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Her eyes lift to mine, suspicious. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll respect your wishes. I’ll leave Seattle. I won’t look for you or follow you. But in return, I want your word that you’ll stop drinking. That you’ll try to live.”

She stares at me for a long moment, the photograph still clutched in her hand. “Why?”

“Because your life matters,” I say simply. “To them. To me. Even if you don’t believe it right now.”

Something flickers across her face—not quite hope, but perhaps the memory of it. “And if I don’t agree?”

“I’ll stay here,” I tell her. “I’ll follow you every night. I’ll make sure you get home safely. I’ll stop you from drinking yourself into an early grave.”

Her lips twist. “That’s extortion.”

“That’s caring about someone who won’t care about herself.”

“You can’t stay. You have a kingdom to run.” She looks back down at the photo, her thumb brushing over the baby’s face. “She looks like Leanna.”

“She does.” I risk taking a step closer. “But she has Cedric’s temper, according to the latest report.”

The ghost of a smile touches Maya’s lips. “Poor Leanna.”

“Poor Cedric,” I counter. “Leanna seems to find it amusing.”

She’s silent for a long moment, just staring at the image of her friend. I know she has nothing else to say, no promises to make.

My wolf howls in the confines of my mind, not wanting to leave our mate here, not when it knows that she may die, the way she’s treating herself. But Maya is right. I can’t stay.

Wait. Why can’t I drag her back with me? She’s going to die anyway if she goes on living like this. If I force her to come back—

“I will slit my own throat—”

Her dark threat resurfaces in my mind, and taking a deep breath, I turn around. I walk away, leaving my heart behind with her. I’ve done what I came to do—seen her, spoken to her.

But even hours later, as the distance between us grows, as Seattle shrinks to a speck out the window of my plane, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m making a terrible mistake.

Again.

The palace staff fall silent as I pass, eyes averted, postures stiff with formality. News of my return has spread quickly. No one asks about my mission, about whether I’ve secured Dr. Sorin’s help. The answer is written clearly in the set of my shoulders, the grimness of my expression.

Erik meets me in the entrance hall, his face tight with controlled anger. “We need to talk.”

I follow him without question, sensing this is about more than my failed recruitment of Maya. He leads me to my private study and waits for the door to close firmly behind us before speaking.

“I found the servant who was tasked with delivering the message about Maya’s mother’s death.” His voice is clipped, precise. “A young woman named Lydia, assigned to the southern wing at the time.”

“Bring her to me,” I say, struggling to keep the growl from my voice.

“She’s waiting.”

Erik opens the door to the adjoining office, gesturing to someone beyond. A slight, dark-haired girl enters, hands clasped tightly before her, eyes downcast.

“Your Majesty.” She curtsies deeply, nervously.

“Look at me,” I order gently.

She does, her face pale with fear.

“You have nothing to fear if you speak the truth,” I assure her. “Tell me about the night of Helen Sorin’s death. About the message that was supposedly delivered to me.”

She swallows visibly. “I–I was told to inform Lady Aria that there had been a fire at the cottages. That Dr. Sorin’s mother was inside.”

“Told by whom?”

“The head of security, sir. He said it was urgent, that you needed to be informed immediately, but that Lady Aria had volunteered to deliver the message herself since you were away.”

I exchange a look with Erik, whose mouth tightens into a grim line.

“And did you speak with Dr. Sorin that night?” I ask.

Lydia shakes her head slowly. “No, Sire. A palace official approached me. I told him that Lady Aria had taken the message, that she said she would make sure you knew.”

“And the next morning?”

Her face crumples slightly. “Lady Aria told me—She told me to make sure Dr. Sorin knew that you had received the message but would not be returning. That there were more important matters requiring your attention than a human woman’s death.”

The growl that escapes me makes the girl flinch. Erik places a warning hand on my arm, a silent reminder to control myself.

“Is there anything else?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain steady.

She hesitates, then speaks in a rush: “Lady Aria gave instructions that any surviving belongings of Dr. Sorin’s were to be disposed of if she left. She said that humans were fickle creatures who would not return once they’d run away.”

“You are dismissed,” Erik says before I can respond, clearly sensing my rising fury. “Thank you for your honesty.”

