- The Ghost Queen
Damon’s POV
The forest reeked of deception.
“Damon, the warriors tracked multiple rogue scents across the woods,” Sailas burst in, his usual smirk replaced by grim urgency.
I was moving before he finished speaking.
“Seal the packhouse,” I barked over my shoulder. The order wasn’t just protocol- it was desperation.
Keep her safe. Keep my mate safe.
Aurelia materialized from the shadows as we crashed through the undergrowth. “Your Highness!”
“Report.” The word came out as a growl.
“At least fifty signatures. All werewolves. Scattered toward the southwest.” she said.
We hunted for hours. Followed scent trails of rotten eggs that doubled back on themselves. Found nothing. Nothing at all!
A ghost chase.
Ryan’s snarl vibrated through my skull. ‘We need to go back. To Ara!
The realization hit like a blade to the gut.
‘Yeah, I hear you. I am having the same thoughts,‘ I replied in my mind.
That it was just a diversion. Something else was at play. I was already furthest from the packhouse. Even with my lycan speed, it would take at least fifteen minutes to be there.
I wheeled around. “We’ve been played. I’m returning back.”
Sailas nodded sharply. “I am having the same thought. You go back but I’ll keep searching.”
The run back was agony. Every second stretched into eternity. Then I smelt it
Wolfsbane in the air!
The acrid scent burned my nostrils before I saw the fallen wolves, the royal lycans warriors, crumpled like puppets with cut strings. The air shimmered with poison, enough to drop a full–blooded royal.
The amount in the air was too much for any normal werewolf or even lycan to handle. It could even kill me if !
stayed here longer.
There must be another lycan at play. Cassian, is he?
Only my brother would dare.
Ryan’s warning came a second before the scent did. Go to the east. Now.
I ran like the hounds of hell were at my heels, following the trail of lavender and honey.
And then my eyes finally saw her.
Ara stood swaying in the moonlight, her skin translucent as parchment, her emerald eyes glassy with pain.
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26 The Ghost Queen
The sight punched the air from my lungs.
What have I done?
I should have never put her in that dungeon. Regret washed over my other senses for a good minute before my eyes fell on him.
The half–breed.
His filthy hands on my mate.
“Running again, Ara?” The words tore from me, drenched in venom. “With your f*****g boytoy?”
Ryan’s howl of betrayal shook my bones. My aura exploded outward, cracking the nearest tree trunks.
The half–breed turned, just as the wind screamed.
Just as I was about to lunge at the half breed, I felt the presence of another lycan. My heart dropped. Was it Cassian?
‘Damon… her scent… that is…‘ Ryan mumbled.
The air became thick as she stormed into the scene. The world stopped breathing when she appeared.
One moment, I was staring at Ara, my fragile, defiant mate cradled in that half–breed’s arms, and the next, the night itself ripped apart.
Wind howled like a living thing, tearing leaves from branches as a figure materialized from the darkness. Not just appeared–unfolded, as if reality itself bent to make space for her. Moonlight crystallized around her form, catching on the silver threads woven through her midnight hair, illuminating the familiar slope of her cheekbones, the regal arch of her neck.
Time turned to syrup.
Her cloak billowed like liquid shadow as she moved, the edges stitched with constellations I’d traced as a child in the palace observatory. The scent hit me first- roses and winter frost, the exact perfume that used to linger in my nursery after bedtime stories.
Then she turned.
And I saw her eyes.
Grey like storm clouds. Grey like the portrait hanging in the throne room that no one dared to look at.
‘Damon… that scent… it’s…’ Ryan even mumbled.
And only one word tore from my lips.
“Mother!”
But the whisper died in my throat. The woman whom I thought was dead because of me for over two decades, were standing right there, before my eyes.
For the normal eyes, she would have appeared just as a gusty wind but with my lycan senses I could see her every move.
Her lips parted as our eyes met for a fraction of a second.
Was it a whisper? A curse? An apology?
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2/5
26: The Ghost Opeen
I would never know.
Because then she moved.
40 Prints
Not with lycan speed, but something older, something that made the air scream in protest. One hand closed around Ara’s wrist, the other around the half–breed’s shoulder. The world bent.
And just like that, they were gone. Disappeared into the thin air.
I could still feel her gaze on me, her scent lingered in the air.
For twenty–eight years, I had carried the weight of her death like a brand seared into my soul. The servants‘ whispers “The queen never recovered from his birth“– the portrait gallery where her painted eyes followed
me with silent accusation, the way my father could never look at me without flinching.
I had killed her.
This truth had shaped every breath, every battle, every moment of my existence.
And now-
She stood before me.
Not a ghost. Not a memory.
Alive.
