how she’d been raised, and it wasn’t in her nature to be that way.

"I don’t understand, Leofrik," she said, stepping away from the prince and looking up at a ripe apple hanging from a branch, ready to fall. "Yesterday, when we spoke..."

The lycan clenched his fists. Yes, he had been a fool—completely indifferent—but things had changed, and he needed her to know that.

"I regret what I said," Leofrik cut in, anticipating Helena’s reproach. "I had too much on my mind—this journey across the kingdom’s packs, for one. I wasn’t thinking clearly. But now that I’m here, there’s nothing I want more than to listen to your complaint."

Helena’s eyes glimmered, but she masked it by stretching her gaze beyond that apple, just out of reach.

"Really? Would you listen to what justifies my desire to divorce my husband?"

She met his eyes with her own, deep and sharp. She needed to read him, to know he wasn’t speaking out of courtesy, but from genuine interest.

Leofrik knew this was the moment to sow the trust he needed from her—so she would begin to open that chest of secrets and reveal the truth about the one who had struck her. He swore that once he knew, he’d make the bastard pay in blood.

"Of course, Helena. Tell me the reasons why a Luna so young wishes to divorce, and I promise I’ll do everything in my power to support your case."

Helena could see his words were sincere. She was used to reading people’s intentions—their hostility or honesty—especially men’s. Having been desired since the age of twelve had taught her to distinguish between words meant to charm and words that held truth.

"Very well, Leofrik. I’ll tell you what’s led me to want to divorce Alpha Mason."

Among the fruit trees surrounding them, in a space free of intruders, Helena revealed to the prince what her husband intended to do with the pack that rightfully belonged to her brother—part of the agreement that had sent her to Mason’s marital bed.

"I know the agreement isn’t legal," Helena said, after summarizing the deal her late father had made with her husband. "I know that, by law, my husband can do what he now intends. But he is breaking his word—his honor—what he swore to do when my father died: that he wouldn’t claim the merging of the packs based on my right of succession."

Leofrik had listened to every word with unwavering attention. The pain pressed into every syllable struck him to the core. His mate was suffering, and to him, that meant he was suffering too. He couldn’t allow that wretch to get away with this. But there was truth in Helena’s final words.

As crown prince, he had been thoroughly educated in the laws of the kingdom—not only in matters of administration, noble titles, and the transfer of lands, but also in private succession. The promise Helena’s father had made to her husband wasn’t enforceable in court; it lacked any legal standing. It was, as she said, an agreement of honor.

"That’s why I must divorce him, Leofrik," Helena continued before the prince could speak. "It’s the only way I can succeed my father without being Mason’s wife. Then the pack will pass to me, and I’ll renounce the Alpha title in favor of my brother."

Another legal insight from Helena. Yes, it was the only reasonable and legitimate way out. But it would not be without challenges.

"It won’t be easy," said Leofrik after a brief pause. "Divorces are only common among those who aren’t pack leaders. But between an Alpha and a Luna, there are barely any precedents—and the few that exist are ancient, and motivated by reasons very different from yours."

Helena released the breath she had been holding since she decided to trust the prince. What he was saying wasn’t encouraging—and this was only the beginning.

"I also understand this is the wealthiest and most powerful pack in the entire kingdom," Leofrik continued, "so I must assume your husband is a man with many connections and influence at all levels—including within the judicial offices."

Helena nodded with her lips pressed tightly together.

"I’ve already considered all of that," she said. "That’s why I came to you. I have no other options left."

Before Leofrik could notice the tears beginning to well up, Helena turned her gaze back to the apple above—but this time, the light caught her eyes in such a way that the prince could see the watery glimmer that lit them. He felt compassion as he never had before in his life. It was his mate who was trapped, desperate, caged—and though the road ahead would be hard, he had to be there for her. He had to use all his power, and all his influence, to help her.

Leofrik stepped closer to her, and then closer still, just enough to wrap her in an embrace—but it wasn’t time yet. No, not yet. Something was still missing, because she, for some reason, didn’t feel him as her mate, even though all the signs were there. He followed her gaze to the apple and, with a simple reach of his hand, plucked it from the branch and offered it to her.

"I will help you, Luna Helena. I’m on your side in this."

With the apple in her hands, Helena parted her lips slightly, and for a moment, Leofrik believed—hoped—that she had finally felt the mate bond, because the feeling of closeness was overwhelming. He stopped himself just in time, just before leaning in to touch those damp lips with his own, because she spoke.

"What’s the price, Prince Leofrik? I want you to be honest with me and tell me what you’ll ask in return for your help."

Of course. She didn’t understand that his help came without conditions. And why would she? She didn’t feel the same way he did. He would have to hide it a while longer—at least until he could reveal to her that he felt her as his mate, even if she didn’t feel it yet.

"You’ll act in my interest when I require it. That’s all."

Helena frowned.

"That’s all? Support you… when you need it?"

"It’s mutual benefit, yes. I’d like to have the support and counsel of a strong, intelligent woman like you, Luna Helena. That’s all—but that’s more than enough for me."

Helena weighed the prince’s words. Once again, they rang true. They lacked the usual undertone of men who only wished to take her to their bed and offered support that, once lust was satisfied, never materialized. No, there was no deceit in the prince’s tone. And although she was still intrigued, still uncertain of his true motives, Helena accepted the deal. She extended her hand, and Leofrik took it in a firm, approving clasp.

"Now that we have an agreement, let us return to the house and present our alliance to the world," said Leofrik, offering his arm to Helena.