Chapter 2
Astra and Lycaon remained in the small house by the river, blissfully unaware that palace guards were already hunting for them.
For a few precious hours, the world felt quiet—just the soft rush of water and their laughter echoing through the trees.
As they sat together by the riverbank, Astra looked up at Lycaon, her voice gentle.
"How do you see our future?" she asked.
Lycaon brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled.
"Bright," he said softly. "I promise to protect you… and love you, for as long as I live."
Astra's cheeks warmed. She slipped a delicate bangle around his wrist and tightened it.
Lycaon glanced at it, puzzled. "What's this?"
"My grandmother gave it to me," she explained. "It's said to guide and protect the one who wears it."
Lycaon let out a low laugh. "Astra, I don't need protection. I already have the strength to defend us both."
But she shook her head and cupped his hand with her own.
"Even so, Lycaon… you must still take care of yourself. Don't rely only on your power."
Her concern softened him. He kissed her forehead tenderly.
"Nothing will happen to me. I'll cherish this gift—and I'll always cherish you."
Astra wrapped her arms around him, sinking into his warmth.
"Thank you… for being here. For loving me," she whispered.
Butterflies fluttered around them in the fading light, and Astra rose to play among them. Lycaon watched her, a quiet smile tugging at his lips.
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Meanwhile…
Prince Herod, tense and seething with fury, led the full royal army into the search for Princess Astra.
His rage was palpable. He would kill—without hesitation—the man who dared take her away.
He ordered the guards to scour every village, every road, every hidden path.
The hunt had begun.
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Night fell. The sky blackened, and the moon turned a deep, ominous red. The guards were close now—too close.
Lycaon's keen senses twitched. He heard them long before they arrived.
His expression hardened. "Astra. Someone's coming. Many of them. We need to leave—now."
Fear flickered in Astra's eyes, but Lycaon squeezed her hand.
"Don't be afraid. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."
They fled into the jungle.
Torches burned in the darkness behind them as soldiers crashed through the underbrush. Lycaon moved with supernatural speed, pulling Astra with him. Branches whipped past them; the ground blurred beneath their feet.
Astra stumbled, but Lycaon caught her instantly, holding her against him as he ran.
The guards were gaining.
Seeing her struggle, Lycaon swept Astra into his arms and sprinted faster—so fast the wind tore past them like a storm.
Then the forest exploded with chaos.
Lycaon's eyes gleamed yellow. His bones shifted, cracking, reshaping. His muscles rippled.
In a heartbeat, he transformed into his werewolf form—tall, powerful, terrifying.
With a guttural growl, he lunged at the guards, shielding Astra behind him.
The guards screamed in panic, thrusting torches and pitchforks toward him. Knights slashed at him with swords, but Lycaon seized the blades with his jaws and snapped them apart. He hurled men aside, sending them crashing into trees.
But then—
More figures emerged from the shadows.
Werewolves.
His pack.
The very pack he once called family.
At the front was his brother, the Alpha.
The Alpha snarled, baring his fangs in betrayal.
Lycaon's growl rumbled through the ground.
"You will pay for this treachery."
He fought with ferocity, but he was outnumbered. Still, he kept Astra behind him, shielding her with his body as both guards and werewolves closed in.
Then—a flash of silver.
An arrow sliced through the darkness, aimed directly at Lycaon.
Astra saw it first.
"Lycaon!" she screamed, throwing herself in front of him.
The arrow struck her chest.
Lycaon let out a strangled roar and instantly reverted to his human form, catching her before she fell.
"No… no, no, no…" His voice broke as he lowered her gently to the ground.
Astra's eyes met his, weakened but still full of love.
"Lycaon… are you… okay?" she whispered.
His tears fell onto her cheeks.
"No. I'm not okay. Not if you're leaving me."
Her trembling hand reached for his face. Blood soaked her clothes, hot and heavy. Lycaon pulled the arrow from her chest, and she cried out softly from the pain.
He pressed his hand over the wound, desperate.
"Astra… gods, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
His voice shook with a grief so deep it tore at his soul.
She smiled faintly.
"I'm okay… as long as you're safe."
Her fingers brushed his cheek one last time. Then her strength faded. Her eyes closed.
"Astra!"
Lycaon pulled her into his arms, calling her name again and again—his tears falling onto her still face. His eyes turned gold and red, glowing with anguish and rage.
He held her tightly as the world around him blurred.
Astra was gone.
And nothing could wake her.
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