The search had gone on for days, each hour stretching like a lifetime. Carl's pack scoured every inch of the land. Then, just as hope seemed to be slipping, a bright pulse of magic lit the sky like a flare.
Carl's heart thundered in his chest. Aster.
He bolted toward the source, his elite team at his heels. They found a doula kneeling in the snow-dusted clearing, her arms cradling a newborn wrapped in bloodstained linens.
Carl didn't wait. "Where is she?" he demanded, voice rough with desperation.
The woman's eyes filled with tears. "She used her last breath… to protect him. She cast a barrier spell so we could escape."
Carl's world cracked.
He stumbled back to the place where her magic had sparked the sky, where her heart had stilled. The forest whispered around him, silent witnesses to a love lost too soon. Blood marked the earth, soaked deep into the soil—but her body was gone.
He let out a howl so raw, so thunderous, the mountains wept with him. A howl not just of mourning—but of war.
The Lycan king had lost his queen.
—
Months passed like smoke.
Carl became a shadow of the man he was, drowning in silence, until the cries of his son reminded him: Aster hadn't died for sorrow. She died to protect life. Their life.
He rose from grief like a storm—stronger, colder, more dangerous. His only focus now: the child she left behind… and the truth she took with her.
Until—
A knock on his car window pulled him from his memories.
Sean, his most trusted aide, slipped into the seat beside him and handed over a folder.
Carl opened it. His sharp gaze landed on a photo.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"Franco Vantes," Sean replied. "He may know what really happened in the woods three years ago."
Carl's jaw clenched. "Where is he?"
"There's a catch, my lord... He's a vampire."
Carl stilled. "Impossible. Vampires are forbidden in Santossa."
"He doesn't live in Santossa. His home sits right on the border of Carreon City. He lives off animal blood and married a human. He's been off the grid for decades. But the night Aster died… he was there."
Carl's eyes narrowed with purpose. "Then let's pay him a visit."
—
The house stood quietly on the edge of a misty pine forest, a rustic estate with rose vines curling up the stone walls.
When Carl and Sean arrived, a nervous woman answered the gate. Her hands trembled when she recognized him—the Lycan King himself.
"M-My husband is in the garden," she whispered, stepping aside.
They followed the scent of earth and herbs to the backyard, where a man in his fifties sat beneath a sprawling tree, reading a newspaper. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and his sharp green eyes met Carl's with calm curiosity.
"Well, well," Franco said with a warm, almost amused smile. "To what do I owe this royal visit?"
Carl didn't waste time. "I need answers. Three years ago, a woman died in the woods near Landon's mansion. You saw something."
Franco's gaze darkened. "I thought I'd never be asked about that night."
Carl nodded once. "She was my wife."
Franco blinked, visibly surprised. "A Lycan king married to a human? Or was she…"
Carl tensed.
Franco leaned forward. "That woman wasn't just human. Her blood—her scent—it was… complex. That's why I followed it. It wasn't my usual hunting ground, but I knew something was off."
Sean scribbled notes silently as Franco recounted the night.
"I arrived just in time to see a pack of werewolves surrounding her body," he said. "They thought she was dead. They were laughing. Said their alpha would be pleased she was gone."
Carl's hands curled into fists.
"But before they could even touch her," Franco continued, "a gust of wind—no, a force—sliced through them like a blade. The wolves dropped like flies. Then he appeared."
"Who?" Carl asked, voice low.
"A royal guard," Franco said, his voice barely a whisper. "One from the Vellaria clan. I saw his insignia. No mistaking it. He picked her up and vanished."
Carl's blood ran cold.
The Vellaria royal family… awakening?
But why would one of their guards rescue a woman like Aster?
"My wife was human," Carl muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "She had no ties to vampires."
"Are you sure?" Franco asked, watching him closely. "Because I smelled vampire blood in her. Faint—but pure."
Carl's mind raced.
Was that why the Council had always been uneasy around Caveen? Was that why his aura had felt strange?
Just then, his phone buzzed.
It was Cane.
"Carl! You need to come back now! Caveen—his fangs just came in! What the hell do I do?"
Carl froze. Franco, overhearing, stepped in calmly.
"Give him a glass of water with a single drop of blood," he advised. "It'll suppress the transformation."
Carl relayed the instruction. Moments later, Cane's voice returned, relieved. "It worked. He's calm now. What… what is our boy turning into?"
Carl ended the call, heart pounding.
"Thank you," he said to Franco.
Franco gave him a soft smile. "That boy is special. A hybrid like him hasn't been seen in generations. He could end this centuries-old feud… or ignite a new one."
Carl stood, but Franco stopped him with one last word.
"Carl," he said, tone grave. "Look deeper into your wife's roots. A royal guard of Vellaria doesn't serve anyone—not unless they're of royal blood."
Carl's breath caught.
Could Aster have been more than he ever knew?
As he and Sean left the quiet house at the edge of the border, Carl glanced back once.
The pieces were falling into place… but the truth was far more dangerous than he ever imagined.