Epilogue
TWO WEEKS PRIOR
The moment I grabbed the crystal from King Elion’s desk, a heat of energy surged up my arm, and I knew it was mine.
Yet even after taking it, I couldn’t bring myself to have that conversation with Rydian, knowing he would scold me for being reckless—sneaking back into the archives by myself.
But after a week, I wanted to confront Milena about the relationship my mother had with King Elion in private, believing she had the answers I was searching for.
Like who my father is, because I had the suspicion that it wasn’t King Andre. And King Elion’s physical similarities with me couldn’t be mere coincidence.
Not with the power surging through my veins, humming constantly, begging to be unleashed despite my essence being pulled out. Shifting from a burning heat to an iciness forming at my fingertips.
I only planned on being gone today, having told Rydian I had a mission. And so I Veiled out of my chamber and into the woods first thing this morning.
Crisp leaves fly across the wet ground, forcing me to pull my cloak a little tighter across my chest as I follow Grim further into the trees—leading me to Milena.
The Howler is as terrifying as he is beautiful—dark gray with a white undercoat, fur thick for winter. His haunches reach the tops of my shoulders, making the top of his head near my total height. He makes me feel small.
His bushy tail barely grazes the frozen ground, brushing my ankles as we walk further into the forest. After a few silent minutes, we arrive just outside what looks to be a den made solidly of stone.
The ground is covered in a light layer of snow, and I look up.
It’s easily as tall as I am, if not a little bigger.
“Milena is inside,” he grumbles.
My brows pinch. Why not just meet in her cottage?
Warm light flickers across the stone and although cold out, it’s surprisingly warm inside. The ground is covered in an array of leaves as the scent of pine and earth fill my nostrils.
Grim steps aside. Milena kneels near a dark ebony-coated Howler as an orb floats above them, as she has just given birth to seven pups.
Milena glances over her shoulder with raised brows, glasses halfway down her nose, hair messily gathered into a loose bun. With a huff and a glare, she returns to the Howler as if this was any other day.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she says.
The female Howler opens her eyes, lifting them to mine as if she just realized my presence, and growls. I step back, my eyes darting back to Milena, who’s focused on Grim, tilting her head as if having a silent conversation.
“You have a crystal, and you’re here to see if it’s yours?” Milena asks me.
I swallow and nod. “I also have a few other questions to ask you, if you have time.”
She shoots a glance down, furrowing her brows. “Well, Nisha just informed me that she birthed her last pup a few minutes ago. I guess I’ll leave the new parents to tend to their pups.”
Straightening, she grabs a linen cloth. She wipes her hands and ushers me out of the den as Grim settles himself next to Nisha.
“I didn’t know there were more Howlers nearby. I’ve never seen something so beautiful. Seven pups?” I ask as Milena pushes her glasses up her nose, then lays the rag over her shoulder.
“Yes, and I’m shocked Grim allowed you in the den.
That’s his mate,” she says, and we reach the door to her cottage.
“I suspect he trusts you, and that says a lot. With new pups, Howlers are incredibly territorial. And with the female being in such a vulnerable position, the males become quite aggressive.”
She opens her door, urging me to sit at the table, and washes her hands. The fire from the mantel floods my senses and I sit, shrugging off my cloak. She brings two mugs of tea to the table.
“Nisha has been his mate for twenty years now. It’s still considered a new pairing,” Milena says.
“And they’re born in the winter?” Most animals would have a litter in the spring or summer when it’s warm.
She hums, nodding. “They’re the only kind to have litters in the middle of winter. A survival test. Pups who survive winter are privileged enough to live, forged in the harshest conditions. By the time spring arrives, they are no longer pups but survivors.”
“Have they lost any?”
“They’re the first pairing to have every pup survive winter, making them the strongest living pair for the last 200 years.
Howlers have pups once every two, but this is the fourth litter I’ve helped them birth.
It’s a privilege to be accepted as one of their own.
I’ve been in these woods long enough, I guess. ” She chuckles quietly.
I find myself wondering what it’s like for Milena to be isolated from others for so long—to live in solitude with only the Howlers for company, the loneliness stretching over the years.
I wonder how she met them and if she ever longs for something more.
Does she ache for the people she’s lost?
Does she ever wonder if the world has forgotten her as much as she was forced to forget it?
