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Chapter Thirteen

G riffin Wild

The crown sits heavy on my head today. Six months. Six long, hollow months since she vanished. The note she left still rests in the top drawer of my desk, the paper worn thin from how often I’ve unfolded it, read it, and folded it again, as if the words might somehow change.

You were right. I will never be your mate. I helped you escape captivity. To return that favor, all I ask is for one thing: Don’t look for me.

I didn’t. Not actively, anyway, even though every fiber of my being screamed to search for her, to follow her scent across continents if necessary. But I respected her wish. I owed her that much.

Erik believes differently. He has tracked her movements for months, against my explicit orders. “She’s alive,” he told me once, his eyes searching mine for any reaction. I gave him none. The king I’ve become doesn’t reveal weakness, even to his brother.

The pen in my hand snaps, ink spilling across the reports detailing the latest outbreak of the disease.

The second wave is spreading rapidly—over three hundred affected now, unable to shift, their wolves locked away behind some invisible barrier.

The first wave responded to Maya’s antidote, but this mutation is resistant.

The healers are baffled, and the council grows more desperate with each passing day.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. “Enter,” I call, my voice flat.

Erik steps in, his expression grim. “Another twenty-three cases reported today.”

I nod, unsurprised. “Location?”

“Mostly within our kingdom, but there are reports coming in from the Eastern Kingdom now.” He drops into the chair across from me without waiting for permission. “The elders are demanding action.”

“Let me guess,” I say dryly. “They want me to find her.”

Erik’s silence is answer enough. I rise from my chair and move to the window. The gardens below are in full bloom, vibrant with life. I find it almost offensive how the world continues to thrive when everything inside me feels leached of color.

“We should discuss what we found at the facility,” Erik says quietly.

I tense up. The memory of that night still haunts me—the abandoned laboratories, the empty cells, the bodies.

So many bodies, shifters taken and experimented on like animals.

Some we were able to identify from missing persons reports.

Others remain nameless, faceless victims of the Silver Ring’s cruelty.

“There’s nothing more to discuss,” I respond coldly. “They cleared out before we arrived. We were too late.”

“We saved some of them, Griffin.” Erik’s voice softens. “Seven survivors. That’s not nothing.”

Seven out of how many? I don’t voice the thought. The survivors remain in the healing ward, many still unable to speak about what was done to them. Their eyes hold the same haunted look I sometimes catch in my own reflection.

“The council meeting is in an hour,” I say instead, changing the subject. “Have Aria’s physicians been summoned?”

“They’re waiting to give their report.” Erik hesitates. “Her condition is deteriorating rapidly. Elder Vane is—”

“Furious,” I finish for him. “I’m well aware.”

Once, the thought of Aria falling sick would have moved me—before I became a captive, before Maya entered my life, and before Aria pursued me after Maya left.

Now, I feel only strategic concern. She is the daughter of Elder Vane, head of one of the most powerful families in the kingdom.

Her illness means political complications I cannot afford.

When did I become so cold?

The answer whispers through me like a ghost: Since the night of the ceremony. Since the prophecy. Since Maya left.

“Griffin,” Erik says, breaking into my thoughts. “You haven’t asked about her in months.”

I don’t pretend to misunderstand. “There’s nothing to ask.”

“I found her again.” The words hang in the air between us. “Last month.”

Something cracks in my carefully maintained composure. “Where?”

“Seattle.” Erik watches me closely. “She has established herself there. Working for a biotech research firm called GenTherapeutics.”

The name means nothing to me, but I file it away automatically. “Is she safe?”

“She appears to be.” Erik hesitates again. “She seems well. Focused on her work. She’s their lead researcher already.”

Lead researcher. In six months. I’m not surprised. Maya was always brilliant, always driven. Of course she would excel, would rebuild her life from the ashes of what we destroyed.

“Good,” I say, turning back to the window to hide whatever might show on my face. “That’s good.”

“Griffin…” Erik’s voice is pained. “The mate bond—”

“Is irrelevant,” I cut him off. “She made her choice. I made mine.”

“The prophecy may not—”

“Enough.” The word cracks like a whip. “The council meeting, Erik. See that everything is prepared.”

He rises, frustration evident in every line of his body, but he doesn’t push further. At the door, he pauses. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

It’s not a question. The bond between brothers is different from a mate bond, but it has its own form of awareness.

