Chapter 38

Charles

I left that night, regretting my restraint as George drove me back the long, winding roads to the Palace. Leaving Grace’s pack house was a bittersweet moment. My usual happiness about returning home was stifled. I wanted to be at the Mooncrest Pack House with Grace, Cecil, and Richard.

How was it that there was nothing that required my attention when I wanted it, but now, there were things that needed me when I didn’t?

“Heavy lies the head that wears the crown,” I grumbled.

George laughed. “We’ll do our best to get you back to courting.”

I smirked. “Have you met Eason yet?”

“I really don’t want you trying to matchmake me.”

I shrugged. “He’s your type.”

He laughed, but he didn’t disagree.

When I got back to the Palace, the scent of its familiar stone floors and walls wrapped around me, but I couldn’t enjoy it. Sometimes I felt triumph in these halls, but more often than not, the silence was a painful reminder of the life I was supposed to be living, the friends I had lost, the family I had lost, the children I didn’t have, and all the reasons why it was silent.

For the next few days, I darted between the needs of the Clans and helping Grace remotely with preparations. It was a small way to stay connected, to remain a part of her world despite the physical distance between us. Yet, no matter how much I tried to immerse myself in my responsibilities, the conflict within me only seemed to grow stronger. The desire I felt for Grace was undeniable, a force that tugged at my every thought and action. But I couldn’t ignore the weight of my position as Lycan King, the responsibilities that demanded my focus and attention.

I could be there and be here, and I wasn’t convinced that being here was really what I wanted to do.

One evening as the moon started to lift into the sky, I settled on my balcony. George was seated beside me, drinking from his own glass as we looked up at the moon. Snow started to fall, capping the forest around us.

“Cecil would love it here,” I said.

“Shall I start planning a five-year-old princess birthday party?” George asked.

I smiled. “Yes, actually. Her birthday is Heart Moon Day.”

He groaned. “You look sappy. If anyone saw you like this—“

“I’d rip their eyes out.”

He laughed. “You think you could convince her to say to hell with her pack and come here?”

I shook my head, thinking about the light in her eyes while she talked about the preparations for the Winter Moon Festival. She was engrossed in the tasks at hand, and I was fucking smitten with that light and warmth in her. Her devotion to her pack made me covet her even more as my future queen. She was everything my mate wasn’t, by some cruel twist of fate. The scent of pine and snow filled the night air.

“I don’t think so.”

“Try harder,” he groused. “Buy better gifts… Maybe offer her Devin’s cock mounted in a trophy case.”

I snorted. “I don’t think she’d like that. It wouldn’t be much of a trophy, would it?”

George laughed. “You would know. You changed his diapers.”

I snorted and pulled out my phone as it chimed.

The number was familiar. The contact was unexpected.

What could Tessa want?

“I know that look,” George said as I sat up. “Don’t read it. She’s not in danger.”

I shook my head and opened it anyway.

The words on the screen were brief, a stark reminder of the reality that lingered beneath the surface.

Devin called me. Just give him the money.

My lips curled into a snarl as I stared at the message, the words heavy with implications. There was no sense of hope in her words, no plea for understanding or reconciliation. Instead, it was a simple directive, a reminder of the burden that my position as Lycan King carried. A reminder that she thought she had power over me just because we were mates.

I clenched my jaw, my grip on the phone tightening. The weight of the situation was not lost on me. My mate—someone I was bound to by the intricate threads of fate—had become a duty, a responsibility I was obligated to uphold. There was no affection in her message, no connection that extended beyond the surface.

I wasn’t surprised that Devin had reached out to her. He must have whined quite a bit to get her to reach out to me or promised her something. I found myself at a crossroads. My emotions were in turmoil.

How much longer could I put off the inevitable?

With a heavy sigh, I locked my phone and set it aside. I knew that I couldn’t ignore the message and that the situation demanded a response. But at that moment, I was too conflicted, too angry, too something to respond the way I usually would.

As the festival drew near, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the threads of my life were intertwining in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

“Do you believe in the Goddess?”

George huffed. “She’s either a bitch, got a fucked up sense of humor, or doesn’t exist.”

I nodded. “I find myself hard-pressed to agree.”

“What did she say?”

“Give him the money.”

George hissed. “You should cut her off for a month.”

I laughed. “George—“

“Tell her that the money going to Devin and Amy had to come from somewhere. See how quickly she changes her fucking tune.”

“Your advisement is always welcome.”

“Play it up. How could you reject an earnest request from your mate, hm?” He scowled and took a drink. “She makes me sick, and I hope she only gets twigs for the Festival.”

I chuckled. The weight of my responsibilities as Lycan King had never felt heavier than at this moment. I felt like I was caught in a whirlwind of obligations and emotions that seemed to be pulling me in different directions. I turned to my assistant, George, seeking answers to questions that had been haunting me. The idea of breaking the mate bond, of severing the connection that tied me to my mate, was a decision not to be taken lightly. I knew that such an action would come with consequences, both physical and emotional, and I needed to understand the full extent of what I would be facing.

“George,” I began, my voice heavy with the weight of my thoughts, “have you found any information about breaking the mate bond?”

George’s expression grew serious as he nodded.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone cautious. “Breaking the mate bond is possible, but it won’t be without its challenges. The process will be excruciating, and it will leave you physically weakened for a significant amount of time—likely a few months.”

I absorbed his words, the gravity of the situation sinking in. To willingly endure such pain and vulnerability was a decision that required careful consideration. My gaze drifted over the snowy landscape. The moon was casting its silvery glow over the landscape.

“Have you set up an appointment?” I inquired, my voice low.

George shook his head, his expression sympathetic. “Not yet, Your Highness. I wanted to inform you of the potential consequences before proceeding. And I also believe that there might be another perspective to consider.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his words. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a witch who resides within our territory,” George explained. “She has a unique perspective on matters such as these. I thought it might be valuable to consult her before making a final decision.”

I considered his suggestion, the idea of seeking guidance from someone outside of our lycan traditions intriguing me. The witch’s insights might offer a different perspective, shedding light on a future that felt increasingly uncertain. We didn’t have many issues with witches. They, like werewolves, relied quite a bit on us for safety.

Nodding slowly, I made up my mind. “Set up an appointment with the witch. I want to know what she has to say.”

George nodded, his gaze steady. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll arrange it immediately.”

He pulled out his phone. I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. The path I was considering was fraught with challenges, yet the allure of breaking free from the bonds that had kept me tethered to duty was undeniable. With the Winter Moon Festival approaching, I found myself standing at a crossroads, unsure of the path that lay ahead. But one thing was certain: the choices I would make in the coming days would shape not only my destiny but the fate of our pack and the fragile bond that was forming between Grace and me.

“Can I also cut her off?”

“George.”

“Just a month?” He asked. “I promise she have money again after the New Year.”

I laughed. “Do what you want.”

He grinned ferally. “Don’t give orders like that to me, my King. She might show up and seduce you.”