Epilogue
Anna
I always loved sneaking up to the highest point of the palace at dusk, watching my father and mother stroll through the gardens below. They thought no one could see them, but from my little secret lookout, I had a perfect view of everything.
My father, King Perock, a man who appeared as imposing as a mountain in front of others, became like a playful boy in my mother’s presence.
He would suddenly pop out from behind her, startling her with a gasp; he would sneakily take her hand when no one was looking, gently kissing her fingertips; and on full moon nights, he would transform into that silver-gray wolf, circling around her and making her burst into laughter.
And my mother, Queen Lilia, a resolute and powerful ruler in the court, softened like a stream under moonlight when she was with my father.
She would adjust his tie, forcefully pull him away from his desk when he overworked, and tightly hold his hand when he felt uneasy, silently giving him strength.
“They’re beautiful together, aren’t they?” a warm, familiar voice broke through my thoughts, startling me from my reverie.
I spun around, my heart leaping, to find my grandmother, the former queen of Fellinger, standing at the tower’s edge, her silver hair catching the starlight, a knowing smile curving her lips.
In her arms, my little sister, nestled close, her chubby cheeks dimpling as she beamed at me, her tiny hand waving with uncoordinated enthusiasm, her giggles a soft trill in the quiet.
“Grandmother!” I stammered, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my dress. “I wasn’t—I mean, I was just—”
Grandmother’s chuckle was rich and warm, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she eased herself onto the stone bench beside me, her movements graceful despite the years etched into her face.
“No need to explain, little Anna,” she said, her voice laced with amusement, settling my sister in her lap, where the toddler promptly grabbed a strand of her hair, cooing contentedly.
“When I was your age, I loved sneaking around, watching people too, catching glimpses of their unguarded moments.” She followed my gaze to the garden below, where my parents walked hand in hand, their silhouettes a study in harmony. “They’re fated mates, you know.”
I nodded, my eyes drifting back to them, a familiar ache of wonder stirring in my chest. The legend of fated mates had been my lullaby, woven into bedtime tales by my parents and grandmother, but none captivated me like the saga of my mother and father—a love born amidst betrayal, forged through sacrifice, and sealed by a triumph that united two kingdoms. Their story was a beacon, proof that love could conquer even the darkest trials.
“Can you feel it?” Grandmother asked, her voice soft, her gaze searching mine, as if peering into my soul. “That connection, that unspoken but undeniable thread that binds them?”
I nodded again. Even from this distance, I could sense the unique tie between them. When they stood together, it was as if invisible threads of gold and silver bound them, creating a perfect whole.
“When they’re together, it’s like two stars meant to orbit each other, finally finding their place,” I said quietly, the words spilling from my heart, raw and true.
Grandmother’s eyes sparkled with approval, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder, a gentle weight that felt like a blessing. “Anna, you see the world with a wisdom far beyond your years,” she said, her voice warm with pride. “Your heart is open, your mind sharp—a rare gift for one so young.”
“How did they know?” I asked, curiosity bubbling up, my voice earnest, hungry for understanding. “How did they know the other was their fated mate?”
Her expression softened, a distant memory flickering in her storm-gray eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Sometimes, the soul recognizes its match the moment they meet,” she said, her voice a quiet melody.
“For your father and mother, despite the chaos of lies and deception that surrounded them, their wolves knew instantly, calling to each other across the divide, a bond that no force could sever. Even when their minds doubted, their hearts never wavered.”
Below, I saw my father swept my mother into his arms, spinning her under the moonlight, her laughter rising like silver bells, bright and free, a sound that seemed to light the night.
Watching them, a deep yearning stirred within me, a longing for a love like theirs—pure, unshakable, a connection that made the world feel whole, that set my soul ablaze.
My wolf rumbled softly, her presence a quiet promise, as if she too dreamed of the day she’d find her match.
“You’ll find your fated mate, Anna,” Grandmother said, her voice gentle but certain, as if she’d read the quiet wish in my heart. “When the time is right, when your path aligns with theirs.”
