Chapter 23 #2
I stare down at him—this complicated, infuriating, wonderful man who somehow became the center of my universe. The betrayal is still there, sharp and painful. But underneath it is something stronger.
Love.
The realization makes my whole body feel lighter. I love him. Not the prince, not the crown, but him. The man who held me when I cried, who fought for me when I couldn’t fight for myself, who looks at me like I’m the most important thing in his world.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words falling from my lips before I can stop them.
His entire body goes still beneath me. For a moment, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake—I’ve revealed too much, too soon.
Slowly, his eyes close, and when they open again, they’re blazing with a passion that steals my breath.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.” The words are easier this time, stronger. “Prince Lucian, Crown Prince, future King—I don’t care what titles you carry. I love you.”
He surges up, capturing my mouth in a kiss that’s devastating in its intensity. When we come up for air, we’re both shaking.
“I love you, too,” he breathes against my lips. “More than my crown, more than my kingdom. More than my own life.”
And finally, finally, the last of my anger melts away. Because whatever else he is, whatever lies he told me, I know this is true. This love burning between us is real and fierce and unbreakable.
Everything else—the politics, the danger, the uncertain future—we’ll face together.
As long as we have this, we can survive anything.
Adjusting to life in the palace is like learning to breathe underwater. Everything is foreign—the silk sheets, the ornate furniture, the servants who bow when they see me. And if Lucian was protective of me outside the palace walls, he’s absolutely suffocating me within them.
He barely lets me out of his sight. When I try to explore, he’s there. When I ask for space, he hovers nearby like a shadow. It’s sweet in a possessive, overbearing way, but after two days of it, I’m ready to scream.
“I need to see my friends,” I tell him as we sit in his chambers—our chambers, he keeps correcting me—having breakfast.
His fork pauses halfway to his mouth. “Your friends?”
“Daciana and Selene. I need to know they’re okay.”
Something flickers across his face. Guilt, maybe. “I’ll arrange for them to visit.”
“Today.”
“Today,” he agrees.
When the guards bring them to my room this afternoon, I barely recognize them at first. They look tired, and older somehow, as if the past few weeks have aged them. But the moment our eyes meet, we’re rushing toward each other.
“Astra!” Daciana reaches me first, her arms wrapping around me so tightly I can barely breathe. Selene crashes into us a split second later, and we’re all crying and laughing and talking at once.
“We thought you were dead,” Selene sobs against my shoulder. “We were so worried—”
“I’m okay,” I tell them, even though I’m crying, too. “I’m here.”
We’re still holding each other when I become aware of Lucian standing in the doorway, watching us with an expression I can’t read.
“Out,” I tell him firmly.
His eyebrows rise. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, out! I want to talk to my friends alone.”
“This is my room.”
“It’s our room,” I correct him, using his own words against him. “And I’m asking you to leave.”
He looks genuinely offended. “You can’t kick me out of my own chambers. I’m the crown prince.”
“Go be the crown prince somewhere else for a while. You can come back later.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue. Then he sighs and heads into the hallway, muttering under his breath about ungrateful mates and disrespectful women.
The door closes behind him, but I can hear him pacing out there, occasionally calling out complaints about how he’s royalty and shouldn’t have to stand in corridors like a common guard.
“Can you do that?” Selene asks quietly. “Order him around like that?”
I shrug, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. “He lets me.” We plop down on the massive bed, and I’m struck by how small and lost they look in this opulent room. “Tell me everything. How are you? What happened after I left?”
Their faces grow serious. “It wasn’t good,” Selene admits. “After you disappeared, the Crown Prince came looking for you.”
“Harper threw herself at him,” Daciana adds with disgust. “Made a complete fool of herself, batting her eyelashes and offering to...help him out.”
My stomach clenches with an emotion I don’t want to name. “And?”
“He didn’t even look at her twice,” Selene says. “Barely acknowledged she existed. Harper was thoroughly humiliated.”