“I have a kingdom to run,” I reply.

“You’re no good to the kingdom if you drive yourself into the ground.” His tone softens. “She wouldn’t want this for you, Griffin.”

A harsh laugh escapes me. “I think it’s exactly what she would want.”

Erik shakes his head but leaves without another word. The silence he leaves behind presses against me like a physical weight.

I go back to my desk and open the drawer, taking out the note one more time. Her handwriting is neat, precise—just like everything else about her. Rational. Methodical. Except for the way she loved. That was chaotic, all-consuming, unlike anything I’d ever known.

And I threw it away. For a prophecy I didn’t want to believe. For a kingdom that suddenly seems worthless without her in it.

Her wording was very particular, clearly to let me know that she had heard my conversation with Erik from the terrace that night, that she had caught the slight to her when I’d had Aria on my arm rather than her.

Her mother died that night.

A brutal rejection, and then the loss of the only family she had.

A part of me wonders what would have happened if Maya had stayed.

I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.

My wolf still mourns at the thought of my mate’s pain, wanting to offer her comfort.

There are times I can still feel a hint of the bond between us, weakened by my verbal rejection that she heard, buried under the layers of grief wrapped around her heart.

But I harden my resolve. Better she hate me than the alternative. A world without Maya is not one I’m willing to live in.

I refold the note carefully, returning it to its place before making my way to the council chamber. The elders rise as I enter, bowing with varying degrees of sincerity. Elder Vane’s bow is barely more than a nod, his face tight with fear and anger.

“Your Majesty,” Elder Thorne begins as we take our seats. “The reports from the healers are grim. This new strain of the disease—”

“I’ve read the reports,” I interrupt coldly. “Twenty-three new cases today. Three hundred forty-two total.”

“My daughter,” Elder Vane cuts in, “is dying.”

The room falls silent at the raw emotion in his voice. Six months ago, I might have offered comfort. Now, I merely nod in acknowledgment.

“All of our healers are working to adapt Dr. Sorin’s original antidote,” I say. “Progress is being made.”

“Not quickly enough,” Elder Vane retorts. “Aria has perhaps a week, if that. And she is not the only one in critical condition.”

Elder Monroe, whose grandson is among the afflicted, speaks up. “Your Majesty, we must consider all options. If Dr. Sorin could be persuaded to return—”

“Dr. Sorin made her position clear when she left,” I say flatly. “She will not be returning.”

“Have you even tried to contact her?” Elder Vane demands, protocol forgotten in his desperation.

“No,” I admit. “Nor will I.”

The council erupts in murmurs of shock and disapproval. Only Elder Blackwood remains silent, watching me with shrewd eyes.

“You would let my daughter die rather than face your human mate?” Elder Vane’s voice rises dangerously.

“My mate?” I laugh coldly. “Wasn’t it just a few months ago that you refused to acknowledge Maya as my fated mate? And you and your daughter were trying to persuade me to take her as my mate, instead?”

The man’s face pales.

“Maya Sorin is not my mate,” I say coolly, my eyes on him, each word precise and cutting. “And I will not drag her back here against her will.”

“Then send someone else,” Elder Monroe suggests. “Surely she would not refuse to help if she understood the severity of the situation.”

I consider this.

“Perhaps,” I concede. “But whom would you send? Most of our diplomats are unavailable, already engaged in negotiations with the Northern and Eastern Kingdoms.”

“I will go,” Elder Vane offers immediately.

I shake my head. “No. Your place is with your daughter.” Plus, I don’t trust him not to use force if persuasion fails. Despite everything that is happening here, I will not allow Maya to be coerced.

“Then who?” Elder Blackwood asks, speaking for the first time.

A stillness settles over me. “I will go.”

The council stares at me in collective disbelief.

“Your Majesty,” Elder Thorne protests, “in these uncertain times, the kingdom needs its king present.”

“The kingdom needs a cure,” I counter. “And I am the one most likely to secure Dr. Sorin’s cooperation.” A lie. I am probably the last person she wishes to see. But the thought of her refusing aid because the messenger was too forceful, too intimidating, is unacceptable.

“When will you depart?” Elder Blackwood asks.

“Tomorrow.” I stand, signaling the end of the discussion. “Make the necessary arrangements.”

The council disperses, leaving only Erik and me behind. “You’re going yourself,” he says, sounding surprised. “Why? I thought you didn’t want to see her.”