The silence that follows is suffocating and heavy, choking the very alt from my lungs.
For the first time, I wonder if my thirst for vengeance is nothing compared
have tried to break me,.. but he shattered her entire life if he was ly the hers. My uncle may have destroyed my father, may
one who stole Kali from her as a child. The way the Queen poured out her heart during her birthday celebration showed how Kall’s absence nearly killed her. Grief consumed her so completely that she could no longer fulfill her duties as Queen.
I drag in a breath, my chest tightening. Still, a part of me struggles to believe it.
“How…” My voice cracks, low and rough. “How is this possible? My uncle is a bastard, yes—but to break into the royal palace and kidnap the Princess? That doesn’t add up. Back then he wasn’t even a royal messenger. There’s no way he had access to the palace. Either there’s a mistake… or he wasn’t working alone.”
“Exactly,” she spits. “He didn’t do it alone. At that time, Malik was nothing but a puppet, serving another master before he clawed his way into becoming one himself.”
Her voice lowers. “Do you remember when your father died?”
I swallow hard, pulse spiking at her question.
“Malik thought he could exploit your father’s weakness, seize the title, and crown himself Alpha. But you-” her gaze cuts into me, unflinching, “you already had your wolf. You were strong enough to fight him off. You broke him. Crippled him. Made him Crawl.”
Shock tears through me. “Yes… but-” I shake my head, disbelief clawing at me. “How do you know my story in such detail?”
Her lips press into a thin line. “Because I had to. I contacted your mother during my investigation. She told me everything. Forgive me, but I had no choice. I needed to understand the boy who once stood against Malik… even as a child.”
I stare at her; the weight of her knowledge presses into me, unsettling.
She exhales, steadying herself. “After you defeated your uncle, he grew desperate. Humiliated, vengeful, hungry for power. He wanted your head for such shame, but the only way he could achieve that was with power equal to that of a king. He couldn’t gain it on his own, and he couldn’t approach the king directly for aid. That was when he met Elder Varkos.”
The name sends a chill crawling up my spine.
The Queen’s gaze drifts past me, as though she’s looking back through years of rot and betrayal. “Varkos was the High Priest then. Skin like cracked bark, eyes like cold stone. He stood in the royal court and declared my daughter–my Maya–a curse. He claimed that if she was not sacrificed before the next Red Moon, the kingdom would fall into ruin: plagues, famine, death.”
Her voice wavers, but only for a moment before it hardens into steel. “My husband, the King, stood against him. He swore that if any man so much as whispered about harming our daughter again, their heads would be in the dirt before sundown. Varkos knew then that his position as High Priest was in jeopardy. He needed proof–evidence to make his lies about my daughter’s so- called curse undeniable or his word would forever mean nothing.‘
Her fists clench, fury trembling through her. “That was when he turned to Malik. Desperate Malik. Broken Malik. Hungry Malik. Varkos used him–manipulated him. Promised him power strong enough to destroy you, Jack, in exchange for my daughter. He ordered him to steal Maya, along with Tom, her sworn protector, and deliver them to the witches‘ hut for sacrifice.”
My chest constricts. The image sears into my mind–tiny hands bound, frightened cries swallowed by the night.
Her voice sharpens, growing louder, anger bleeding through. “But Varkos lied. The sacrifice was never for the kingdom–it was for him. He wanted my daughter’s blood to strengthen himself, to cling to life as age withered him away. And Malik–pathetic, power–starved Malik–obeyed. He didn’t even search for Tom when the boy managed to somehow escape. Tom didn’t matter much, only Maya with royal blood.”
Her words shake now, but the fury in her eyes could burn down the palace walls.
“But the Moon Goddess intervened,” she whispers, her breath catching. “She sent an angel, a woman who became Maya’s
1/3
adoptive mother. That is how my daughter was saved–and how Varkos’s ritual failed.”
‘How do you know all of this? In such detail?”
The Queen exhales slowly, lowering herself back into her chair, as though the weight of it all is crushing her. Disgust twists her
features.
“Because he told me,” she spits. “Elder Varkos himself. He’s dying, rotting in his own decay. He came to me secretly last night, begging for a deal. He confessed everything–how he used Malik, How he needed royal blood to survive then and now. He wanted a drop of mine this time. Just one drop, to keep living.”