“She threw tantrums for days after he left,” Daciana continues. “Everybody saw the real her. Vindictive. Nasty.”
“Then what?”
“Lucian figured out you hadn’t gone into the Wyvern Woods, and he told Alpha Gareth you were probably still alive. That’s when Gareth realized we’d helped you escape.” Selene’s voice grows quiet. “We were ostracized. Completely. No one would speak to us, trade with us, nothing.”
Guilt crashes over me like a wave. “I’m so sorry. I never meant—”
“Stop.” Daciana takes my hands. “We chose to help you. And we’d do it again.”
“Besides,” Selene adds with a small smile, “look where you ended up. Mated to the Crown Prince. We’re so happy for you.”
“Will you stay?” The words tumble out in a rush of excitement. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I don’t know anyone here, and I—”
“Actually,” Daciana interrupts me, “we’re already staying.”
I blink. “What?”
“The Prince arranged it all,” Selene says, and there’s wonder in her voice when she says it. “He’s going to have me train under the royal healers, and Daciana with the palace guards.”
“He did that?”
Daciana’s voice softens. “He said that you needed your friends. That you’d been through enough without losing us, too.”
My throat closes with emotion. Of course he did. Even when I thought he was just being possessive and overprotective, he was thinking about what I needed.
“He loves you,” Selene says quietly. “Anyone can see it. The way he looks at you...like you’re his whole world.”
I touch the mating mark on my neck, hidden beneath my hair. “I love him, too.”
I should have been angry that he gave me the mating mark without asking. But when he explained why, how could I be? It saved my life, and it means I will never lose him.
“Good,” Daciana says fiercely. “You deserve to love and to be loved.”
A knock at the door interrupts us, and a guard’s voice calls out, “Healer Selene? The royal healers are ready for your orientation.”
“I guess I have to go,” Selene sighs, and we all stand up. She hugs me tightly one more time. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Astra. And happy.”
After she leaves, Daciana settles back on the bed with me, her expression growing solemn.
“Listen to me,” she says, taking my hands. “Seize this happiness. Don’t let anybody get in the way of it.”
“Daciana—”
“I’m serious.” Her grip tightens. “The pack never appreciated you. With you gone, nobody ventures into the Wyvern Woods anymore. Our herb supplies are dwindling. They’re all scrambling now, realizing what they’ve lost.” A bitter smile crosses her face.
“They’re ungrateful, all of them. You risked your life for the herbs they needed, and they treated you like garbage. ”
“I never understood why they hated me so much,” I say quietly. “I tried so hard to be useful, to prove my worth—”
An uncomfortable expression flickers across Daciana’s face so quickly, I almost miss it. She looks away, her jaw tensing up.
“Daciana? What is it?”
“Nothing.” She stands abruptly, smoothing down her dress. “Just...leave it in the past, Astra. All of it. Focus on your future. Be happy.”
She moves toward the door, but something in her voice, in the way she won’t meet my eyes, makes my stomach clench with unease.
“Daciana, wait—”
“I should go find my new quarters,” she says quickly. “The guard captain is expecting me for training tomorrow.”
She hugs me goodbye, but it feels forced, rushed. As the door closes behind her, I’m left staring at the empty room, her words echoing in my mind.
Why did she look so troubled? What was she hiding?
And why do I get the feeling that there was more to my treatment in the pack than I ever knew?
“Come with me,” Lucian says after lunch a few days later, taking my hand. “There’s something I want to show you.”
He leads me through corridors I haven’t explored yet, past tapestries and marble statues that probably cost more than entire villages. We go through a set of glass doors, and suddenly we’re outside in the palace gardens.
But he doesn’t stop at the manicured lawns and decorative flower beds. Instead, he guides me around the side of a building to a walled area I haven’t noticed before.
“What is this place?” I ask as he opens a heavy, wooden gate.
“See for yourself.”
