StefanI watch as she embraces Lucy, my eyes taking her in. Is this really Harlyn? Something about her seems so different. She’s no longer the child I saw her as.If anything, she’s a woman, grown far more than anyone I know. My eyes look across her, and I feel I am missing something.I stand dumbfounded. Harlyn barely even looks like herself. She hasn’t even noticed we followed.Diandra steps towards Lucy and Harlyn and pulls me with her. “You returned?” Her words annoy me, and I watch as Harlyn looks towards Diandra.“Harlyn, this is Princess Diandra from Wicklore Pack.” Lucy introduced her, which was good, as I was still speechless.“Oh, I apologise, Your Highness, I didn’t know.” Harlyn does a small curtsy. Who is this woman?“Are you planning to stay?” Diandra asks, and I’m glad she did. I want to know if she will stay.“I am not staying, no,” Harlyn speaks, and I stare, shocked. She’s leaving? Surely not? Why would she leave?“Why? You just got back.” Lucy complains.“I’ve nothi
HarlynI stand confused as Stefan shakes his head at me. I led him to my mother's room; what more did he want right now? I wanted to find Samuel and ask about the wedding, I planned to ask Lucy, but she asked about why I left, and then Stefan interrupted us.I hadn’t noticed he followed after I was introduced to Diandra, or rather, Princess Diandra. They make a perfect couple. She looks just as bossy as he does.“Well, open it and guide us in,” Stefan orders. Every fibre of my being screams with the urge to lash out, to challenge his authority, but I know better than to provoke the king within his own kingdom.Internally, however, I burn with the desire to punch him square in the jaw. How satisfying it would be to wipe that smug expression off his face. But, I am bound by the constraints of hierarchy here. This kingdom isn’t like Wayne’s small city.It’s run by royalty, and they must be respected and followed.With a heavy sigh, I push the door open, ready to turn and walk away as soo
StefanI found myself in a moment of confusion. My hand instinctively reached out to clasp hers, an impulsive act I couldn’t rationalise at the moment. Yet, as our hands connected, a surge of familiarity washed over me, reminiscent of that unforgettable encounter with the mysterious woman.How could this be? The logical part of my mind rebelled against the notion, but the sensation lingered, stubbornly refusing to be ignored.Even after she withdrew her hand, the ghost of her touch lingered on my skin, a palpable reminder of everything.I glanced at her, silently questioning the absurdity of the situation. Could it truly have been her that night? Common sense argued otherwise. After all, why would Jacub, my trusted guard at the time, ever orchestrate such a reckless manoeuvre, jeopardising the friendship between the royal family and Earl?But despite the rational arguments against it, she felt undeniably similar to the woman I had been relentlessly searching for. Determined to unravel
StefanWe continue to spar, and I need to ask him about Harlyn, but I can't just ask straight out without him questioning why.“How are things with you and Lucy?” I ask, unwilling to get into my issues yet. We continue to move against each other and take the hits while blocking others. I know now he can’t attack me with his questions about my eyes, as when I mention Lucy, his mind focuses solely on her, as if no one else exists.I need that. How can I tell him I was so angry because his sister had a ring on? The same sister I threw vile words at and rejected. The one I now realise I hurt, and somehow, that reality hurts me?“All is going well, Stefan,” he smiles at me before swinging; I dodge the hit and swing back.“And the wedding, have you two decided when this will happen?” I know they kept planning it, but they kept putting it off for some reason. “You don’t want to wait too long. You never know when someone might get the courage to sweep her away from you,” I say teasingly. He h
HarlynI glanced up, catching a glimpse of an unusual glow in Stefan’s eyes, which had me curious. I intended to get closer to him for a better look, but before I could, he swiftly excused himself and vanished from the room. Yet, I was sure of what I saw.It reminded me of the radiant hues that dance in the triplets’ eyes when their emotions surge beyond control. This particular glow was unfamiliar to me until I witnessed it as the pups got older: Stefan mirroring Isaac’s fiery red. Thorin’s eyes are an icy blue, and Lotta’s golden yellow. But why did Stefan share this trait with them?This weird similarity begged the question: what did it mean? I had never seen anything like it before, and even Wayne was baffled. Despite our efforts to understand the pups’ unique characteristics, we remained clueless.The lack of answers left me uneasy, prompting a troubling thought. Is Stefan the one with answers about why their eyes are different? As much as I didn’t want to speak to him, he must k
StefanEvery fibre of my being screams at me to flee the manor and distance myself from Harlyn. I'm meant to be marrying Diandra and the longer I am around Harlyn, the more I want her.Yet, Ghost is against my wishes, every since that conversation with Samuel, I've been searching relentlessly for Harlyn. I've searched most of the rooms within the manor and she isn't there.It's not my choice to find her, mind you. I would rather avoid Harlyn right now until my mind is in a settled play. Ghost, my not-so-loyal wolf, is set to speak to her. Him, not me, not that he can, as she doesn't have a wolf. With his annoying strength, he pushes me on this quest to find her and speak to her. I've no idea what Ghost is wanting to accomplish by speaking to her.Well, by me speaking to her, as he can't. Still, he seems convinced she has answers, but he won't tell me what answers.I feel like something is hidden, and Ghost feels it as well. We both feel another connection to Halryn and not the bond an
HarlynStefan stands before me, and I can sense I am annoying him. I feel angry at him, though, and I'm not entirely sure why, so rather than ignoring it, I use it and taunt him.“Yes, that; now you can stop playing dumb and acting like you have no memory of it,” he snaps, and I almost laugh.“I wasn’t playing dumb, Your Majesty. I honestly forgot about it.” Pausing, I smile at him. “Isn’t that what you wanted? This wretch to forget about you and leave you alone?” I watch as his eyes widen at my words.He was expecting a weak, pathetic Harlyn. Sure, I can’t just walk away and dismiss him, but I can undoubtedly use words to taunt him. Hate builds within me, and it's an unusual feeling. Something I can't squash.“Is that all, Your Majesty? I must see the Princess,” I say before turning to leave.His hand snaps out and grabs mine. Again? That is twice in one day he’s touched me.“No, you’re not going anywhere,” his voice echoes, commanding my attention again.I meet his gaze, and there i
Harlyn My heart pounded erratically as I relaxed into the kiss for a brief second. Stefan’s kiss soothed my mind, and it quickly dissolved into a seething anger that ignited within me like wildfire. Without hesitation, I pushed him away with a force fueled by betrayal and hurt. Before I could comprehend the gravity of my actions, my hand swung instinctively, delivering a punch that landed squarely on his jaw. A shocked gasp escaped my lips as I recoiled, my eyes widening in disbelief. I had just punched the king—a reckless act of defiance. “You’re the king! You’re engaged to marry a princess, and you kiss me?” I spat the words out, my voice trembling with fury and disbelief. “This is over, Stefan! Stay away from me.” Turning on my heel, I stormed away, my steps fueled by anger and fear. I couldn't bear to face him and whatever punishment and confrontation would come from my impulsive outburst. I've no idea where that anger came from. I certainly don't want to give him the satisfa