Days turned into weeks, and yet my mind refused to forget her — the girl from the ball with the trembling hands and honest blue eyes. Emma Henderson.

Her name rolled in my head like a forbidden melody. I told myself it was nothing — that it was simply curiosity, maybe guilt. I rejected her. I made my choice. I had Sienna. The woman who stood by me when the world collapsed, when my father died, and the throne’s weight was thrown upon me.

But lately, Sienna’s touch didn’t calm me anymore. Her perfume, once soothing, now suffocated me. When she spoke, I heard everything except the truth.

“George, you’ve been distracted again,” she said one evening, her tone clipped but soft enough to disguise irritation. She sat by the balcony, swirling her wine glass under the moonlight. “You barely eat. You barely sleep. If this is about that pathetic ball, then I must say, it’s time to let go.”

Her words stabbed through my patience. I closed the documents I was pretending to read and exhaled heavily. “It’s not the ball, Sienna. It’s... the Council.”

She arched a brow, unconvinced. “The Council doesn’t make you restless at night.”

I turned toward her slowly, meeting her gaze. “You seem to know a lot about what keeps me awake.”

She smiled — sharp and practiced. “That’s what mates do, George. We study each other.”

I wanted to correct her, but I didn’t. Because if I did, she would see the truth in my eyes — that every time I closed them, I saw another face. One I shouldn’t be thinking of.

That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. The moonlight filtered through the curtains like a quiet reminder of the goddess I had defied.

I had mocked her bond.

Rejected her choice.

And yet, I felt her punishment burning in my chest.

I sat up abruptly, running a hand through my hair. The silence of the palace was maddening. I could hear the faint ticking of the golden clock by the wall and the distant howl of wolves in the far forest — a haunting symphony of loyalty, love, and fate.

“Your Majesty?” came a soft knock at my door.

It was Noah.

I allowed him in with a tired nod. He looked worried — the kind of worry that spoke without words.

“Tell me,” I said.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, “It’s about the rogues. We received word that a small group crossed into the southern borders last night. The Greyhound Pack engaged them.”

I stilled.

The Greyhound Pack.

Her pack.

“What’s the report?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me.

“One wounded. They drove the rogues back before dawn. Beta Andrew led the defense.”

I nodded. Relief flooded through me, though I didn’t know why. “Good. Keep me informed of their recovery. Send aid if they need it.”

Noah gave me a long, suspicious look before smirking faintly. “You’re suddenly interested in that pack, huh?”

I glared at him. “It’s the closest to our southern border, Noah. It’s politics, not personal.”

He chuckled under his breath. “If you say so, Your Majesty.”

He left, leaving me in silence again — only now, the silence had a heartbeat. A soft, steady rhythm that echoed a name I wasn’t supposed to remember.

Emma.

Emma’s POV

The smell of wet earth and pine filled my lungs as I tightened the bandage on my arm. The rogue fight last night had been brutal — quick, but brutal. I didn’t get hurt much, just a cut from a blade that grazed my skin when I tried to protect one of the younger wolves.

Andrew walked up to me, his expression stern as usual. “You shouldn’t have gone after that one, Emma. You could have been killed.”

I rolled my eyes. “And what would you have done if I wasn’t there? Let him tear into Jacob?”

He sighed, clearly losing patience. “You’re reckless.”

“I’m alive,” I countered, smirking. “That counts for something.”

Amy joined us, handing me a flask of water. “You two need to stop bickering before I lose my mind. The rogues are gone, and we all made it back. That’s what matters.”

Andrew muttered something under his breath, but I ignored him.

Deep down, I knew he was right. I’d been throwing myself into every dangerous mission since the ball, as if fighting something external would silence the chaos inside me. But it never did. No matter how hard I tried, every time I closed my eyes, I saw him — the Alpha King — walking away.

Amy placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Emma… maybe it’s time you stopped punishing yourself for what happened.”

“I’m not punishing myself,” I said defensively, though my voice cracked. “I’m just— I’m trying to move on.”

“By risking your life every week?” she asked softly.

I had no reply. She sighed and squeezed my shoulder before walking away, leaving me staring at the forest line. The wind brushed through my hair, and for a moment, I swore I felt something — a faint pulse in my chest, like a connection tugging at me from miles away.

I shook it off quickly.

It was impossible.

The King rejected me. The bond was gone.

Right?

Alpha King’s POV

Three nights later, I received the report I had been secretly waiting for.

The Greyhound Pack requested additional supplies and a royal inspection — the perfect excuse for me to go without raising suspicion.

Noah frowned when I told him. “You? Visiting a minor pack’s border? That’s not your job, George.”

