Chapter 12 #2
The chair toppled backward with a bang. The music stopped abruptly. Everyone turned to stare at me, expressions varying—surprise, confusion, unease.
"Your Majesty?" Leah stood on stage, face pale. "What's wrong?"
I didn't answer. I strode onto the stage, pulled those crumpled papers from my pocket, unfolded them, and held them before her.
"What is this?"
Her gaze fell on the papers. Her face went white—not ordinary pallor, but bloodless death-white.
"These... these are my lyrics," her voice trembled. "Where did you get them?"
"From Mia's room." My voice was cold as winter rails. "Her handwriting. Her drafts. Her edits. Tell me—why is your 'new song' word-for-word identical to Mia's manuscript?"
Complete silence. I felt everyone's eyes focus on us like hundreds of spotlights burning my back.
Leah's lips trembled. Her eyes darted around, desperately searching for a reasonable explanation.
"I... I showed her my draft," she said, voice getting smaller. "She might have... copied it..."
"Really?" I laughed coldly. "Then why is your song's second half completely different from her manuscript? If you showed her the complete draft, how could she only copy half?"
Leah's face looked worse. Her body swayed like someone had shoved her. She grabbed the mic stand to keep from falling.
"Your Majesty, I-I can explain..."
"Explain what?" My voice was ice. "Explain how you stole a mute girl's lyrics and deceived me for six months?"
Tears began falling. But this time, those tears didn't make me feel sympathy. They made me sick.
"I-I just... I just loved you too much..." she sobbed. "I was afraid once you knew the truth, you wouldn't choose me... I was afraid you'd think I wasn't good enough..."
"So you chose deception?"
"I had no choice!" She suddenly raised her voice, tears streaming down. "She's mute! She can't even speak! What can she give you? Can she stand beside you handling state affairs? Can she conduct herself properly with foreign guests? She can't do anything!"
"So that gives you the right to deceive me?" I roared, my voice echoing through the garden. "Those lyrics that resonated with my soul, those things I thought you wrote—they were all hers. You just stole them, then stood on stage enjoying the applause that should have been hers."
Leah covered her face, shoulders shaking violently.
"I-I can compensate her... I can apologize..."
"What good is an apology?" I said, my voice terrifyingly calm—that calm more chilling than rage. "She's been banished. Because of you, because of those elders, because of that damn prophecy—and I put her on that road."
I turned and walked off stage, pushed through the crowd, and strode toward the stables.
"Your Majesty! Where are you going?" Edmund called behind me.
"To find her."
"Now? It's already dark—"
"Then get me torches!"
I mounted my horse, gripping the reins tight. My wolf roared inside me, desperate to burst out—urging me, warning me, telling me with near-desperate urgency.
Fast. Faster. Faster.
Even without its urging, my body was telling me something was wrong.
A chill spread from my chest, like someone had tied a rope around my heart and was slowly tightening it.
The feeling had started minutes ago—at first just vague unease, like cold wind on my back.
I'd thought I was just anxious. But as time passed, the feeling grew stronger, sharper, like a needle jabbing up my spine along the nerves.
This was the fated mate bond.
I'd never taken it seriously—I'd always considered it a cruel joke from the Moon Goddess, an excuse to force a mute girl on me. I'd deliberately ignored its existence, pretended it was just instinctive impulse, pretended those late-night restlessness and anxiety were just me overthinking.
But now it pressed against my chest like a red-hot iron.
She was afraid. She was in danger.
I didn't dare think further.
I galloped out the palace gates, hooves clattering on the stone road. Night wind hit my face, my cloak snapping behind me. Clouds covered most of the moon, only a few stars twinkling overhead.
That road. The road to Willos. The route I'd personally chosen—remote, desolate, safe.
Safe.
The word now sounded like a cruel joke.
Why had I chosen that road? Because the elders said it was most discreet, wouldn't attract attention. Because I'd just wanted her gone quickly—the sooner the better, the farther the better—
Because I hadn't cared what she thought at all.
Violent nausea churned in my stomach. I bent over, nearly vomiting off the horse.
I was the king. I was Moonhowl Kingdom's Alpha. I was supposed to protect her—
And I'd never believed her, had only ever hurt her.
The horse raced down the forest path, branches whipping my face, but I didn't slow. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat screaming the same name.
