Midnight draped the kingdom in silence. The forest whispered under the breath of the wind, its shadows alive with secrets. A young girl in a hooded cloak moved swiftly through the darkness, her small feet barely making a sound on the damp earth.
For the first time in her life, Princess Claire had left the palace without telling anyone.
"Mother and Father will understand," she told herself, though her heartbeat disagreed. It had only been twenty-four hours since her mother had revealed the truth — a truth that had shattered every illusion of normalcy.
She was not just a princess.
She was a witch. And a werewolf.
A hybrid.
---
"Mama!"
A much younger Claire once ran into her mother's embrace, laughter spilling from her lips. Queen Celina smiled softly, cradling her daughter like she was made of starlight.
"How are you doing, my little moon?" she asked.
"I'm fine, Mama! Today, Lily was helping with my hair when my eyes turned gold!"
Celina froze. "Your eyes… turned gold?"
Claire nodded proudly. "Yes! But only for a second. Should I tell Papa?"
Her mother's smile faltered. "No, dear. Let me speak with him. Why don't you go play with your sisters for now?"
Claire hesitated. "Mama… am I a witch?"
Celina's eyes darkened. "Who told you that?"
"Lily said witches have eyes that glow — and she once saw a witch with golden eyes."
The queen forced a smile, stroking her daughter's hair. "Don't worry about such things, my love. Go play. We'll talk later."
As Claire ran off, her laughter fading down the marble corridor, Celina's smile died.
Her hands trembled.
A girl with golden eyes — one who had brought ruin to her bloodline — haunted her memory.
Her sister.
The one who had killed their parents.
And now her daughter bore that same cursed gleam.
Celina found her husband in the royal study, pacing beneath candlelight.
"Remy," she said, her voice breaking. "Our daughter… her eyes turned gold."
The king turned sharply. "Gold? Celina, isn't that—"
"Yes." Her voice was a whisper. "The same as my sister's."
Tears welled in her eyes. "I thought Claire was only a werewolf. She bears the mark… but what if she's something else? What if she's like her?"
Remy stepped closer, brushing away her tears with steady hands. "Celina," he said softly, "even if she has that power, she is still our daughter. She carries your heart — not your sister's madness."
He smiled faintly. "Perhaps the gods gave us a hybrid for a reason. Maybe she was meant to protect what your sister tried to destroy."
Celina rested her head against his shoulder, the fear in her heart softening. "I hope you're right."
--
Later that night, they found Claire chasing fireflies in the garden. The moment she saw her father, she ran straight into his arms.
Remy lifted her with a laugh. "Always running to your papa, little moon. Will you run to your husband's arms the same way one day?"
Claire giggled. "No! I love Papa the most!"
He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Then Papa's the luckiest man alive."
Celina watched them, her worry easing into warmth. The shadows of the forest still whispered, but for now, under the glow of the moon, the royal family stood wrapped in light — unaware of the storm destiny was weaving around them.