Chapter 6: The Price of Peace

  Evanora’s POV

  I collapsed onto the sun-warmed rock, wiping my forehead dramatically. “Gardening is draining the life out of me—literally,” I muttered. The irony wasn’t lost on me: a vampire, half-dead from pulling weeds, despite the shade.

  Zagan chuckled under his breath, but our frustration was mutual. Our ‘royal treatment’ in the Eastgod Pack amounted to shoveling animal waste, watering mutant plants, and now, trimming desert hedges.

  “Who knew being undead would make me a supernatural groundskeeper?” I added.

  Zagan opened his mouth, likely to whisper my real name, but I cut in quickly. “Zagan—discretion, please. Faith will do.”

  After a pause to ensure we were alone, he nodded. “As you wish.” Ever the gentleman.

  “Rest, Faith,” he offered. “I’ll handle the rest.”

  I ignored my aching limbs and decided to use the moment. “Master,” I said deliberately, “what’s the nature of this Royal engagement?”

  He looked at me—steady, careful. Kaden’s warning still lingered in both our minds. Eyes are always watching.

  After a beat, he answered, “Following the Crown Princess’s… execution, the Vampire Elders initiated a peace alliance. Lycan Prince Armon is to marry the Vampire Kingdom’s next Crown Princess.”

  My throat tightened. “Isn’t this forced? How can Prince Armon agree to marry his fiancée’s half-sister?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Zagan’s voice was calm but final. “The Lycan Prince and the Princess both accepted. Of their own free will. No coercion—not even from the Royals.”

  His words cut deeper than he knew.

  Before I could respond, a familiar voice interrupted behind us.

  “Well, if it isn’t the royal gardeners,” the she-wolf guard grinned. Same guard who once poked my cheek in a prison cell.

  Zagan flashed his dazzling smile—traitor. “We’re taking a break before feeding duty. Crocodiles await.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She laughed. “Don’t slack off too long.”

  Once she left, I bit back more questions. Wolves had good ears, and I wasn’t about to start another round of werewolf eavesdropping.

  Instead, we moved on to animal duty—Hunter dogs, torture hounds, even a pair of sulking crocodiles. I was oddly in my element. I once ran my own dungeon zoo, after all.

  Later, I returned to my blessedly solitary quarters (a perk of being feared). Zagan, poor soul, had a roommate and all the juicy gossip that came with him.

  After a quick rinse and a fresh dress, I curled into bed. For a moment, I savored the silence.

  Then the ache returned.

  Armon.

  And the engagement.

  ---

  ? Flashback ?

  The first time I heard his name, I was barely seven. Sitting cross-legged in the royal chamber, sipping blood from a gold cup while Veronica gently stroked my hair.

  My father’s voice had been sharp, suspicious. “How can I trust the Lycans? How can I ensure they won’t bring war again?”

  His advisor, Norman, replied smoothly. “They’ve lost too much. They’re proposing peace. A marriage between your daughter, Evanora, and the Lycan King’s firstborn.”

  My father frowned. “My daughter… married to a Lycan?”

  Norman smiled. “Yes, Your Majesty. The boy will be raised here. Under our protection.”

  My step mother the queen Veronica, ever composed, offered her suggestion. “Invite the Lycan child. Let the two grow together. If they form a bond, the marriage will come naturally. And with him here… his kingdom won’t dare wage war.”

  My father hesitated. Then finally nodded.

  He turned to me, kissed my forehead. “We’ll protect you always.”

  “Would you like more blood, dear?” Veronica asked sweetly. “Yes, please,” I replied.

  ---

  ? A Memory in Motion ?

  The Lycan royal family arrived weeks later.

  My father, Veronica, my step sister baby Valentina, and I stood at the gates to greet them. The Lycan King was stately; his Queen warm.

  Then I saw him—a boy of seven, clinging to his mother’s hand, white-blond hair perfectly combed. His wide eyes scanned everything nervously.

  “Armon,” his mother soothed, “you’ll be safe here. I’ll visit often.”

  “Will Victor stay with me?” he asked.

  “Yes. He’s preparing your new room.”

  Armon’s eyes flicked to me. Our eyes met.

  He smiled.

  I smiled back.

  That was the beginning.

  ---

  And now? He’s marrying someone else.

  My half-sister. Valentina.

  The court erased my name from history.

  And the man who once smiled at me like I was his whole world now stood beside her.

  Willingly.

  No chains. No pressure.

  Just… choice.

  I turned onto my side, hear

  t thudding once more in that familiar replaced rhythm.

  The price of peace wasn’t just a throne.

  It was me.

  ---