Mia. Mia. Mia.
Then I heard sounds.
Metal clashing. Men shouting. And—
A muffled groan.
My body reacted faster than my brain. I reined the horse, jumped down, drew my sword, and charged toward the sound.
Under the moonlight, chaos.
The shattered carriage lay overturned by the roadside, horses down in pools of blood. Several black-clad figures surrounded a slight form, blades gleaming in the moonlight.
And she—Mia—stood at the cliff's edge, clutching a rock, glaring at them like a cornered beast. Her skirt was torn, blood flowing from a wound on her arm, hair disheveled over her shoulders.
But she didn't back down.
"Get back!" I roared, sword raised, charging in.
The attackers clearly hadn't expected anyone. They turned, saw my sword and the undisguised killing intent in my eyes, and hesitated for an instant.
That instant was enough.
My blade slashed the first man's throat, warm liquid splashing my face. The second didn't raise his weapon before my kick sent him flying into a tree trunk with a thud.
The remaining men looked at their fallen comrades, then at me, then turned and fled into the forest.
I stood there, breathing hard, sword still dripping blood. I turned toward Mia—
Then the rock beneath her foot gave way.
Her body lurched, arms flailing for anything to grab. I reached for her, but my fingertips only grazed her sleeve—
She fell.
"Mia!"
I lunged to the cliff's edge, heart nearly stopping. In the moonlight, I saw she hadn't fallen straight down—one hand desperately gripped a branch jutting from the rock face, her whole body suspended in midair, rushing river below.
The branch creaked.
"Give me your hand!" I lay flat, reaching down as far as I could. "Quick, give me your hand!"
She looked up at me.
Those eyes—those eyes that had once shone like stars in moonlight—held no joy now, no relief, no "you came to save me" gratitude.
Only a cold, complete, stranger-viewing calm.
That calm frightened me more than any anger.
"Mia, hurry!" My voice shook, I could hear the branch splintering louder. "Give me your hand, I'll pull you up!"
She didn't move.
She just looked at me with those terrifyingly calm eyes.
"I know the truth," I nearly shouted, voice so hoarse I didn't recognize it. "You wrote those songs. Leah deceived me—she stole everything from you. I... I was wrong. I shouldn't have doubted you. I shouldn't have—"
I stopped, took a deep breath, and felt my eyes burning.
"Please. Give me your hand. Let me make this right."
She still didn't move.
Wind blew past, tossing her loose hair. She looked down at her outstretched hand—that hand trembling slightly, knuckles white from gripping, covered in dirt and blood.
Then she looked up at me.
Her lips moved.
When I heard the sound, I thought I was hallucinating. It was hoarse, broken, like something forced from deep in her throat—like something sealed for twenty years finally found a crack and was desperately trying to escape.
"I—"
She tried again. This time, clearer.
"I—"
She took a deep breath, then—
"I reject you, Zane, as my fated mate."
The words hit my chest like a hammer.
Her voice wasn't beautiful. Hoarse, rough, like rusty gears that hadn't turned in years. But every word in that sentence was terrifyingly clear, like she'd used all her strength to pull each word from her throat and throw them in my face.
The branch gave one final crack.
"Mia—"
She looked at me, those eyes finally showing emotion—not anger, not resentment, but something even more heartbreaking.
Goodbye.
Then she let go.
Her body fell downward, skirt spreading in the moonlight like a blooming flower. Her eyes stayed on me—until darkness swallowed her form.
A dull splash from below, then rushing water, growing fainter and fainter until it vanished completely into the night.
"No—"
I lay at the cliff's edge, looking down. Moonlight shimmered on the river surface, but no sign of anyone.
She was gone.
The river had taken her.
I knelt there, lost track of time. Wind howled in my ears, my cloak snapping. My wolf released a piercing howl inside me—a sound I'd never heard, never imagined could come from a wolf's throat.
The sound of losing everything.
I opened my mouth, wanted to howl—wanted my voice to call her back, wanted to tear through this damned silence—
But my throat produced no sound.
Nothing.
Just like she'd experienced.
I knelt at the cliff's edge, hands on broken stones, head down, gasping for breath. Moonlight fell cold as ice on me.
In the distance, the river kept flowing.
And she was gone.