“But what if I don’t?” I asked, a flicker of worry creeping into my voice, my fingers twisting together. “What if my fated mate isn’t a prince or a noble? What if he is just… ordinary?”
Grandmother’s laughter was warm, laced with the wisdom of a life rich with lessons.
“True love doesn’t care about titles or status, my dear,” she said, her eyes crinkling with mirth.
“Your mother was once a maid, bound by chains, her wolf has been sealed away, locked deep within her, yet look at her now—a queen, beloved by her people, cherished by a king, a woman who reshaped fate itself.”
I smiled, my heart swelling with pride, the familiar contours of my mother’s story a comfort, a tale I’d begged to hear countless times.
From a wolf unable to shift, enslaved and broken, to a queen uniting two kingdoms, she’d risen through courage, love, and an unyielding spirit, rewriting her destiny and my father’s, proving that even the darkest paths could lead to light.
“And,” Grandmother added, her tone thoughtful, her gaze distant as if recalling her own journey, “the most important thing isn’t who you find, but how you nurture that bond. A fated mate isn’t the end of the journey—it’s the beginning, a promise to grow together, to face every storm as one.”
I nodded, the words sinking in, though their full weight eluded me, my mind still tangled in dreams of love.
My gaze drifted back to my parents, now leaning against an ancient oak, their foreheads touching, the world forgotten in their shared quiet.
I tucked the feeling away—that call of a soul to another, that spark of recognition—vowing to hold it close until I found my own, a beacon to guide me through the years ahead.
My coming-of-age ceremony was held on my eighteenth birthday, marking the day I officially debuted as the heir to the throne.
The palace was filled with nobles and royalty from various countries, including many young princes and dukes.
They were all eager to share a dance with me, perhaps hoping to win the favor of the future queen of the united kingdoms.
My little sister was thrilled, experiencing so many new faces for the first time. In contrast, I felt a bit underwhelmed and lacked enthusiasm.
“You look breathtaking, Anna,” my mother said, her voice warm as she stepped behind me in my chambers, her hands smoothing the folds of my silver-white gown, its intricate embroidery of moonstones and wolf motifs catching the chandelier’s glow, a symbol of our united realms. Her touch was steady, a reminder of her strength, her love a quiet anchor.
“Thank you, Mother,” I said, managing a smile, though my nerves fluttered like trapped birds, my reflection in the mirror a stranger—poised, regal, but restless beneath the surface.
My father entered, his presence commanding, his royal tunic a deep blue that echoed his wolf’s silver-gray fur, but his face softened as he saw me, his amber eyes—my eyes—widening with a mix of awe and pride, a sheen of emotion betraying his usual composure.
“My little girl is all grown up,” he said, his voice thick, a tremor of nostalgia threading through it.
“Father!” I protested, my cheeks warming, a flush of embarrassment mingling with affection. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“To me, you’ll always be the Anna who climbed onto my shoulders to see the stars,” he said, his smile tender, a memory of moonlit nights and childish wonder. He turned to my mother, his gaze softening further. “Lilia, our daughter outshines even you.”
Mother laughed, a bright, musical sound, swatting his arm playfully. “Are you saying I’m fading, Your Majesty?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mock indignation.
Father caught her waist, pulling her close with a grin, his voice low and warm. “You know you’re forever the most beautiful in my eyes,” he said, his words a vow renewed in a glance.
They fell into their familiar dance of affection, oblivious to the world, their love a private universe where no one else existed.
I rolled my eyes for show, a playful gesture, but my heart warmed at their unchanging bond, a love that had endured eighteen years of trials and triumphs, still burning bright, a beacon of what I hoped to find.
But my father’s tone shifted, a serious note cutting through the warmth, his gaze steady on mine. “Anna, about tonight’s ball, there’s something we need to discuss.”
My stomach knotted, a sinking dread confirming my suspicion. “Is it about Prince Raymond?” I asked, my voice quiet, already bracing for their answer.
Mother nodded, her expression gentle but deliberate, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “His parents, and we all think it would be good for you two to spend time together, to get to know each other better,” she said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of expectation.