CHAPTER FOUR

The Burdened King

Kael's POV

I woke with a start, my chest heaving as fear gripped me. My heart hammered in my ears, the dream still clinging to me like a shadow I couldn’t shake. For the second time tonight, I’d seen her—a woman standing in a forest bathed in shadow, her anguished sobs tearing through the silence. She had pleaded for my help, her haunting gaze locking with mine.

Her sorrow felt too real, too raw. Who was she? Why did her pain pull at something deep inside me, something primal and unexplainable?

I threw off the duvet and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, crossing the room to the bar. I poured a glass of wine and stared at it, the liquid swirling under the dim light. My hand drifted to my chest as though to steady the ache that wasn’t my own but hers.

“Oh, Moon Goddess,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “What am I missing?”

A sharp knock shattered the stillness.

“Your Royal Highness,” came a guard’s voice. “The Lycan King requests your presence.”

My stomach dropped. My father had been unwell for months. If he was summoning me at this hour, it could only mean something serious.

I pulled on a shirt hastily and opened the door, finding the guards outside, their expressions grim. Anxiety pressed down on me as I strode down the hallway, my steps echoing in the silence.

“What’s happened to my father?” I demanded, my voice sharp, though my chest tightened with dread.

The guard hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s... not himself, Your Highness.”

I quickened my pace, my pulse pounding in my ears. The scent of potent herbs filled the air as I entered his chambers. The head physician met my gaze and shook his head before slipping out, leaving me alone with my father.

I froze. The sight of him—pale, frail, each breath a struggle—robbed me of speech.

“Father,” I murmured, dropping to my knees at his bedside. I took his hand, its once-strong grip now weak and fragile, and pressed a kiss to it.

“Kael... my son,” he rasped, his voice faint but steady. His dim eyes met mine, and I could see the weight of his years etched into his face.

“I’m here, Father,” I said, though the lump in my throat made the words barely audible.

“I believe… my time is up,” he whispered.

“No,” I said, shaking my head as if I could deny reality itself.

“You must lead the pack now,” he continued, his tone weak but resolute. “Forget the past… with the werewolves. The feud must end. Go to the gala tonight and find your mate.”

My chest tightened at his words. “I will, Father,” I promised, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “Just stay with me.”

A faint smile touched his lips before his eyes dimmed. With one last shallow breath, his chest stilled.

“Father… no,” I choked, my voice breaking as grief surged through me. I clung to him, tears falling freely.

Outside the chamber, I heard the guards drop to their knees. Their voices rose in unison, quiet and reverent. “Your Majesty.”

I straightened slowly, the weight of those words crushing me. There was no time to grieve, no time to falter. I took it upon myself to arrange the burial rites, ensuring my father was laid to rest with the honor he deserved.

Yet, his final words haunted me. Forget the past with the werewolves? Could I truly let go of the hatred that had fueled me for so long, the hatred for the creatures who had slaughtered my brother? My hands curled into fists at the memory.

And then there was the matter of my mate. I was already engaged to Lunara—beautiful, loyal Lunara. Why had my father urged me to find someone else?

The questions swirled endlessly in my mind, and with them came her face. The woman from my dreams. Her image burned brighter than before, pulling me toward something I couldn’t yet understand.

I was lost in thought when Lunara’s voice broke through, sweet and familiar. “Kael,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

I turned to face her, her beauty a stark contrast to the storm raging within me.

“Shouldn’t we get married soon?” she asked, her tone gentle but insistent. “The pack needs a queen.”

“I’m not ready,” I replied firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument. “The kingdom comes first. Once I’ve stabilized it, we’ll marry.”

Her gaze softened, though I caught the flicker of hurt in her eyes. “I’ll always be here for you,” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips.

The moment our lips met, her face surged into my mind—the woman from my dreams. Her presence was so vivid, so tangible, that it sent a shiver through me. I pulled back abruptly, my heart racing, my skin clammy.

“Are you all right?” Lunara asked, concern etched across her face as she reached for me.

“Yes… yes, I’m fine,” I said quickly, forcing myself to sit on the couch.

She lingered for a moment, her worry evident, before leaving me to rest.

But I knew it wasn’t rest I needed—it was answers. She unraveled me in ways I couldn’t explain, and even my wolf was restless, snapping at me with frustration.

That night, she came to me again. This time, she wasn’t weeping. Her eyes were cold and lifeless, yet they gleamed with power. She stood in the shadowed forest, uprooting trees with the wave of her hand, commanding the very elements to her will.

I shot upright in bed, my chest heaving, my mind racing. Who is she? Have I met her before? Or… have I lived this life already?

Frustration boiled over as I paced the chambers, her image etched into my mind. I could see her so clearly, as if she were standing in front of me. Growling, I sat at my desk and grabbed a sketchbook, my hand moving furiously as I captured every detail of her face.

When I leaned back, the image stared back at me—haunting, vivid, alive.

At dawn, I summoned Collins.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing slightly as he entered.

I held up the sketch, my voice sharp with urgency. “Find this woman,” I commanded, shoving it into his hands. “Leave no stone unturned.”

Collins nodded, his expression grave. “As you wish, Your Majesty. I’ll get answers.”

As he left the room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change—and she was at the center of it all.