The girl curtsies again and flees, undoubtedly relieved to escape the tension crackling in the air.

When the door closes behind her, I give voice to the rage building inside me. “Where is she?”

“Griffin—”

“Where is Aria?” I demand again.

“At home. She has refused to leave ever since the connection with her wolf began to fade.”

The noble families reside in close quarters to the palace, an area cordoned off for shifter use only. Their mansions are magnificent works, but I am in no mood to admire anything.

As I enter Aria’s home, each step fuels the cold fury burning through my veins. I should have seen this sooner. Should have questioned the too-neat explanation of Helen’s death, the convenient timing of Maya’s departure.

The guards outside Aria’s chambers straighten up as we approach, then bow deeply.

“Leave us,” I command.

They hesitate, glancing toward the closed door.

“That was not a request,” I say softly.

They bow again and retreat down the corridor. I push the door open without knocking.

The room contains a canopy bed and a sitting area where Aria is currently lounging, looking upset. As soon as she sees me, she jumps to her feet, delight all over her face. “Griffin! You finally came!”

She rushes over to me, but the dour look on my face has her faltering. “W–What is it?”

“Your Majesty.” Elder Vane enters the room and bows to me. “We did not expect—”

“Leave us,” I tell him, my tone making it clear this is not optional.

“My daughter is unwell,” he protests. “She needs—”

“What she needs, ” I interrupt coldly, “is to answer for what she’s done.”

His brow furrows. “I don’t understand.”

“Then you may stay and hear her answers alongside me.”

Aria looks uneasy now. “What is it? Did the human refuse to help?”

“Her name,” I say quietly, dangerously, “is Dr. Maya Sorin. And she did refuse. Do you know why?”

Aria’s gaze slides away from mine, and she retreats to her bed, where she stretches out. “How would I know the mind of a human?”

“Because you deliberately sabotaged any chance of her return,” I answer. “You intercepted the message for me about her mother’s death. You told her I refused to come back. You ordered her belongings destroyed.”

“That’s absurd,” Elder Vane interjects. “My daughter would never—”

“Three witnesses,” I cut him off. “Three different palace staff members confirm it.”

Aria’s expression hardens, revealing the calculation beneath. “So what if I did? The death of one measly human shouldn’t have been significant enough to distract you from your royal duties.” Her lip curls in disdain. “I did what any shifter would have done.”

“Aria!” her father gasps, shocked.

“It’s true,” she insists, sitting up straighter. “And that scientist was nothing. A distraction. A pet you were oddly attached to. I helped remove an obstacle from your path.”

“An obstacle,” I repeat, my voice deadly quiet. “She was my fated mate.”

“She was human,” Aria spits out. “Unworthy of you. Unworthy of our kingdom.”

“And her mother’s death?” I press. “What do you know of that?”

Something crosses her face—not quite guilt, but at least caution. “How would I know anything about it?”

“The convenient timing. The missing surveillance footage. The guard mysteriously reassigned.” I step closer, looming over her bed. “Strange coincidences, wouldn’t you say?”

“Coincidences happen.” Her voice wavers slightly.

“Not this many.”

Elder Vane moves between us, his face ashen. “Your Majesty, surely you’re not suggesting—”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” I say coldly. “I’m asking your daughter directly if she had anything to do with Helen Sorin’s death.”

“Of course not,” Aria says too quickly. “But I won’t pretend to mourn her. She was just another pest that happened to die. Like mother, like daughter—neither of them belonged here.”

My hands clench into fists at my sides, claws threatening to emerge. “One of those ‘pests’ is the only person who can save your life, Aria. And because of your cruelty, she refuses to help.”

For the first time, fear flashes across her face. “You’re lying.”

“Dr. Sorin developed the antidote that saved the first wave of infected shifters,” I tell her. “She is the only scientist with the knowledge necessary to combat this new strain.”

“Then, force her to help!” Aria demands, desperation creeping into her voice. “You’re the king. Make her!”

“You still don’t understand, do you?” I ask softly. “She has refused specifically because of what you did. Because she believes our kind murdered her mother and then turned our backs on her grief.”