“Consider it a show of loyalty,” I said curtly. “If the King doesn’t check on his people, who will?”

He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. But I’m coming with you. Someone has to keep you from making stupid decisions.”

I smirked faintly. “You mean emotional ones.”

He didn’t deny it.

The journey to Greyhound took half a day. The packhouse stood tall on a hill overlooking dense woods, smoke rising from repaired watchtowers. They had fought well. The scent of blood still lingered faintly in the air, but it mixed with the smell of resilience — the kind only warriors carried.

Alpha Luke greeted me with a deep bow, clearly startled by my unannounced visit. “Your Majesty! What an honor.”

I gave him a polite smile. “I came to commend your pack’s bravery. The reports of your defense reached the palace.”

He nodded, visibly proud. “Our warriors fought valiantly. Beta Andrew led them with great skill.”

At the mention of his name, I felt my chest tighten. “And your warriors? How are they healing?”

“Most are well. A few minor injuries… including my Beta’s sister, Emma Henderson.”

I froze for half a second, but quickly masked it with a nod. “Good. I’d like to see the training grounds. I want to meet the warriors who fought.”

Alpha Luke’s eyes widened slightly — no doubt confused as to why a King would care about wounded soldiers. But he obeyed without question and led me there.

The scent hit me first.

Soft, sweet… familiar.

When she turned around, I stopped breathing.

Emma stood in the middle of the field, sparring with another warrior. Her movements were sharp and disciplined, her brown hair tied up messily, streaks of dirt across her cheek. She looked fierce — nothing like the fragile girl I’d seen at the ball.

She didn’t notice me at first. But when she did, the training sword slipped from her hand.

The silence that followed was deafening. Every warrior around her froze, bowing low when they realized who stood at the edge of the field.

“Your Majesty,” she said, her voice steadier than I expected. She didn’t bow immediately — only after a moment, reluctantly, like she had to force herself.

I stepped forward. “You’ve healed well.”

Her jaw tightened. “Yes. Thanks to our healer.”

Her tone was polite but distant — the kind that carried a wall behind every word. And for the first time, I didn’t know what to say.

“You fought bravely,” I finally said, searching her face for a flicker of emotion. “I received reports of your courage.”

“I didn’t do it for recognition, Your Majesty,” she replied coldly.

The words hit harder than I thought they would. I could almost hear Noah’s silent laugh behind me.

“I didn’t say you did,” I murmured.

Her gaze flicked away. “If you’ll excuse me, I have training to resume.”

“Emma—” I began, but she was already walking away.

No one had ever dared to turn their back on me like that.

And yet, I couldn’t be angry.

I was… ashamed.

Emma’s POV

The moment I saw him standing there, my heart betrayed me. It stuttered, then raced uncontrollably. The King — my mate — the man who had walked away from me — was here, watching me train like I didn’t still dream of that night.

I wanted to scream.

To ask why.

To demand answers I knew he wouldn’t give.

Instead, I picked up my sword and walked away. The ache in my chest was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the fury burning beneath it.

Later that night, I sat alone by the lake, the moonlight glimmering over the water’s surface. My reflection stared back at me — tired, heartbroken, but stronger. I had survived his rejection once. I could survive his presence again.

“Emma,” a voice called softly behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Your Majesty,” I said bitterly. “You seem to enjoy finding me in my worst moments.”

He sighed and sat beside me without asking permission. “You’re not the only one haunted by that night.”

I turned sharply to him. “Haunted? You call rejecting someone in front of hundreds of people being haunted?”

He flinched slightly. “I made a mistake.”

I laughed — dry and humorless. “A mistake? You didn’t trip, Your Majesty. You made a choice. You chose *her.*”

He was quiet for a long moment before saying softly, “The bond hasn’t faded.”

I froze. My wolf stirred inside me at his words, her heartbeat quickening in rhythm with his.

“What do you mean?” I whispered.

He turned to me fully, eyes burning with something raw and desperate. “I feel you. Every night. Every time you’re hurt, I feel it. The bond is still there, Emma. I tried to break it… but I can’t.”

My throat tightened. Tears threatened to fall, but I refused to let them.

“You don’t get to say that,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “You don’t get to reject me, then come back when you realize the bond doesn’t die as easily as your conscience.”

“Emma—”

“No,” I interrupted, standing up. “You may be the King, but you don’t rule my heart.”

And with that, I walked away — not because I didn’t still love him, but because I finally loved myself enough not to beg for what should have been freely given.

As I disappeared into the woods, I didn’t see the look on his face — the look of a King who finally realized that power meant nothing when he had lost the one thing the goddess herself had chosen for him.