The thought unsettles me, and for a moment, I understand a fraction of what it means to truly be alone.
Yet… a part of me envies her. The quiet—the freedom.
A life untethered from the expectations that come with being part of a realm that demands too much from me. And out here, in the silence, there are no lies to unravel, no hidden secrets, no duty to fulfill. Could I live like this? Would I want to?
“Don’t worry, I like being out here, and they make my time in the woods much more manageable,” she says as if sensing the question on my face. “Show me what you have.”
I glance down and huff. “First, I have a question about my father.” She eyes me warily, but I force myself to hold her gaze. “Is King Elion my father?”
She’s silent as she sets her mug down with a soft thud against the table, rubbing her thumb over the curve of the handle before looking at me.
My eyes narrow. “My mother was in contact with you all those years, and she didn’t tell you?
Please, I need to know because the power surging through me isn’t just from Aurelia, and I need to figure out how to control it before it gets out of hand.
How can I talk to animals if I’m from Aurelia?
How can Grim communicate with me? It doesn’t make sense. ”
She takes a long sip, eyeing me over the rim. “I’ve been waiting for that question since you arrived. King Elion is your father, but I was sworn to secrecy by Elynor, and with me being out here alone in the woods, who am I to tell?” She chuckles again, but then her face falls at my reaction.
I fucking knew it. A laugh of disbelief brushes the air as I stand to pace, tears threatening to fall. All this time, I’ve been living in the castle with my father. My real father. I’m not a priority because I’m a female or skilled—I’m his daughter.
A daughter he’s trying to punish for what my mother did to him. Yet every mission I received wasn’t because of my potential, it was to take out his enemies as I killed off my own kind.
Bitterness threatens to consume me, rising in my chest. For years I served King Elion without questioning the missions he gave me, yet he said nothing. Instead, he was stealing my memories and forcing me to believe the lie he’s spun.
Milena’s brows pinch. “You carry the royal essence of both bloodlines, Isa.”
My stomach drops. “How? What does that mean?”
“Truthfully, I don’t know,” she mumbles, but my heart skips with dread.
“Your mother didn’t tell King Andre about the pregnancy until after they had already completed the marriage ritual for her to become queen of Aurelia.
Until she herself had the royal essence, which means you carry the royal essence of the Vaelborne bloodline.
” But also the royal Aethralis bloodline.
I’m heir to both realms.
What’s Rydian going to think? If he knew about this—my real father—would he still want me? I might be considered heir to Aurelia, but would he allow me to accept it? But what if he already knows? He would tell me if he did, right?
My thoughts spiral as I think of the king I began envisioning a life with, but now… now I’m not so sure. My future suddenly feels uncertain, my stomach curling at the thought. Rydian just became an enemy.
Maybe not in my eyes, but I would be in his, especially if my father is King Elion. Rydian would expect me to take Elderheim, not Aurelia. Elynor wasn’t even a Vaelborne.
He’ll never trust me, regardless of how I feel about him. He’ll always see me as his enemy. Gods, I feel sick.
“Please sit, Isa,” Milena says quietly, but my chest tightens, suddenly feeling as if I can’t breathe. Frowning, I close my eyes and take a deep breath and sit, but my legs begin to tremble.
“What do I do?” I ask. Panic threatens to take hold, because what can I do? I have no one to confide in.
“You pretend that you don’t know. He’s cruel, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from working with him, it’s that you need to stay one step ahead. Keep it to yourself and use it, because he will use you and he will not apologize for it.”
I bite my lip as my thoughts continue to whirl, sitting with what she’s advised. I know deep down what she says is true, so I’ll keep it to myself. Which means I can’t tell anyone, not Rydian or the others—not even Ezra.
Gods, I want to tell Ezra. He would know what to do, wouldn’t he? But I’ll form a plan and stay one step ahead.
Milena extends her hand. “I need to see what you have.”
Sucking in a long breath, I grab the crystal from the inside of my cloak. A bright yellow glow whirls wildly within the crystal as if trying to escape.
Her eyes go wide, lost to the sight of it. “How did you get this?”
“That’s not important. I just want to know if it’s mine or not,” I say, hoping she doesn’t ask for more information.
She glances at me before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and hovering a hand over the crystal. She’s feeling it—the energy.