I step through the entrance and freeze.
Before me stretches the most beautiful garden I have ever seen.
Rows upon rows of herbs and medicinal plants, each one more prized than the last. I see moonbell and silverleaf, dragonfern and nightshade, others so uncommon I’ve only read about them in ancient texts.
Everything is perfectly organized, with stone pathways winding between raised beds and a small greenhouse glinting in the afternoon sun.
“How did you…” I can barely speak past the tightness in my throat.
“I had my people search every corner of the kingdom,” Lucian tells me. “Every herb you’ve ever mentioned, every plant you’ve used in your remedies. Common and rare alike.”
Tears blur my vision as I walk deeper into the garden, recognizing dozens of species I thought I’d never see again. Some of these plants are worth more than what a lot of people make in a year, and he has given me an entire garden of them.
“Lucian”—I turn to face him, not caring that the tears are now streaming down my cheeks—“this is too much. I can’t—”
“It’s yours,” he says firmly. “All of it. Your own space to grow whatever you need, to create your remedies without depending on anyone else.”
I throw my arms around his neck, kissing him with all the gratitude and love I can’t put into words. “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips. “Thank you.”
“There is one condition,” he says, and something in his tone makes me pull back to look him in the eyes.
“What kind of condition?”
“You cannot test any poisons on yourself. Ever.”
I hesitate. Testing new antidotes on myself has always been the most efficient way to perfect them, but the expression on his face tells me this is non-negotiable.
“Astra,” he warns when I don’t respond immediately, “I’ll have this entire garden torn up and salted if you even think about it.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
The steel in his voice tells me he absolutely will. I sigh in disappointment. “Fine. No testing poisons on myself.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
Relief floods his features, and I kiss him again, feeling both excited and grateful. This garden is not simply a gift. It’s proof that he sees me, understands what matters to me. It is freedom and purpose and home, all wrapped into one perfect space.
“Your Highness?”
We release each other and see a man approaching on one of the garden paths. He’s tall and lean with blond hair and sharp, brown eyes, moving with the controlled grace of a warrior.
“Leon,” Lucian says, his arm tightening around my waist. “Astra, this is Leon Ashford, one of my two right-hand men.”
Leon stops a respectful distance away and bows. “Your Highness. It’s an honor to finally meet you properly.”
“Just Astra, please,” I say, suddenly feeling awkward about titles and protocol.
“No,” Lucian says at once, his tone resolute. “Call her ‘Your Highness.’”
Leon rolls his eyes. “Of course.”
Lucian’s posture shifts slightly, becoming more formal. “What news?”
“Perhaps we should speak privately?” Leon’s eyes flick to me briefly.
Lucian nods, and they move away from me, speaking in low voices over by the greenhouse.
All of a sudden, a strange thing happens. Their voices become clearer, more distinct, as if someone has adjusted the volume on a conversation I was already straining to hear. Every word reaches me with perfect clarity, even though they’re talking quietly to each other.
“Lord Aldric has been looking into the history of Eclipse Born,” Leon says, his voice low and urgent.
Eclipse Born?
My blood runs cold, and somewhere deep in my mind, a memory stirs—fragmented and elusive, like I’m trying to grasp smoke. I’ve heard this term before. But where?
“What is Eclipse Born?” Lucian asks, his voice carefully controlled.
“I don’t know,” Leon admits. “But the Umbra Council does. Aldric has been requesting access to their archives, and High Inquisitor Draven returned to the capital yesterday with unusual urgency.”
“What does Draven want?”
“He has been putting significant pressure on the King to transfer your mate into the Council’s custody.”
The garden around me suddenly feels too bright, too exposed. My perfect moment of happiness crumbles as the reality of my situation comes crashing back down on me.
They want me. The Umbra Council wants me, and I don’t even know why.
Eclipse Born. The term echoes in my mind, bringing with it a sense of dread I can’t explain.