The wind died in my throat. My knees struck the earth with a force that should have shattered bone, but I felt nothing. Nothing except the howling void inside my chest where a child’s grief had lived for three decades.
Her face- gods, her face- was exactly as I saw in the portraits. Time had barely touched her, save for the
silver streaks woven through her night–dark hair.
And she left!
Again!
Somewhere, Ryan was howling.
Somewhere, my heart was breaking.
And somewhere in the dark, my mother, the missing queen, had just stolen my mate!
The world had stopped making sense.
I stood frozen in the clearing, my boots rooted to the earth where she had stood mere moments ago. The
scent of roses still clung to the air–her scent, my mother’s scent–after twenty–eight years of believing her
dead.
“Damon!”
Sailas’s hand on my shoulder jolted me back to reality. My half–brother’s face was uncharacteristically
serious, his golden eyes scanning the empty clearing.
“Don’t tell me she ran away again,” he muttered.
My voice came out hollow. “No. This time she was taken.”
“Taken? By who?” Aurelia’s question sliced through the morning air.
I met her gaze, the truth like ash on my tongue. “By my mother.”
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26 The Ghost Queen
18 Points
Aurelia gasped, but Sailas- my ever–smirking, never–serious half–brother- went utterly still. His grip on my
shoulder tightened almost painfully.
‘Damon.’ Ryan’s growl was frantic in my mind. ‘Something’s wrong with Ara. The bond… it’s fading.’
Ice flooded my veins.
‘Where do I start? She just vanished!‘ my voice trembled.
‘Think Damon… Think before we lose her, Ryan growled.
I took a deep breath. First time Ara disappeared was in the woods. Then those rogues! They all couldn’t just
pull a stunt like that unless there was a way out.
‘Those rogues! The place where they disappeared. That’s where we need to go,’ I said in my head.
‘Let’s hurry up, Ryan replied.
“Aurelia,” I snapped, the command cracking like a whip. “Where exactly did those rogue scents disappear?”
“By the riverbank, Your Highness.” She replied.
“Show me.”
We moved like shadows through the trees, the rising sun painting the forest in hues of gold. My pulse
hammered- not just for Ara, but for the impossible truth standing before me minutes ago.
My eyes scanned the area quickly to find anything unusual. And finally they landed on a stone hidden under
ivy. A stone that didn’t belong there!
dropped to my knees, my claws shredding through the vines. The morning light caught the edge of something carved into the rock–a crescent moon, its curves worn smooth by time.
“Interesting,” Sailas murmured, crouching beside me. For once, there was no teasing in his voice.
“What’s that?” Aurelia asked with curious eyes.
“A marker,” he said, running his fingers over the symbol. “Hidden this well? It’s a key.”
To where Ara kept vanishing.
To where those rogues went!
My palm pressed against the cold stone, and the earth groaned.
The ground beneath the riverbank split, revealing a yawning tunnel descending into darkness. The scent that wafted up was unmistakable–damp earth, wolfsbane, and beneath it all…
Lavender and honey.
Ara.
Sailas let out a low whistle. “Well. That explains a lot.”
For a heartbeat, none of us spoke. The morning birdsong seemed obscenely cheerful against the gravity of
that black maw.
“Listen, Sailas,” I said, my voice low. “I’m going down there alone.”
“I don’t think that would be wise, your highness. We will go prepared,” Aurelia stepped forward.
III
4/5
- The Ghost Queen
“No.” The word left no room for argument. “We don’t know what’s down there. Could be a trap. Could be an army. I won’t drag the entire unit into my family’s mess.”
“I can’t let you go alone. I am coming one way or another, brother,” Sallas sounded determined.
“No, this could be suicidal specially if…” I trailed off.
“Especially because the late luna might be there. I am a royal blood too, Brother. I doubt I could be taken down that easily,” Sailas smiled, his confidence returning.
“Fine, just don’t keep out of my way,” I smiled back.
“What about me?” Aurelia said.
“You stay back. Hold the perimeter. If we’re not back by nightfall, bring the warriors.” I ordered him..
Sailas arched his eye brow. “We’re actually doing this? Storming the long–lost queen’s secret lair?”
“She has my mate,” I said simply.
For once, Sailas didn’t joke. He just nodded, rolling up his sleeves. “Then let’s go meet the woman who’s been giving our scouts nightmares for years.”
As we stood at the mouth of the tunnel, the morning sun warm on our backs, Sailas hesitated.
“Alright, let’s go back to the pack house. We need a plan, Damon, if we are gonna barge into your mother’s layer. I heard she was a pretty strong warrior,” Sailas said.
“Right,” 1 replied.
We had to hurry, but charging in blindly would do no good either.
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