CHAPTER 3
1279 Words
She stirred awake slowly, her eyes adjusting to soft golden light that spilled through high, curtain-draped windows. The ceiling stretched above her like something out of a castle, with carved wooden beams and glowing lanterns mounted on stone walls.
This wasn’t her room.
This wasn’t anywhere she recognized.
She sat up, cautiously, blinking through the haze. The bed beneath her was enormous—far too big for one person. She felt like an ant swallowed by its vast, silken sheets. Her feet barely reached the edge when she swung her legs over the side.
Then she heard it—a voice outside the room. Calm. Masculine. Speaking quietly, possibly on a phone.
Something about the tone made her freeze.
The door opened.
She looked up—and her breath caught.
The man who entered was unlike anyone she had ever seen. Golden hair that shimmered like it held the sun itself, falling just below his shoulders. His skin had the warm hue of honey kissed by firelight—flawless, glowing. And his face... there was something ethereal about it. Not just handsome. Otherworldly.
His golden eyes met hers.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice like smooth, slow thunder.
She said nothing. Just stared. Cautious. Confused. Still caught between panic and awe.
He stepped closer, not hurriedly. “I’m still waiting for a doctor. Lie down, you’re not well.”
His tone wasn’t harsh—it was gentle, but firm, with the kind of authority that made obedience feel like instinct. Slowly, she slid back onto the bed, her limbs trembling without her permission.
He sat on the edge of a nearby armchair, not too close, giving her space.
“What is your name?” he asked.
She hesitated. Her mouth felt dry. Her heart was still playing catch-up.
“…Amara,” she finally whispered, her voice fragile.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Amara,” he echoed, as if tasting it. “Beautiful name.”
She couldn’t bring herself to ask who he was. Not yet. Her mind was still reeling.
But one thing was clear: this man wasn’t ordinary.
Luciano watched her quietly for a moment, then leaned back in the chair, resting his forearms on his knees. “I’m Luciano,” he said simply, as if that name alone carried meaning. “I was the one in the forest. The wolf.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
She studied him—those golden eyes, so unmistakable now. That calm, commanding presence. The same one she had felt before losing consciousness.
“You scared me,” she said, her voice barely above a breath.
His expression softened. “I know. I didn’t mean to. I was following your scent when I realized you were in distress. You collapsed.”
“I was overwhelmed,” she admitted. “Everything… everything changed in a day.”
Luciano gave a small nod, as if he understood far more than he let on. “What were you doing in the forest, alone?”
Amara looked away. “I just needed fresh air. To think. Being in the house… I felt like I was suffocating.”
Luciano didn’t press her. “Understandable.”
She sat up more fully now. “I should go. My parents—they’re probably worried sick.”
Luciano stood smoothly. “I’ll take you home.”
He held out a hand—not insisting, just offering. She hesitated for a second, then placed her fingers in his. His touch was warm, steadying. Together they walked across the vast room and into a high corridor lit by golden sconces.
As they descended the wide staircase, voices echoed up from below.
A familiar voice—panicked, breaking—her mother.
“Amara, my daughter. I don’t know where she is. Please… please ask the Prince to help us.”
Amara froze mid-step.
Prince?
Her eyes widened as her gaze darted around—the towering ceilings, the velvet drapes, the embroidered banners on the walls. It all made sense now.
Wait… am I at the castle?
She looked up at Luciano.
“You’re… the Prince?” she asked slowly, piecing it together.
Luciano glanced at her, the smallest smile curving his lips. “Among other things.”
Her mouth parted in disbelief, but no words came.
Luciano gently guided her down the last few steps. “Come. Let’s ease your mother’s heart before she tears the kingdom apart.”
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Amara saw her mother—pacing, frantic, her fingers wringing the edge of her sweater. Her father stood nearby, quieter but just as tense, speaking with a guard. Rita was there too, eyes red, staring blankly at the ornate wall.
Her mother turned—and froze.
“Amara?” The name came out broken, disbelieving.
Before she could speak, her mother rushed to her, arms pulling her into a crushing hug. “Oh my baby, my baby. Where have you been? Are you hurt? Are you okay?”
Amara clung to her, overwhelmed by the storm of emotion. “I’m okay. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you. I was at the forest and I passed out. He found me.”
She glanced behind her, but Luciano had already stepped back, giving them space. He spoke briefly to one of the guards, his voice low and composed.
Her father wrapped his arms around both of them. “You have no idea how worried we were.”
“I’m really okay,” Amara said softly, but she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. She was here—in a castle, with a prince-wolf-shapeshifter-savior—and she had no clue what was going on inside her.
Then Rita pushed past their parents and stood before her, arms crossed but eyes wet. “Next time you feel like collapsing in a mystical forest, maybe text me first.”
Amara gave her a watery smile. “Noted.”
Later that evening, after they had returned home, Amara sat on her bed, Rita sprawled across the floor with a bowl of snacks she wasn’t eating. The room was quiet, except for the low hum of the wind outside the window.
“I have to tell you something,” Amara said, staring at the ceiling.
Rita looked up, raising a brow. “What now? You’re secretly a dragon?”
Amara rolled her eyes. “No. I… Luciano. The guy from the castle.”
“The prince?.” Rita’s voice spiked. “The one who lives in a literal fortress and has wolves for guards?”
“That one.”
Rita sat up straighter. “What about him?”
Amara hesitated, then looked at her sister. “He was the wolf in the forest. The one who made me faint, but well he was… gentle. Calm. He saved me.”
“Girl.” Rita’s jaw dropped slightly. “That sounds like the beginning of a supernatural romance novel.”
Amara snorted, then quickly sobered. “I don’t know what it means yet. But… there’s something about him. And I think he knows more about me than he’s saying.”
Rita nodded slowly. “Well, whether he’s a prince, a wolf, or a secret immortal guardian, he better not break your heart. I’ll set the whole forest on fire.”
Amara smiled softly rolling her eyes, “Who talked about hearts now?”
Rita laughed.
She then leaned back on her elbows. “So… are we pretending to be normal tomorrow, or diving headfirst into destiny?”
Amara looked out the window toward the shadowy woods.
“…Maybe both.”
- Writer
