Kaevryn POV
It has been weeks since we returned from the Ice Clan. Weeks of ancestral preparations, endless ceremonies, and watchful eyes following our every move.
Everyone seems to love Elyasan.
Then again, my family has always loved too easily.
That was what got my mother killed.
The memory claws at me every single day. How could it not? I was there. I watched it happen right before my eyes.
The Ice sword slicing through her.
The blood.
Her scream.
The way my wolf howled inside me before everything went silent forever.
"Your Highness."
George, my Royal Guard and closest friend since childhood, falls into step beside me as we walk through the long palace hallway.
"Anything unusual?" I ask.
He hands me a scroll, and I unseal it immediately.
"It is the same, Your Highness. She spends most of her time with the wolves."
My jaw tightens.
Without bothering to roll the scroll properly, I crush it in my hand before tossing it back to him.
She has been like this since the day I saw her at the fortress gates.
Quiet.
Withdrawn.
Distant.
I barely ever see her smile unless she is with the wolves.
Something is wrong.
Or perhaps the reality of our marriage has finally settled into her bones.
She should have known from the beginning. When we first met, she looked like someone with nothing left to lose. Determined. Unafraid.
So what changed?
"You should perhaps speak with her," George says carefully.
"There is no need."
My voice comes out colder than intended.
"I have too many matters demanding my attention to waste time chasing after a lost princess."
"She is your wife—" He quickly corrects himself. "Soon-to-be wife."
"Yes," I snap, "but she is not my mate."
The words echo harshly against the stone walls.
"Must I remind you that she is merely a link I need? Her existence matters only because there are secrets buried within that clan. Secrets that cannot—should not—remain hidden."
Anger burns beneath my skin.
I can feel my wolf straining violently inside me, the broken creature still trapped within the darkness it was forced into years ago.
"Apologies, Your Highness," George mutters.
"You should never forget, George."
I stop walking abruptly, and so does he.
Slowly, I turn to face him.
"They killed my mother."
The words feel like poison in my mouth.
"And they paralyzed my wolf…"
My chest tightens.
"Forever."
Silence follows.
Heavy. Suffocating.
George lowers his gaze, knowing there is nothing he can say.
With that, I turn away and continue down the corridor.
The massive throne room doors open as I approach.
Warm air washes over me instantly, carrying the scent of burning cedarwood from the giant braziers lining the hall. The throne room is unusually quiet today. No ministers. No nobles fighting for favor.
Only the King.
My father sits upon the black obsidian throne, his expression unreadable as his gaze settles on me.
"Kaevryn."
I bow my head slightly. "Father."
"Come closer."
My footsteps echo across the marble floors as I approach the throne.
For a brief moment, silence stretches between us.
It has always been this way after mother died.
Cold.
Careful.
Controlled.
"The preparations?" he finally asks.
"They continue smoothly."
"And the girl?"
My jaw tightens slightly.
"She has adapted to palace life better than expected."
Father studies me closely. "Yet?"
I know that tone.
He already suspects something.
"She avoids most people," I admit. "The wolves seem to be the only creatures she tolerates willingly."
"Hm."
He leans back slightly against the throne.
"The servants speak of strange occurrences around her."
I remain silent.
Father's eyes narrow.
"Candles burning brighter when she enters a room. Heat spreading through frozen corridors. The palace gardens blooming days earlier than expected despite the weather."
My gaze sharpens slightly.
So the rumors have spread this far already.
"The servants exaggerate," I say flatly.
"No," Father says calmly. "Fear exaggerates. This…" His fingers tap once against the throne. "This sounds like power."
Silence settles heavily between us.
Then Father slowly rises from the throne.
"The Ice Clan hid her for years," he murmurs. "Not because she was weak… but because they feared what she would become."
I cross my arms behind my back.
"The priests treated her like a curse."
"And perhaps that was their mistake."
His gaze darkens thoughtfully.
"The Sun Goddess."
The title alone makes the air feel heavier.
Very few dare to speak of the ancient legends openly anymore.
A child blessed by the sun itself.
A power said to rival kingdoms.
A force capable of bringing life…
Or destruction.
Father descends the throne steps slowly, his boots echoing against stone.
"If the stories are true," he says quietly, "then Elyasan may possess abilities our enemies cannot defend against."
I watch him carefully.
"You speak as though she is already a weapon."
Father looks at me sharply.
"She is."
The answer comes without hesitation.
"And if she learns to wield that power fully, every kingdom across the continent will either kneel before her…" He pauses. "Or try to kill her."
A strange tension settles in my chest at the thought.
Because despite everything…
Despite what her clan did to my family…
The idea of Elyasan hunted does not sit well with me.
Father notices the shift in my expression instantly.
"You are growing soft."
"I am being cautious."
"You are becoming attached."
My eyes harden immediately.
"She is merely necessary."
Father studies me for a long moment before giving a quiet hum.
"Good."
He turns away briefly, staring toward the giant windows behind the throne where evening sunlight pours into the hall.
"The wedding must proceed quickly," he says. "Before the Ice Clan changes its mind. Before outsiders learn what she truly is."
"And when they do?"
Father's face darkens.
"Then we make certain Elyasan stands with us before the world attempts to take her away."