14
652 Words
Dorian
Weeks later, the situation had only deteriorated. The lack of control was affecting my focus, leaving a persistent fog over my daily duties that I couldn't seem to shake. In search of some kind of anchor, I drove out to the private esta
The library doors closed behind me with a heavy click. Martina didn’t look up from the top of the rolling ladder, her fingers tracing the spines of the leather-bound records.
"Greetings, mother."
She froze, a heavy book balanced in her hands. When she turned, her green eyes narrowed, scanning my face before she carefully set the book on the shelf. She climbed down, each step deliberate.
"The Moon Goddess finally answered my wishes," she said, her voice dry as she brushed dust from her gown . "My son came to visit me today."
I couldn't stay in one spot. My boots dug into the Persian rug as I paced the corners of the room, pulling a random volume from the shelf, flipping through the pages without seeing the ink, and shoving it back into the wrong slot.
Martina stopped three paces away. Her brow furrowed, her eyes tracking the rigid line of my shoulders.
"What is the problem, son?" She stepped into my path, forcing me to halt. "Why are you restless and looking through the archives like this? You look sick."
She reached up, pressing her palm flat against my forehead. The coolness of her skin contrasted sharply with the heat burning beneath mine.
I flinched back, breaking the contact and staring at the floorboards.
"Come on." She crossed her arms, her gaze cutting through my evasion. "You came here for a reason, Dorian."
I dropped onto the leather couch, the cushions groaning under my weight. I dragged a hand down my face, gripping my jaw until the bone ached. "You know all those wolf mate tales?"
Martina’s arms dropped to her sides. She leaned forward. "Yeah. What about them?"
"Do you think they are real?" I stared at the empty fireplace, my voice flat, stripped of inflection. "How the body reacts when it happens. The loss of control."
She sank into the opposite cushion, her expression softening. "Yes, it is very real. Did you find someone who made you react like that?"
The heat crept up my neck, tightening my throat. I locked my jaw, refusing to look at her. "It was just a midnight encounter. But afterward... everything feels wrong."
"Like you lost a loved one, right?"
I gave a single, tight nod. "Yes. And I don't know how to meet her again. I have no name. Just her features."
Martina stood up, the softness vanishing from her face, replaced by the sharp authority she usually reserved for the council. "You are the Lycan King of the twelve districts, son. If you want to find a wolf in this territory, you can."
"I don't know her name, mother."
"Then don't stop until you get your name," she said, nodding toward the heavy wooden door. "Before it's too late. Hurry now."
The walk back to the study was a blur of stone corridors and locked doors. The moment I reached the desk, I hit the intercom line for Garret.
Within minutes, the door opened. Garret stepped inside, his posture rigid, shoulders squared as he halted before the mahogany desk.
"Sir?"
"I need you to go to Ashenmere," I said, my voice dropping into the rhythmic, measured tone of a military command. "Do some deep digging on the guest servants and the temporary workers who were present at the Calloway wedding."
Garret nodded, taking out a small notepad.
"Find the female with straight black hair," I continued, staring at the map of the districts pinned to the wall. "The one who left the eastern wing before dawn."
"I'll leave immediately,sire" Garret said. He gave a brief nod and exited the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
- Writer