Elder Vane’s face contorts with sudden fury. “This is outrageous! One human life against hundreds of our kind?” He draws himself up to his full height. “I will bring her back myself. I will drag her here and whip her until she saves my daughter’s life!”

The growl that tears from my throat is fully inhuman, my control finally snapping. I grab him by the throat, lifting him until his feet dangle above the floor.

“If you so much as look in Maya’s direction,” I say, my voice guttural and rough with the partial shift, “I will kill your daughter myself.”

His eyes bulge with shock and fear.

“Do you understand me?” I tighten my grip just enough to make him gasp. “You go near my mate, and Aria dies by my hand.”

He nods frantically. I release him, and he collapses to the floor, coughing.

“Guards!” Aria shrieks, her composure finally shattered. “Guards!”

The door bursts open as the palace guards rush in, weapons drawn. They freeze, uncertain, looking between me and the fallen elder.

“Escort Elder Vane to his chambers,” I order coldly. “He is confined there until further notice.”

“You can’t do this,” Aria protests, her face flushed with rage. “Father, tell him he can’t do this!”

But Elder Vane is silent as the guards help him to his feet, his eyes fixed on me with new understanding—and fear.

“I am the king,” I remind them both. “I can do exactly as I please.” I turn to leave, then pause, looking back at Aria. “If I were you, I would get my affairs in order.”

Days pass in tense silence. The palace holds its breath, waiting. The elders whisper behind closed doors, but none of them dare challenge me openly—not after what happened with Elder Vane.

The disease continues to spread. Forty new cases reported. Then sixty. Aria’s condition worsens, her wolf fading rapidly from her.

I throw myself into kingdom business, into reviewing the investigation of Helen’s death, into anything that might distract from the ache of Maya’s absence.

I’m in the war room, poring over maps of recent outbreak locations, when Erik bursts in.

“Griffin,” he says, breathless. “She’s here.”

My head snaps up. “Who?”

But I already know. I can feel it—a hum in my blood, a stirring of the bond that’s been dormant for so long.

“Dr. Sorin,” Erik confirms. “She arrived at the gates ten minutes ago.”

I’m moving before he finishes speaking, striding through the palace corridors with barely restrained urgency. Guards and servants flatten themselves against walls to let me pass, and hushed whispers erupt behind me.

Outside, the afternoon sun is bright, the air crisp for springtime. I scan the grounds frantically, searching.

And then I see her.

She stands before the ruins of her mother’s cottage, still just a blackened foundation despite the months that have passed. Her back is to me, shoulders straight but somehow fragile beneath her simple, dark jacket.

I approach slowly, not wanting to startle her. But she must sense me, because she speaks without turning.

“My mother probably suffocated in her sleep from the smoke,” she says, her voice flat. “I like to think she didn’t feel any pain. But I don’t know.”

I stop a few paces away, unsure if I’m welcome any closer. “Maya—”

“I have nightmares about it,” she continues as if I haven’t spoken. “About her calling for me, waiting for me to save her. The alcohol helps with that, at least. I don’t dream when I drink.”

The admission tears at my heart. “I’m sorry.”

She turns to face me now, and I’m struck by the changes in her. She’s still thin, still hollow-eyed, but there’s a clarity in her gaze that wasn’t there in Seattle.

“I’m not here for you,” she says flatly. “I’m here because I don’t want Leanna or her children to suffer. That’s the only reason.”

“I understand.” And I do. It’s more than I deserve, more than I could have hoped for. “Thank you.”

She nods once, curtly. “I’ll need access to your labs. And samples from the infected shifters. Everything you have on the disease so far.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

Her gaze moves away from mine, back to the ruins. “I threw everything away, you know. Everything you left in my apartment. The food. The note.”

The words shouldn’t hurt—I expected nothing less—but they do. A sharp ache beneath my ribs.

“I don’t want anything from you, Griffin,” she continues. “Not help, not comfort, not protection. I’m here to do a job, and when it’s done, I’m leaving. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” The word comes out rougher than I intend. “Crystal clear.”

She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, straightening up as if preparing for battle. “I should get to the lab, then. We’re wasting time.”

I lead her silently back toward the palace, acutely aware of the distance she maintains between us—a cold, empty space that feels wider than any ocean.